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Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 01

By: Jeremydcp



PLEASE NOTE: The following story is a sequel to "Island Fever", "Island Fever 2: Eternity" and "Island Fever 3: Matrimony". In order to fully understand this story and the unique situation that its cast of characters find themselves in, it is paramount that you are very familiar with the previous three stories and their respective plot lines. In other words, if you are not familiar with this particular universe, please do not attempt to even bother reading this.

All three prior stories can be found on this website.

I had no intention of writing another sequel, but chose to do so due to reader requests and demands. I hope you enjoy!

*****

Chapter 1: Utopia

- Monday, May 18, 2015 -

- Sandvika, Norway -

"Oh God, Krissy, that feels so good."

"I could do this all day, you know."

"I'd definitely have no complaints if you did."

She giggled. "I'm sure you wouldn't."

For the past hour, Kristanna had been perched on the floor in front of me as I relaxed in my favorite lounge chair, her blonde head mostly buried in my naked lap. My precious, most irreplaceable wife, Kristanna held the base of my hard, throbbing erection with her right hand, and leisurely sucked and lashed away at the length of it with her lips and tongue. The little, wet sounds that Kristanna made with her mouth as she orally serviced and pleased me were music to my ears.

Kristanna was being so incredibly soft and tender with her oral technique, though, and obviously did not want me to cum any time soon. Again, I was not about to complain. She was so into the glorious, wonderful act of performing fellatio on me. At the same time, we spoke about many, various topics concerning our group marriage, and those who shared in it.

"You keep that up, you're going to get lock jaw."

Kristanna glanced over at Pamela, who had been seated on the floor directly beside her for the past hour as well, and made a face at her. "Oh, hush Pammy. You'll get your turn with Jeremy here again soon enough. Such a greedy girl!"

Pamela sneered and crinkled her nose at Kristanna, but then giggled once she made eye contact with me. I reached out with my right hand and cupped the side of Pamela's face, silently telling her how much I loved her, and how incredibly special and unique of a human being she was to me.

Indeed, this was the high life. I had been relaxing in my office here inside our mansion, with Kristanna and Pamela either kneeling or flat-out sitting upon the floor in front of me, each of them trading my cock back-and-forth between their mouths at random points as if it were a party favor. Then again, I told myself, it was a party favor to them.

"Is Trish feeling any better?" Pamela wondered.

"I think so," Kristanna purred, her head slowly rising and falling over my pulsing cock. "She was pretty down and out of it yesterday, but seems to be doing much better today. Must have been a case of the 24 hour flu?"

"Yeah..." Pamela frowned, now focusing her attention upon Kristanna, trailing a delicate hand over and across her neck and shoulders. She watched Kristanna continue to pay homage to my cock for several seconds, and then sighed contently.

"Do you want him back in your mouth for awhile, baby?"

"Actually, I want you to keep going," Pamela answered. "I really enjoy watching you and Jeremy together, Krissy. You and him are my two favorite people in the world, you know."

Kristanna glanced Pamela's way for a brief moment, then giggled in a nonchalant manner and shrugged her shoulders. "Suit yourself," Kristanna simply said, before returning her attention to my shaft.

"Oh, Scarlett called earlier," Pamela then announced in a coy tone. "She said her and Lindsay decided to stay out longer than expected today, and they will be home later this afternoon. Maybe around five o'clock, or thereabouts. Scarlett said they were going to catch a movie together."

"What movie are they going to see?"

"I don't know," Pamela told her wife, before tilting her head and focusing on me. "Doesn't Amy have her six month prenatal visit at the doctor Wednesday, Jeremy? She has an appointment at the hospital, right?"

"Yes," I responded, aroused, and short of breath.

"How are our two little rug-rats doing?" Kristanna inquired, motioning toward the pair of portable baby cribs in the corner of the office.

"Kaden and Piper are still napping," Pamela answered after doing a quick check on the two infant children.

Kristanna snickered playfully. "I think it's time that Jeremy gets me pregnant again." Pamela giggled as well at those words, while I let out a deep, needful groan.

"I think you better get in line, honey," Pamela declared at Kristanna, the octaves in her voice rising substantially. "You know how bad Trish and Lindsay want to get pregnant. Amy is six months along in her own pregnancy, and is going to give birth to Danielle Grace sooner rather than later." Pamela reached out and massaged my upper leg. "My God, we are going to wear poor Jeremy out eventually."

"That's the idea," Kristanna chuckled, her hypnotic blue eyes simply sparkling as she glanced up at me. Those eyes were lovely, and her face flawless and immaculate, but the most intoxicating sight of all was her pretty, pink lips stretched thin, contoured and shaped into a large 'O' around the bulging width of my cock. That, and her ravenous nature.

Kristanna withdrew me from her mouth, and nuzzled her nose across the rigid underside of my shaft. The simple, subtle move sent absolute shock waves throughout my body and soul. Yet, she turned toward Pamela one more time.

"Maybe Jeremy can you get pregnant again?"

Pamela frowned, then shook her head with a serious look of momentary discomfort upon her face. "Oh, I don't know," she fretted. "I'm afraid all the issues that I went through once Piper was born last year would only come back to haunt me again if I had another child." She was referring, of course, to her massive struggle with Postpartum Depression. "I was really out of my mind - like a different person - for a good four or five weeks before the medicine started to kick in."

"Oh, none of us would let you drop down to that point again," Kristanna assured her. "We would never allow it to happen. But I understand your fear, and totally respect it." She then pointed toward Pamela's stomach and mused, "You just looked so adorable with that big baby bump, though!"

"I didn't have any problems while I was pregnant," Pamela reminded her. "It was the moment when Piper was actually born that my world flipped upside-down. I ... I was not prepared."

Kristanna again made eye contact with me, then extended her long, velvety tongue, and gingerly swiped away at my testicles. "Doctors say that every woman goes through some form or another of Postpartum Depression after they give birth, whether it is a miniscule or a major episode."

"You didn't."

"Oh, I did," Kristanna corrected her.

"When?" Pamela shrilled, not believing her.

"There were moments when I was scared and felt overwhelmed, and had doubts," the 25-year-old admitted. "As I said, every woman goes through it - even if they do not realize it at first. You can ask any doctor. Ask Scarlett; she's a nurse at the childbirth center." Kristanna took one of my testicles into her wondrous mouth and began to nibble upon it. "I just don't want you to look back 20 years from now, Pamela, and feel regret that you didn't have a second child when the chance was still there for you. You're 32, and of a good and healthy age to have one more child ... if not even two more."

"I know," Pamela mewed, distraught. "I'm still just scared that what happened last year would happen again."

"It's okay, baby," Kristanna soothed, even reaching out and rubbing Pamela's kneecap as she sat on the floor beside her. Kristanna could see that Pamela was a bit upset, but clearly had something in mind that may change that. "Come on, Pammy. Don't be sad. Why don't you suck on Jeremy's cock for awhile again? I would love to watch YOU do it."

"Well, sucking Jeremy's cock has always seemed to cheer me up," Pamela offered, her right hand having already replaced Kristanna's at the base of my shaft. Kristanna trailed her tongue over and across my sensitive, aching testicles one final time, then scooted to the side and allowed Pamela to move in, and have total access. "And my name is NOT Pammy!"

Kristanna was laughing now. "Do you remember when Jeremy and I went to Maryland, Pammy, and convinced you to come back to the island with us? Back in December 2013, right? You and Jeremy were totally in love together, but there was that special, unique quirk - that tick, maybe. You and him were so scared and apprehensive when it came to having sex with each other." Kristanna giggled once more. "You two were so awkward around each other that first week! It was so cute!"

"Jeremy had the quirk," Pamela defended herself. "Not me. He was too busy trying to be a perfect gentleman; trying to convince the jaded stripper - me - that he was interested in me as an actual human being. I had serious trust issues at the time; I'd been burned way too many times in the past."

"He went so far trying to convince you that his intentions were good and pure," Kristanna grinned, "that he almost became scared to look at you in any sort of a sexual or physical manner. Yet, down-deep, Jeremy wanted you so badly. And when you finally did have sex, Jeremy bumbled and stumbled over himself so much, not wanting to upset you!" She patted me on the side and ended, "Ahh ... that's my Jeremy."

"Look at us now," Pamela chirped at her. "18 months later, Jeremy and I cannot keep our hands off of each other!"

Pamela began to tease the very tip of my cock with her exquisitely soft lips and tongue. She cupped my testicles with her left hand, while rhythmically pumping and frigging the base of my shaft with her right. Pamela then went down on me several times in succession with her mouth, only to quickly pull out and splay angel kisses across its pulsating head. The whole time, of course, Pamela never wavered, looking at me with those big, chocolate brown eyes of hers.

Pamela removed her right hand from my cock, then simply swallowed it whole. Still refusing to break eye contact, Pamela's lips and nose were stuffed hard upon my pubic bone as she made little gagging and choking noises that sent my senses spiraling out of control. I could feel myself deep in her throat; let me tell you, it was utterly amazing.

Pamela gasped and breathed deeply 30 seconds later, finally releasing my shaft and pulling it out of her mouth. I tossed my head back in my lounge chair and growled like a raving madman. How much more of this sweet torture could I take before my body just spontaneously combusted?

"That was pretty hot," Kristanna commented, dabbing a single strand of pre-cum from Pamela's cheek with a finger, and licking it dry. She turned Pamela's face toward hers, and the two ladies shared a slow-moving, deep kiss. Their tongues danced together, sliding over their lips. Kristanna wrapped her slender arms around Pamela's shoulders, pulling her close, then opened her mouth and sucked on her tongue. When it was over, they pulled back slightly and lovingly gazed into each others' eyes, and even bumped noses repeatedly.

Kristanna took my cock into her own right hand yet again, then smiled up at me as she began to squeeze and frig away. Pamela, meanwhile, descended over its length once more, inhaling it up to Kristanna's hand. Kristanna quickly got the idea and removed her hand, allowing Pamela to have free reign. Pamela began to violently bob her head up-and-down over my erection, her wondrous, hungry mouth using a vacuum technique that took me to the very edge of madness.

"I've always loved watching you suck cock," Kristanna cooed, the smile on her face enormous, as she rose up to her knees and moved behind Pamela. She then reached around her, and massaged those full, overflowing breasts through the blouse that Pamela wore with both hands.

Kristanna watched her wife continue to perform her own brand of spirited magic on my cock, then shifted her focus and gazed at me with hot, smoldering eyes. Taking things one step further, Kristanna suddenly stood up, and leaned full across Pamela's shoulder in order to offer me a deep, soul-touching type of kiss. Pamela, her head still bobbing away with reckless abandon, reached up with her right hand and harshly slapped Kristanna on her sweet, denim-clad ass.

Unable to sustain myself any further, I simply let go, and my cock erupted like a volcano within the warm, luscious confines of Pamela's mouth. I involuntarily thrusted my hips upward in the process, wanting to lose myself in her throat. My heart was thumping in my chest wildly, and my entire body was alive and pulsing with erotic electricity. Pamela kept her lips sealed tight, however, and guzzled down what was truly a massive load without any issue whatsoever.

In the aftermath, Pamela pulled my cock from her mouth, and popped her lips at me. "Hmmmmm ... that hit the spot!"

As if on cue, Kristanna was immediately back on the floor beside Pamela, and kissing her. Kristanna, of course, was a devilish fiend when it came to the taste of my semen. The Norwegian valkyrie could obviously never have enough of it, and was not one bit shy about extracting whatever she possibly could of it from a cummed-in mouth, or flooded pussy.

My heart was still pumping wildly in the aftermath of a blowjob that lasted more than an hour, where these two goddesses had traded me back and forth between them at least eight or nine times each. I eventually began to settle down, though, and felt incredibly mellow as a result.

"You two girls, and the others ... are going to be the death of me one day," I finally managed to get out, wiping my brow with a forearm, and breathing deeply.

Being her usual, playful self, Kristanna giggled and looked up at me. There was a heavy dollop of sperm on her chin. "At least you'll go out with a smile!"

"That is true..." I quickly conceded.

"Are Rande and Kristof coming over for dinner tonight?" Pamela asked, referring to Kristanna's mother and father who, of course, lived on the opposite end of this massively large and sprawling, 300-acre farm, in their own private home.

"They will be here at eight o'clock," Kristanna told her.

"Have any idea what Amy has in mind for dinner?"

"Salmon and gravlax, with sides of fettuccine primavera, and Kjøttkaker med Brunsaus."

Pamela raised an eyebrow at her. "What's that?"

Kristanna giggled yet again. She loved to laugh. "That's the meatballs with bread crumbs, nutmeg, ginger, and all of the other tasty ingredients and spices that you love so much!"

"You could have just said meatballs, you know," I chided.

"But where's the fun in that?" Kristanna whined.

Pamela gave my deflated, limp shaft one final swipe with her tongue. "I love you, Jeremy," she swooned, those brown eyes glowing with absolute devotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, honey."

"And YOU!" Pamela exclaimed, again turning to look at Kristanna. "I love you too, silly girl!" They kissed again, but this time it slow and sensuous, and very languid. Now, my heart suddenly felt as if it was going to melt like hot butter.

Pamela then brought Kristanna to her and hugged her tenderly, saying, "I would do anything for you, Krissy. Just anything..."

"I love you," Kristanna responded in kind, again bumping noses with Pamela, "and I love everything about our life and family. I love you, I love Jeremy, I love my Devvy, Trish, Lindsay, Amy, Scarlett..." A single tear trickled down Kristanna's cheek as she purred, "Every day, I wake up and all of this feels like Heaven on Earth to me."

"And every day feels better and more happy than the one before it," Pamela added to the sincere thought.

Suddenly a bit emotional herself, Pamela again kissed Kristanna, but soon the two ladies were glancing up at me with watery eyes. Then, both of them slid upward and settled across my lap together, and proceeded to hug me in unison. I wrapped my arms around them as well, then closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I heard Pamela sniffle, as if she was experiencing tears of joy herself.

"You're wrong," I simply told them, after several seconds of otherwise silence. "This is better than Heaven."

----

Oh ... the past five months had been quite eventful for me. After nearly two years of living this dream of a life, however, at least I was getting used to the roller coaster ride now. Not a whole lot shocked or surprised me any more.

Five months ago, I was in the city of Cincinnati, Ohio, helping Trish and Lindsay prepare for their wedding that took place on December 23, 2014. Of course, our whole contingent was there to assist and revel in the ceremony as well - Kristanna, Devon, Pamela, Amy and Scarlett, and many other throngs of friends and family.

It was a memorable wedding, no doubt, and ranks as my personal favorite thus far (even higher than any of the six I had attended as the lucky groom-to-be). There is just something about remembering Trish and Lindsay up there on the podium, holding hands and exchanging their vows, that makes my insides glow like nothing else every time that I think about it. Those two ladies being together just seemed... right.

Five days later, our group was back home in Norway, and Lindsay married me in a small, private ceremony on the farm with just the girls, and Kristanna's parents in attendance. What I remember most about that particular wedding, aside from the blessed vows themselves, was that Lindsay's bridal gown was pure satin, and the color black. How often did a blushing bride-to-be choose to wear black?

"I'm going to wear white and be a good girl for Trish at my wedding with her," I recall Lindsay telling me earlier that month. "But at OUR wedding, Jeremy, I'm going to wear black, and be a BAD GIRL for you!"

"Bad girls get spanked," Kristanna then chimed in. Her words, as you may imagine, proved to be very prophetic...

The new year ushered in a new resolve, and I made good on my promise to Kristanna (my original and still, my most cherished wife of all) as I asked both Devon and Trish to marry me. The two ladies said yes through tears of joy, and I actually wed both of them at the same time on Friday, April 24, 2015, in a dual ceremony on our very secluded and private farm. What made the occasion even more spectacular was that Devon and Trish also married each other.

As was briefly mentioned earlier, Amy was not only six months pregnant, but she was also happier than I had ever seen her before. Amy was married (to not only me, but Kristanna, Pamela and Lindsay as well), and she felt, with a little daughter on the way, her life would soon be complete. After the long and troubling path she once traveled prior to meeting us, Amy had found peace as a loving wife, and looked forward to being the best mother she could possibly be. She was finally at ease with herself as a person. Amy was so relaxed now, and just ... so incredibly happy.

Pamela was experiencing a litany of problems over the Christmas holidays, and they stemmed from giving birth to our daughter, Piper. Pamela experienced a moderate bout of Postpartum Depression, and struggled with both her weight and self-image for several weeks after Piper was born.

As a group, we were able to convince Pamela to seek help from a psychiatrist, who prescribed medication that was able to stabilize and regulate her everyday emotions and mood. With the aid of Trish (who once worked as a physical fitness instructor), Pamela went on an exercise program and stuck to it, and the excess 25 or 30 pounds she had gained during her pregnancy were quickly burned away. Eventually, Pamela was taken off the medication for good, and she was back to normal.


Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 01



Today, Pamela looks better than ever. She is back down to her desired weight of 120 pounds, and does not have even a tiny sliver of excess baggage on her frame. Best of all, Pamela is happy and content with herself, and her image. Pamela believes that she looks better now than she did ten years ago. Obviously, Pamela feels better spiritually and emotionally with all of the happiness surrounding her, and is at a better spot in her life right now than ever before.

What could I possibly say about Kristanna that has not been said already? No one was a better match for me than her - bar none. Kristanna was the kindest and most caring woman I had ever met throughout all my life. She was also incredibly selfless - always putting others (mostly me) and their desires and needs, their wants, ahead of her own.

Everything Kristanna tried to accomplish, it seemed, was with the goal of making someone else's life better. She was always in a happy-go-lucky mood and was just bursting with joy, and had a positive, infectious spirit. Kristanna loved cracking jokes and could be quite the comedian; even better, she was not afraid to poke fun at herself.

What I found the most personal joy and satisfaction out of as it pertained to Kristanna, however, was watching the interaction between her and our son, 10-month-old Kaden. Kristanna was an excellent mother, and loved Kaden more than life itself. Kaden was the star than shined brightest in her eyes. She would do anything for him. Amazingly, Kristanna was even more personable and cheery whenever she was with Kaden; a crying fit or a grumpy mood from the little guy, no matter how long or extreme it was, never seemed to faze her. She was a remarkable woman, and I felt blessed and honored to call her my wife, and true soul-mate in life.

Speaking of people who just exude eternal sunshine and happiness, how could I leave Trish out of the conversation? While Kristanna was outgoing and overly gregarious, Trish was just flat-out nice. She was a total doll whose big heart was overflowing with an endless amount of love and generosity for others. Lindsay, of course, was the epicenter of Trish's universe. It had been that way since the very first time they met each other back in June 2013.

Trish kept busy here at home on the farm; she and Lindsay anointed themselves as being in charge of the horses in the stables, as well as the rest of the barnyard animals strewn about. When we were actually home in Norway - and not vacationing elsewhere in the world visiting various family members - Trish and Lindsay would take the horses out every single day and ride them amongst the fields and trails. They would also feed the chickens, goats and pigs on a daily basis (but steered clear of the cows for odd reason).

As was mentioned earlier, Trish and I became husband and wife back on April 24. On that same day, I also wed Devon.

My marriage to Devon was long overdue. Kristanna had been wanting me to marry Devon basically ever since I first met nearly two years ago. Kristanna had always thought that Devon and I were a good couple. Kristanna's stake in this went much deeper, though; I was her favorite (and only) man, quite obviously, and Devon was, by far, her favorite woman. It seemed only natural that Kristanna wanted us to hook up. It was definitely a match made in Heaven.

Devon had access to my net worth of well over two billion dollars in American currency and, like the rest of us, lived in a palatial estate in a glitzy, upscale Norwegian community. The world was at her fingertips; Devon could have anything her little heart desired. All she had to do was speak up, and it would be hers. Yet, Devon had recently opted to go back to school, and had aspirations of one day becoming a nurse, and working the long and grueling hours that went along with it.

Devon claimed that she wanted to stay active work-wise, and had a vested interest in the idea of helping and assisting others in their time of need. It made sense; Devon was a very unique and thoughtful person. She took this cue from Scarlett, of course, who had spent the past three years working as a registered nurse in the childbirth center at the university hospital in downtown Oslo.

Scarlett was truly one of us now. At the beginning, it took her awhile to adjust to our special lifestyle and the way we did things. Scarlett was overly intrigued by the idea of a group relationship and its limitless dynamics, but felt her fair share of trepidation early on with actually being part of one. It took some time and there were a few bumps along the way, but Scarlett - whom we initially met the day Kaden was born, as she was Kristanna's primary childbirth nurse - had now fully embraced our lifestyle and was truly in it for the long haul. That became official, for all intents and purposes, once she accepted my marriage proposal in front of her parents on Easter Sunday. Our wedding was set for March 16, 2016.

Scarlett was symmetrically gifted, blessed with enticing, luscious curves that could literally stop a freight train. But the 30-year-old's beauty went so much further than just being skin-deep. The simplest way for me to describe Scarlett would be to say that she is the type of woman any normal guy would love to bring home to meet his mother. Scarlett was extremely friendly and warm-hearted; but also reserved and soft-spoken, almost shy to a fault.

And, of course, Scarlett was a nurse. How could anyone find fault with a nurse? The only reason Scarlett still held onto that job, considering the financial resources I had available for her if she so desired? "I want to help people. I want to make a difference in the lives of others." Devon was starting to take notice, and wanted in, too.

All things considered, I suppose I wasn't doing too bad in life, huh? Six beautiful wives and an equally charming fiancee to share my time and life with? Indeed, I was a very lucky man. I still often wonder ... why.

----

I was, in a word, enthralled, as I later relaxed in a lawn chair at poolside underneath the glassed-in portion of the grounds out front by our luxurious estate on this beautiful, sunny day, my eyes transfixed on the amazing sight in front of me. Pamela was in the pool, closely holding and cradling our six month old daughter, Piper, to her. For the past two or so weeks, Pamela had been giving Piper swimming lessons for about 20 to 30 minutes per day. My heart was full with love for Pamela, of course, and I felt such bursting pride for Piper because she was, for lack of a better term, an angel. Put these two together for me; it was pure magic.

Piper had enjoyed being around water since she was born - bath-time was always one of her favorites. She had taken to the pool quickly in the prior few weeks, and was clearly having a lot of fun and getting a fair amount of exercise at the same time. At only six months old, needless to say, Piper was unable to swim and/or stay afloat in the water on her own. Pamela continually held her close, encouraging her to tread her arms about and kick her legs, while dunking her head underwater for no more than a second at a time at random intervals. Piper was definitely engaged and happy.

Kaden, my 10 month old son with Kristanna, had become swimming buddies with Piper in recent times as well. He was in a cranky mood today, though, thus Kristanna opted to skip his pool session for the day and hopefully try tomorrow. She was inside the mansion with him right now.

Pamela had a huge smile on her face as she stood near the shallow end of the 94-foot, free-form pool, while Piper was full of nothing but glee and delight. I just sat there and watched with admiration as Pamela continually laughed and spoke to Piper, flailing and bouncing her about. Piper tried to keep her little arms hooked around Pamela's neck and, at one point, balled up a fist and actually socked her mother in the chin with it. That made both Pamela and I chuckle.

Pamela had her issues in the past after Piper was born - none of which she was at fault for, by the way - yet she was an excellent mother, and thought the absolute world of Piper. I could not be any more proud of her for it, either. Nor could I be any more proud of Kristanna for the way she was raising Kaden. Life was just too good to be true!

"Oh!" Pamela gushed at Piper, motioning toward me with an extended finger. "Who is that? Who is that over there?" Piper looked my way and brought a hand to her mouth, grinning. "Is that your Daddy? Oh yes, it is ... he's your Daddy!"

"Hi sweetie," I waved at Piper, and she waved back.

"Tell Daddy that you are swimming!" Pamela swooned at her. "Tell Daddy that you're learning to swim!"

Piper let out a joyous, happy squeal as Lindsay's all-too familiar convertible, a 2014 Porsche 911 Carrera Cabriolet, pulled up alongside the exterior of the humongous glass dome that surrounded the entire pool area, allowing it to be temperature-controlled and suitable for year-round use. Obviously, Lindsay and Scarlett were home from their day out and about, which included a trip to the movie theater.

Piper could barely contain herself; she just knew who that car - a present I got for Lindsay on her 19th birthday - belonged to, as the two ladies climbed out of it. Lindsay would drop whatever she was doing, no matter what it was, whenever she had the opportunity to take care of and be in charge of Piper and/or Kaden. She absolutely loved children. There was no doubt in my mind that one day - and I sincerely hoped it would be very soon - Lindsay would be an outstanding mother herself. She wanted me to get her pregnant. On the flipside, Piper simply adored Lindsay to no end.

Lindsay saw Piper in the pool and tossed her shopping bags on the ground, then came rushing through the side entrance toward her with both arms extended and weaving them about as if she was an airplane, only to crash and burn, by leaping into the pool and landing just in front of the little infant. Yes, Lindsay jumped into the pool - wearing her blouse, denim jeans, sneakers and all - for the sole purpose of getting a hysterical, giggling fit out of Piper.

"Hey you!" Lindsay chirped at her, smiling. "How's my Piper? You're so pretty! So pretty! How's my PIE-per? Pretty, pretty PIE-per! Can I have a hug?"

Easily understanding that request, Piper put both arms out at her sides, and Lindsay proceeded to give her a very long, drawn-out hug. Pamela stood there and smiled at their little exchange, then clasped Lindsay's wrist and squeezed lovingly.

Scarlett was smiling herself because of Lindsay and Piper, but she decided to come straight to me with two full shopping bags on her arms and then planted a kiss upon my cheek. "Good afternoon, lover," she greeted me.

Everything from Scarlett's smoky, sultry voice to her excessive cleavage could drive any normal man insane with passion and desire. A stunning Nordic beauty who oftentimes fluctuated between being a blonde and red-head (blonde now), Scarlett was the embodiment of the term sex symbol.

But the 30-year-old was much more just a pretty face (and fantastic body). Scarlett was full of intelligence and wit, and took great pride in her job as a labor and delivery nurse in the childbirth center at the university hospital in Oslo. It was there, of course, where we first met Scarlett; she was Kristanna's primary nurse and caregiver when Kaden was born on July 29, 2014.

Less than 10 months later, Scarlett was now an integral part of our daily lives and truly a member of the family. She had been living with us since the early part of the fall.

"Did you enjoy your day out?" I asked Scarlett, while in the background, Lindsay continued to coo and cavort with Piper. Pamela had joined in; it was a truly touching sight.

"I can't believe you jumped into the pool with all of your clothes on!" Pamela exclaimed at her.

"We had fun," Scarlett grinned at me. "Did some shopping, went out to lunch, caught a movie."

"What movie did you go see?"

"The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout!" Lindsay suddenly broke out into lyrical song, distracting us, as she dabbed two fingers at Piper's belly button and inched them about. "Down came the rain, and washed the spider out!"

Finding the scene too adorable to pass up or try and ignore, Scarlett sighed and took a seat on my knee. She grasped my hand and brought it to her lips for a kiss, then sighed again as she watched Pamela and Lindsay continue to play with and make Piper giggle in baby glee.

----

Ever since I was old enough, one of my favorite hobbies has been working on automobiles. I am certainly no expert in the field, but I do know my way around basic vehicle repair and upgrades. I am not quite sure why, but I always found the overall process of first diagnosing a vehicle problem, then being able to fix it myself, to be very rewarding.

The following morning, I decided that it was time that I finally give Pamela's car, a glitzy 2016 Lotus Elise, the 3,000 mile tune-up that it required. I had been putting the tune-up off for a couple of weeks and, despite her protests, I insisted that Pamela allow me to do it myself instead of taking her car to the dealership and letting them handle it professionally. I was adamant in handling the job myself, yet I kept putting it off. Sounds like a typical man, huh?

Since things were getting to the point where it was now or never, I went to the local automobile parts store early in the morning on this Tuesday and purchased all of the necessary pieces and tools to finish the task. Once arriving home, I buckled down and got to work on Pamela's treasured vehicle. Oh, she would be most happy with me later on.

In the maintenance garage just east of the mansion, I was pretty focused and intent on the upgrade job after more than an hour of doing it. Only a few, select things could have possibly broken my concentration at this moment in time.

"Aren't you ever gonna finish with that Elise?" came a familiar female voice from outside the garage. Of course, that particular voice easily broke my concentration.

I stopped in the middle of what I was doing, and peered around the raised hood of the car. There she was - Lindsay. Her long blonde hair tied up in a pony-tail, only Lindsay's face and head were visible as she mischievously peeked around the side of the building. God, she was beautiful! Her wavy hair was as yellow as fresh dandelion blossoms and when she smiled, which was most of the time, diamonds of light literally danced and sparkled in her blue eyes.

"I should be finished soon," was my reply. "Why, honey?"

Lindsay rolled those eyes in response, then flashed me that winning smile of hers. "Oh, I don't know. It's just ... I am feeling kind of ... fluttery, this morning."

"Fluttery?" I inquired, my eyebrows raised.

She smiled once again and nodded her head for emphasis. "Yeah, fluttery. Happy. Carefree. Fluttery, you know?"

I held back a laugh and answered, "Not really."

Lindsay giggled as she stepped out from behind the corner of the building, and into the garage itself. At that exact moment in time, my heart literally skipped a beat and I dropped the heavy, steel wrench on the ground beside me.

"Do you like my uniform?" Those sweet-sounding words brought me out of my temporary state of shock. A moment later, once I blinked and re-focused upon her, my jaw hit the ground. Lindsay was dressed up as a cheerleader...

The 20-year-old wore a long-sleeved white blouse with a green sweater-vest buttoned down her front over top of it. The sweater-vest was a tight fit, naturally, and showed off Lindsay's taut, nubile curves in an enticing manner. The vest also bore a high school name and emblem; this was a hold-over from Lindsay's days as a varsity cheerleader while attending high school back in the United States.

The skirt she wore was green-and-white, with knife-like pleats all around it. The skirt was made of a very light cotton, so it flipped and bounced about easily as Lindsay stepped closer to me. It was also very short and low-cut.

Underneath the little skirt, a pair of green cheerleader panties could barely be seen. From my vantage point, they looked purely intoxicating. Lindsay's outfit was topped off with green socks which were rolled down to her little, slender ankles, and a pair of white athletic sneakers.

"My God, Lindsay..." I moaned, my eyes wide in both lust and desire. "One of these days, sweetheart ... you're going to drive me insane. Absolutely insane! I swear it..."

Lindsay giggled as she stepped even closer toward me. "I don't like it that you're here, working on Pamela's car!" She stopped walking, then shrugged her shoulders and even offered a sexy pout. "You're not in the mansion - working on me."

"Should I be ... working on you?" I croaked, a full, hard erection having already formed within my trousers.

Again, Lindsay shrugged her shoulders, but this time in a simple manner. It was accompanied by an innocent expression upon her enchanting face. "I wish you were." She then shot me a grin and said, "We could play Stuff the Cheerleader." As I moaned out loud at those words, Lindsay playfully winked at me and concluded, "I'll be waiting for you in bed..."

Lindsay turned, but then looked back over her shoulder and blew me a kiss. The naughty vixen giggled at my reaction, then turned her head and began walking away. Lindsay decided to put a punctuation mark on things as she overly strutted while walking, her sweet, luscious ass swaying back-and-forth, her little cheerleader skirt also freely swishing about.

After she disappeared around the corner of the building, it took me one second to weigh my options. I looked into the vehicle's engine and realized there was still a whole lot more work to do. What if Pamela had plans of going somewhere today? Her car would not even turn on right now. If I were to abandon the tune-up right here and now, there was a good possibility that Pamela would become very angry with me.

But on the other hand, though, the image of Lindsay and her cheerleading uniform flashed throughout my mind. Fix the vehicle, or have sex with Lindsay? Hmmmmm...

I may be lots of things, but one thing I definitely am not is a fool. I quickly closed the Elise's hood and decided that I would just have to finish the tune-up job at a later time. Hopefully, Pamela had plans of taking it easy around the mansion today. She was not going anywhere in this car.

I then hurried over to the large sink, scrubbed and rinsed myself of all the automobile grease and grime, and was ready for some action. YES! Time to stuff that cheerleader!

While en route to the master bedroom that I shared with Lindsay (as well as six other lovely ladies, mind you), the best way for me to describe my walk is to say that it was brisk, and fast. I could have ran the whole way - in fact, I felt like doing just that - but did not want to be short of breath for when I reunited with Lindsay.

Why, you may ask? I was going to do things to Lindsay. Many, many things. One cannot expect me to be gentle and loving when they show up and flat-out proposition me in a cheerleader uniform. Oh, Lindsay was going to get it. I definitely needed to reserve all of my strength for her.

----

"Oh yes," came a female's voice as I opened the door to our luxurious bedroom. "Look at that! Little green panties. Cheerleader panties! So precious..." My eyes wide, Trish looked up at me and smiled. "Oh, hi Jeremy! It took you a bit longer to get here than we thought it would."

I was momentarily stunned by the sight of Trish, who was seated upon the edge of the bed with an extremely sexy and provocative outfit of her own on. Dressed in a very naughty version of a Catholic schoolgirl uniform, Trish had Lindsay sprawled out across her lap, and was caressing her upturned ass with an even palm. "Is this a sweet ass, or what?" She then brought her hand down sharply upon her bride's backside, slapping it and causing Lindsay to yelp wildly in response.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 01



Trish opened her mouth and gasped, then offered a playful expression as she slowly peeled Lindsay's green panties from her hips. My young wife's body flinched with perhaps an equal mixture of apprehension and excitement as her adorable, little pussy came into full view.

"Oh ... will you look at that?" Trish asked, glancing at me as she ran a finger along Lindsay's puffy folds. "So this is what these naughty cheerleaders hide under their panties!"

"Dear God..." I moaned in response, realizing that Lindsay had set me up for a three-some involving her and Trish.

With a fresh-faced appeal and lush, cherry-red lips, Trish complimented her sizzling, little Catholic schoolgirl uniform by styling her long-flowing brown hair into a pair of bushy pig-tails. They were held in place by two pink ribbons. The 32-year-old also sported a pair of dark, thigh-high stockings on each firm, luscious leg, along with black patent shoes which neatly buckled into place.

Trish's schoolgirl skirt was more like a kilt. Its color black, the skirt was sinfully erotic and extremely low-cut. She also wore a black bra underneath an open, white blouse, which was knotted together at her midriff.

Trish could surely never be equaled aesthetically. Those voluptuous, athletic curves, that flawless, immaculate face, the stroke of a moist finger across a delicate chin...

"I think you need to be spanked!" Trish roared, turning her attention to Lindsay. "Cheerleaders shouldn't EVER wear panties! You should flaunt your little pussy for everyone to see!" She turned back toward me and asked, "What do you think, Jeremy? Should I spank her for hiding her pussy?"

"Oh yes..." I gasped in response. "GOD, YES!"

"You're hiding your pussy!" Lindsay protested, albeit with a playful grunt, as she reached for Trish's schoolgirl skirt and yanked at it. "Look, Jeremy," Lindsay said, trying to plead her case. "She's hiding her pussy, too!"

"You little tattle-tale!" Trish exclaimed, smacking her hand across Lindsay's ass. She groaned and yelped as Trish proceeded to land a series of stinging blows across her taut, yet tender backside, causing it to squirm and jiggle about.

"Spank me harder..." Lindsay soon begged, and then Trish got a hard, determined look upon her face.

My heart was now racing as Trish proceeded to pepper her lover's exquisite ass with swat after heavy swat, courtesy of her hand. Soon, Lindsay began to scream in response as her entire body rocked wildly about atop Trish's trusting lap. Her cheerleader uniform, with the lone exception of her little green panties, was still in place. Well, Lindsay's skirt was hiked well above her waist...

"Oh God..." she cried loudly, the skin upon her precious ass turning a bright shade of red before my very eyes. "We all know that you're the bad girl, Trish, and you're the one who needs to be spanked! Not MEEEEE!..."

"Take that, you tease!" Trish taunted, as she continued to slap her hand upon Lindsay's upturned ass. After several more blows, Trish finally relented as her breathing became rather labored. She had a glazed-over look in her eyes.

"I think Lindsay deserved that," Trish grinned, sighing deeply. "Don't you think she deserved that, Jeremy?" Trish paused for a moment, then looked down at Lindsay and cooed, "What about you, sweetheart? Did you deserve to be spanked?"

"Yes..." came her answer. "I ... I deserved it."

"Of course you deserved it," Trish said, grabbing Lindsay by the pony-tail and gently pulling her into a seated position. The 20-year-old shuffled around for a bit, and then found herself seated upon Trish's comfortable lap.

"Awww ... does that sweet, little ass hurt?" she squealed, before turning Lindsay's face toward hers and offering the princess a soft, gentle kiss. I groaned at the mere sight of their lips and tongues dueling together. Gentle, lustful moans could be heard as the two ladies continued kissing. Not only was Lindsay my wife, but so was Trish...

"You need to be spanked much more than I do, Trish!" Lindsay insisted with a pout, reaching back and massaging her aching backside with an open palm once their exchange of lips and tongues subsided. "You've always been the bad one!"

Trish clearly took exception to those words, giggling and shaking her head in tandem. She offered her young counterpart another open-handed swat and proclaimed at me, "Lindsay was the typical cheerleader while she was growing up and still in high school, Jeremy. She was a major, major tease. I mean, a really MAJOR tease. You have no idea, really. But like most cheerleaders, Lindsay never put out." Lindsay screeched as she received yet another heavy-handed blast...

"How often did you PUT OUT, baby, before meeting Jeremy and the rest of us on the island?" Trish asked her. "Never, right? You've always loved being a cheerleader. But did you ever do anything more than just tease?"

"No," Lindsay replied, which drew another unrelenting swat upon her ass. "I ... I was a virgin before the island, and meeting you and Jeremy. You know that, Trish."

Trish smirked at her. "I remember you once told me that you used to wear your cheerleader uniform to school every single chance you could. Your father was always against the idea, you told me, but your mother let you do it because she felt it was your way of acting out and seeming pretty." Trish giggled and added, "Little did your mom know that it was your own secret way of trying to act like a tease."

"IT WAS NOT!"

"How long were you a cheerleader again, Lindsay? How many years was it?"

"Six," she responded. "Two years in junior high, and then four in high school."

"You never had sex with anyone all those years," Trish surmised, "yet you were relentless when it came to teasing. Am I right, Lindsay? Come on, be honest with Jeremy here. You wouldn't want to lie to him now, would you? You LOVED to walk around school and have all those eyes on you."

"Yes," she answered. "I ... I loved wearing my uniform to school and having everyone look at me ... like Jeremy did, earlier when he was working on the car."

Trish giggled. "Probably had visions in your dirty, little mind of taking on the entire football team at once. Maybe offer yourself to them in reward for a big win?"

"Trish!" Lindsay gasped, before looking up at me and shaking her head quite vehemently. "That's not true! I was NOT that type of girl!" Lindsay seemed frantic and upset at her wife for a moment, but then her expression softened and she smiled warmly at me. "Trish and I figured you would have a lot more fun, Jeremy, being with us than working on Pamela's car."

Trish reached down and, with Lindsay still sprawled about her lap, lovingly hugged her with both arms. "Lindsay and I will definitely have more fun with you here, Jeremy."

Their verbal exchange about Lindsay and her so-called desires as a high school cheerleader was nothing more than a game of show for me. I was used to it by now; all of the ladies were usually looking to get a reaction out of me with things they said. Still, I always felt blessed and excited regardless. I would never grow tired of their efforts.

"Look, Trish," Lindsay grinned, motioning toward my jeans - or more specifically, the bulge protruding outward from them. "He's hard already! Why don't you suck him off for a bit?"

Trish's eyes drifted downward, and then the seductress licked her lips at the sight of the throbbing lump within my trousers. She made eye contact with me once again, then offered her most shy, innocent smile. "Is that for me?"

I reached down and rubbed the bulge with my left hand. My cock felt really uncomfortable within the unforgiving confines of my jeans. It needed to be set free...

"Yes baby ... this is for you," I answered, now squeezing the bulge with my left hand. "Why don't you come over here like a good, little schoolgirl, and show me just how much you have learned in that Cocksucking 101 class you're in?"

"That sounds incredibly naughty," Trish snickered. "A good, little schoolgirl? Cocksucking 101?" Lindsay rolled off of Trish's lap and settled onto the bed as the vivacious 32-year-old, who easily looked ten years younger, then sashayed her way over to me. Trish momentarily turned her back and glanced across her shoulder my way, lifting the hem of her ruffled skirt and giving me a clear view of her black panties underneath.

Trish then smoothed her skirt back down and into place, and giggled once more. "Lindsay said you absolutely love flashy, little skirts, and the panties that go with them." Trish turned toward me and shook her head. "I feel like a little tease! I feel even more exposed in this outfit than I do when I am totally naked - if you can believe that."

"You can take it off if you prefer..." I gulped. Please, I said to myself. I really did not want her to take it off. But I had to be an agreeable gentleman about it...

"Oh no, leave it on," Lindsay advised her. "Jeremy wants that uniform on you at all times, Trish. He doesn't want you to take a thing off - trust me. He is going to want to fuck you in your schoolgirl uniform, too. Am I right, Jeremy?"

"Yes honey, you are..." I nodded emphatically.

Smiling and full of happiness, Trish dutifully dropped to her knees. She leaned forward ever-so-slightly and placed both hands upon the carpeted floor. Her brown eyes glowing, Trish looked up at me with an expression full of adoration. Oh my, she was so incredibly gorgeous ... so perfect.

That modelesque face. The brown pig-tails with the pink ribbons. An incredibly wicked Catholic schoolgirl uniform which featured an open blouse and a teeny-tiny skirt. A very submissive posture to boot. Yes, it was official. Trish was the schoolgirl of my wildest dreams now.

"Well ... are you gonna take it out?" Trish giggled, motioning toward the aching lump in my jeans with her eyes.

I suddenly got a new idea in mind.

Wanting to luxuriate in the taste of her mouth before she went into one of her patented oral frenzies, I reached down with both hands and gently pulled Trish to her feet. She offered me a quizzical look for a moment, but that quickly faded away once I pressed my lips to hers for a kiss.

I curled both arms around Trish's ripe, perfect body, then slid my hands downward and sneaked them underneath the hemline of her little skirt. I squeezed and caressed her lush, tight ass through the fabric of those black panties. Trish hooked her right leg around my waist and just seemed to melt in my arms as our tongues dueled between our pressed mouths. This young woman was a true, Heaven-sent angel.

Meanwhile, Lindsay had a dreamy, far-reaching smile across her own face as she reclined on her side upon the bed and openly masturbated with a hand tucked between her lithe, slender thighs. I temporarily felt light-headed at the mere sight of my youngest wife watching Trish and I make out.

When Trish forged her hand between our bodies and found that aforementioned bulge in my trousers, I let out a hoarse moan. Soon, I reached upward and squeezed her breasts, which were large and jutting toward me, with both hands. I even slipped my hands into the open portion of her white blouse and then caressed their exquisite firmness through the black bra she was wearing.

By now, our kiss had reached truly epic proportions. Trish was trying to jam her tongue right down my throat. Of course, I was reciprocating her effort with an equal one of my very own. She also had her right hand stuffed deep inside of my trousers, and was busily frigging and pumping my erection like there was no tomorrow.

Once our kiss was broken, I took a step back and glared at Trish with pure lust in my eyes. "Get on your knees and suck my cock," I told her, my voice strict and firm. For an instant, I was stunned that I would use such a tone with Trish. I had just spoken to her like she was Amy or, to a lesser extent, Lindsay - like she was a submissive.

Nevertheless, Trish dutifully dropped to her knees and ripped my jeans and briefs downward in one quick motion. She grasped my swollen cock with both hands and immediately began stroking away at it. The saucy vixen somehow managed to get my cock even harder than it was before.

Eventually, however, Trish pursed her lips together and took the head of my shaft into her mouth. Those brown eyes of hers made contact with mine as she flicked her tongue over and across my cock within the confines of her mouth. She removed her left hand from my erection, but kept her right on its base and continued frigging as her head then began to bob back-and-forth in a heated, frenzied motion.

Although an extreme amount of erotic pleasure was swirling throughout my body as Trish serviced my cock upon her knees (where this pretty diva belonged, mind you), I still kept an eye on Lindsay. Her face now flushed, Lindsay was groaning as she continued to watch us and masturbate at the same time. I knew for a fact that Lindsay always seemed to get off on the sight of another woman giving me pleasure. Those feelings seemed to multiply, though, when that woman was Trish...

Trish snickered as I reached down with both hands and latched onto her girlish pig-tails. I extended them outward and treated them like handlebars as the sizzling enchantress continued forth with her oral assault. I felt so perverted!

When I let out a loud, animalistic moan, Trish must have sensed that I was very close to the edge of orgasmic release. With a sweet smile, she tightened her lips around my cock and offered me her most innocent expression. That was it...

"OHHHHH, GOD YES!" I roared out, as a heavy flow of thick sperm pulsed from my cock right into Trish's perfect mouth. Unable to swallow the full explosion at once, Trish whipped my shaft out of her mouth and aimed it at her face. She was rewarded it with a cum-shot right between the eyes.

Streamers of gooey sperm dangled from the corner of her mouth, but she quickly gathered them with her left hand while still stroking my cock with her right. She placed her left hand upon her mouth and wiped it, leaving a thick coating of semen there. It gave her the look of a nasty schoolgirl...

Trish roughly squeezed my cock with her hand, forcing the last drops of my release to ooze out from within its tip. With a far-away expression upon her face, Trish slid the head of my shaft across her cheek. The move left a thick blotch of sperm there, which was obviously what she wanted.

"Let me look at you," I groaned, latching onto Trish's shoulders and gently pulling her to her feet. I took a step back and again admired the sight of Trish in the Catholic schoolgirl uniform. It definitely had a naughty aura to it - her white blouse was completely unbuttoned and knotted at her bare midriff, displaying the black bra that she wore underneath. She also had black panties on beneath her skirt.

"Are you a naughty schoolgirl?" I teased her, grinning. "It's not all that often that schoolgirls wear black bras and panties underneath their uniform. Supposed to be white."

"Oh yeah ... I'm DEFINITELY a naughty schoolgirl," Trish giggled, nodding her head. "A VERY naughty schoolgirl."

"You even have cum all over your face and mouth..."

Trish laughed again. "My smile is brightest when there is cum on my face." She wiped some of the excess off with her fingertips, then sucked them dry. "Hmmmmm ... yummy!"

"Those black, thigh-high stockings you have on make you look even more naughty," I observed, simply role-playing with her as she did earlier with Lindsay. "You're a bad girl, Trish. A very bad girl." I smiled at her. "Do you know what happens to bad girls?"

"They get spanked?" Trish squealed.

I laughed at her impish tone of voice. "Normally, yes. But I want something more right now. Something better." I folded my arms, the look upon my face much more serious. "Take your panties off ... but leave your skirt on."

"He's going to give you a hard fucking!" Lindsay chirped.

"But I thought you wanted me to leave my pan..."

"TAKE your panties off," I demanded, my eyes piercing.

Trish nodded her head in a timid manner, then reached underneath her loose-fitting black skirt and let her panties fall harmlessly to the carpeted floor. She stepped out of the garment and kicked it elsewhere, then turned her focus squarely upon me. "What now, Jeremy?"

"Lay down on the bed and show me your pussy."

"Lay down next to me, Trish!" Lindsay suggested, even extending both arms outward toward her as an invitation.

The twinkle in Trish's eyes returned as she giggled and fell backward onto the comfortable mattress. On her back, the lovely brunette lifted the hem of her skirt and spread her succulent thighs far apart - giving me a classic, bird's eye view of what I wanted to see most. Lindsay quickly embraced Trish with both arms and began to greedily lick and slurp away whatever sperm was left upon her face with her tongue.

That little display of affection between them was all I needed to receive what best could be described as a hot, electric surge of energy upon my shaft. My cock sprang back to life and was fully erect in no time flat.

Lindsay still looked fantastic in that little uniform she had on. The white blouse with the green sweater-vest over it, along with a swishy, little green-and-white skirt which was now bunched up around her abdomen. Her green panties were long gone, but the matching socks and shoes were still upon her feet. Lindsay was the cheerleader of my dreams!

I began to wonder just how many uniforms and costumes Lindsay had in her arsenal. I lost track of how many times she had dressed up in various costumes and role-played for me in the past. Obviously, Lindsay was well aware of how much I enjoyed it, and she was very eager to please me. Fortunately, Trish finally decided to join the parade by dressing up just like Lindsay, and others such as Kristanna, Devon, Pamela and Amy had done for me in the past.

I growled in sheer, total arousal as I quickly mounted Trish in the missionary position, while hooking her legs over my shoulders in the process. Now twiddling her beautiful, shaven pussy with a pair of extended fingers, Trish moaned and glared up at me with a lustful expression of her own as Lindsay continued to serenade her face with kiss after kiss.

God, I said to myself. This seemed criminal - Trish had the aura of a high school girl with that uniform on! And Lindsay was no different, with her cheerleader outfit!

"Give it to me!" Trish literally begged, being bold. "Fuck my pussy with your cock! Fuck me! Fuck me NOW!"

I latched onto one of Trish's luscious breasts through her open blouse and bra with my left hand, then fisted my cock with my right and forged my way into her tight pussy. I growled at first, adjusting to the incredible feeling of spearing a pussy so small and tight. Trish, meanwhile, moaned in utter passion and stared up at me with wide eyes. She was enjoying this almost as much as I was...

"Fuck her, Jeremy!" Lindsay insisted. "Fuck her hard!"

Trish suddenly squawked and roared out in arousal as I began to thrust myself in-and-out of her. Already, I was pounding her as hard as possible, my testicles slapping cruelly against her upturned ass with each and every forward stroke. There was no way that I could go slow with Trish. Not here - and not now. Not with the way she and our charming wife were both dressed...

Trish looked so gorgeous as she thrashed her face from side-to-side beneath me, a series of hot moans and screams emanating from deep within her throat. Her pig-tails were splayed out on either side of the mattress as her whole body squirmed and writhed about in the powerful sensations. The schoolgirl uniform only doubled our shared intensity.

My left hand still clutching one of her breasts, I held onto her hip with my right and continued to feverishly pump myself in-and-out of her at a blinding rate of speed. The pleasure for Trish was evident right now. She clenched her eyes and kept them shut as I dropped the hammer on her.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 02



Chapter 2: Prenatal

- Wednesday, May 20, 2015 -

- Oslo, Norway -

"This hamburger is absolutely delicious," I mused, biting into and salivating over a Norwegian version of the classic American favorite. A thick and juicy beef patty sat atop an even mix of shredded lettuce and shredded Chinese cabbage, with a coating of Thousand Island salad dressing just below it. On top of the patty was lots of extra cheese and bacon, with an apricot-colored mayonnaise sauce that had a distinct gherkin flavor to it. Of course, what hamburger could possibly be complete without two sesame seed buns?

"Strange you would say that here of all places," Amy shrugged, as she sat across from me and enjoyed a healthy chef's salad here in the lunch cafeteria at the university hospital in downtown Oslo, Norway. "Hospital food is not supposed to taste good." Amy raised an eyebrow at me. "Is it better than the hamburgers I fix myself?"

"Of course not, sweetheart." Whoa ... I definitely was not going to attempt to traverse that path. If I told Amy any differently, I could have found myself walking home!

I glanced and focused upon Amy as she continued to enjoy her chef's salad, but ultimately my eyes drifted downward and I found myself fixated upon that beautiful baby bump that was straining against her camisole top. Amy was six months pregnant and, dare I say it, she looked better to me now than she ever had before.

I do not know why, but I have a certain weakness when it comes to the sight of a pregnant woman. Amy was a lovely and attractive young lady with long, fire engine red hair and a smile that could stop a freight train, but she was even more beautiful to me nowadays because her body was preparing itself to bring a new life into the world. Being able to witness her belly slowly expand and grow over the past several months was simply indescribable to me.

Of course, I felt the same way about Kristanna and Pamela when they went through their respective pregnancies. I even married Pamela when she was six months pregnant with Piper. Oh, I will never forget that day; Pamela looked splendid and downright divine in her bridal dress as our unborn daughter continued to nurture and grow inside of her.

Amy knew that I was staring at her baby bump from across the table here in the hospital cafeteria. She reached across and gently grasped my wrist, then made eye contact with me and the two of us proceeded to exchange heartfelt, genuine smiles. The love and admiration I felt for Amy was immense. Rest assured, the feeling was mutual.

"Hey there, guys," Scarlett greeted, literally appearing out of nowhere with a cafeteria tray full of food, taking a seat at the round, circular table with us. "I am so sorry that I am late, but I got really busy all of a sudden and had to postpone lunch for a half-hour."

"It's okay," I told Scarlett. "We are just glad that you are finally here. How's your day been thus far?"

"Busy," she sighed.

Amy and I were at the hospital here in Oslo on this warm, yet breezy Wednesday, for her monthly prenatal checkup. We had a few other places in the area to visit as well today, but asked Scarlett before she left for work this morning if she would like to meet us for lunch in the hospital cafeteria at noon during her usual break time. Her answer was yes, of course; Scarlett was employed here as a labor and delivery nurse in the childbirth center. Because Amy and I would be here for her monthly examination, it only made sense that we all get together and have a friendly lunch.

A true angel of mercy, Scarlett's long-flowing blonde hair was pinned-up into an attractive bun atop her head. She wore a stylish blue nurse's tunic, as well as matching pants and a pair of sneakers. The 30-year-old appeared somewhat frazzled and tired, but I could not help but to smile at her anyway.

Earlier this year on Easter Sunday, I actually went to dinner with Scarlett and her inner family, and asked her to marry me right in front of them. She gave a screeching and tearful yes which meant that soon, Scarlett would indeed be wife number seven for me. Her family seemed happy for her, although most of them did not quite understand (or even approve of) the logistics of our group relationship.

"I've missed you today."

Scarlett blushed! I loved the sight. "Oh, Jeremy..."

"When are you going to quit this job?" I asked her. "I would love for you to be able to spend a lot more time around the house with us. These 12 hour shifts of yours really tear me up. You know, you don't have to work."

"But I love my job!" Scarlett defended herself, nibbling on a turkey melt sandwich. "I went to medical school and studied hard for all those years; I do not want to give up on what I put so much effort into. I know you have more money than some entire countries do, Jeremy, but I like to work. I like to stay active. And I love being a nurse."

"I know," I conceded. "I respect that, too. Just call me greedy, I suppose. I'd like you around more often is all. But I understand you following your life's ambition."

"Have you had time to think about the wedding yet?" Amy asked Scarlett. "Come up with any ideas or plans?"

Scarlett shook her head, but smiled at the mere idea. "No, not yet. The past five, six weeks have seemed like an absolute blur to me. I never once imagined that Jeremy would propose to me the way he did. No wonder he insisted on us going to my family's house alone that day. I had no idea. But fortunately, the wedding is not until next year."

Amy snickered and crinkled her nose. "Jeremy is ALWAYS up to something. You should have learned that by now, Scarlett. He is very sneaky and devious that way." Amy nodded her head at me. "The wheels in his little brain are always spinning."

"Hey there, woman!" I protested, though of course, in a fun and playful manner. "Just what are you trying to say?"

"What are you? Deaf?" Amy shot back, grinning. "You heard me. You are very calculating, and manipulative."

I stifled a laugh and countered, "If I didn't know you any better, Amy, I'd think you're trying to talk bad, and say something negative about me. But I know better."

"Do you?" Scarlett giggled, joining the fun.

"Have you told any of your friends here at the hospital of your engagement?" Amy wondered.

Scarlett shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say to them? My good friends here know Jeremy, but he has been here to visit me with Trish and Lindsay, and now you. They see the two of you with you pregnant, and naturally assume that you're a couple. How do I go about telling them that yes you are married, but I will be joining the relationship too? Yes I am getting married, but my husband will have six other wives? I do not think any of my friends would understand." Scarlett gulped her throat. "Only a very select few of my friends - maybe two or three - even know that I am bisexual."

Amy frowned. "I don't know. I'm glad I don't have to worry about things like that. I keep to our little, inner circle. I don't socialize much outside of it."

"Well, I am a nurse," Scarlett reminded her. "I HAVE to socialize and be approachable, be overly nice and friendly. It is part of my job description. No one wants a grumpy and subdued, quiet nurse when they are in labor. I did talk to one of my patients about Jeremy; told her that he proposed to me. I did not tell her anything beyond that, though."

"So you haven't told any of your friends here at work that you got engaged on Easter Sunday, though?"

Scarlett pouted at Amy. "No. I wish I could."

Perhaps the only true negative about the life our little group had chosen to lead was that we were forced to hide its details from most (if not all) friends, while being overly ridiculed and questioned by certain intrusive family members.

It took a long time, for example, for Lindsay's mother, Leslie, to finally accept the fact that her daughter was happy with us and thus, embrace the decisions her daughter had made and the lifestyle we led. It was still mind-boggling to Leslie, though, that her daughter was married to one man and four women, and literally engaged to two other ladies.

Another example would be my very own sister, Di, who lived in the United States. Di was overjoyed for me when she was under the impression that Kristanna was the only woman in my life. We seemed like the perfect couple to her. To her, I had finally found happiness. But when I eventually confessed to Di that I had other wives as well, she began to rebel, and told me in no uncertain terms that she was very disappointed in me and the path I had chosen. She seemed disgusted.

Whether right or wrong in the way others perceived us - justified or not - I go back to the fact that everyone in our little entourage was incredibly happy. We literally drowned each other out every day in a sea of love and caring. In my mind, at least, that was the only thing that truly mattered. The ladies and I mostly kept to ourselves and did not preach or try to force our beliefs and ideals onto others, either. So why should others insist on telling us how to live?

Still, the secrets that we had to keep - such as Scarlett not being able to let her co-workers know that she was now engaged to me because they had often seen me with others - was something that all of us to deal with on a daily basis. It was a drawback to our relationship, yes. But considering our level of happiness, I would say it was well worth it.

--

"Jeremy!" Amy protested about 40 minutes later, as she and I were in the main elevator at the hospital. "Jeremy, stop that! Someone is going to see us!"

Try as I might, but I could not keep neither my eyes or my hands off of the lovely and captivating Amy. She looked absolutely adorable with a little blue camisole top on, but what caught my attention more than anything was the sassy, black miniskirt Amy wore. Made of pure leather, the miniskirt featured both front and back zippers, and had two rows of rivets and hooks adorning it.

Amy may have been six months pregnant, but that certainly had not detoured her from wearing her patented, trademarked collection of miniskirts on a rather routine basis.

In the elevator, I could not help myself but to first trail my hand down to that plump, picture-perfect ass of hers, and pat it through the leather fabric. Then, I was pulling the miniskirt upward, and reaching for her goods. Of course, my other hand was caressing her abdomen.

"Jeremy, stop!" she giggled at me, as I was diddling away upon her sweet, little clitoris with a pair of curious fingers underneath her panties. The elevator was in motion, and about to reach the ground floor. "Jeremy, stop!"

Indeed, once the elevator's door opened, there was an elderly couple waiting on the other side. Amy may have seemed somewhat flushed, but the man and woman were clueless on what we had been doing seconds earlier as Amy's miniskirt was back down and smoothed into place.

"Let's go, sweetheart," I said to Amy, while looking and nodding at the couple in a friendly manner. They both smiled at us when I planted a kiss upon the side of Amy's head as we exited the elevator.

"That was a nice lunch with Scarlett," Amy commented, as we then strolled down the long corridor toward the main lobby. "She just seems so busy and frantic whenever we come to see her here at the hospital. I feel sorry for her."

"She has a very stressful job," I mused, before stifling a laugh. "Scarlett has to deal with female patients in painful labor on a daily basis. I remember how Kristanna was when she was here, and give birth to Kaden. Kristanna was downright mean and hateful at times that day."

"It was because of the pain and pressure, the anxiety, of being in labor for so long," Amy defended her.

"Oh, I know," I retorted. "I still find it funny, though. Krissy was going through such a rough time; she grabbed me by the shirt collar right in front of Scarlett, and growled that I was NEVER to lay a FINGER on her again."

Amy giggled. "She obviously changed her mind quick."

Seeing an empty sofa directly in front of us, I latched onto Amy's hand and guided her over to it. "Sit down," I instructed her and, although confused, Amy did what I asked. She still had that serious, submissive streak in her.

I took a seat next to Amy and slipped my left arm around her shoulder, then moved my right hand back to its standard place - her stomach. I kissed my beloved wife on the side of her head and cuddled her warm and close to me.

"What are you doing?" she asked, nervously glancing around at all of the people in the busy lobby.

"I don't nearly get to go out with you girls on a one-on-one basis as often as I'd like to," were my words for her. I again kissed the side of Amy's head and added, "But each time I do, I cherish it." I held her even tighter to me and ended, "Let's just stay here and be together for a bit."

"Jeremy..."

"You are incredibly special to me," I mused, looking into her eyes. "You have no idea just how special you are to me. And I love you more than you'll ever know."

"Oh Jeremy..." Amy swooned, suddenly all red-faced and madly blushing herself. She smiled back at me and offered, "I look forward to spending one-on-one time with you more than anything else in my entire life. Whether it is just for a few moments or an entire day, it is what makes me happiest. I love you, Jeremy. You're my centerpiece; my rock..."

Amy was suddenly glowing as she glanced downward and put both hands upon her stomach. "And YOU have no idea, Jeremy, how happy I am that this little angel is going to be part of our lives very, very soon," she beamed at me. "I cannot wait until our baby is born! I thank God every single day that He allowed me the opportunity to finally, one day, become a mother. I never thought it would happen."

Amy rubbed her stomach with both hands and smiled at me. "I love her so much!" she quaked. "Little Dani Grace isn't even born yet, but I love her so much! I just cannot wait until I finally get the opportunity to meet her!"

"Neither can I, honey," I told her. "Neither can I..."

--

Amy and I spent a good 20 minutes just relaxing and being together on the sofa in the hospital lobby. I did not care what anyone else thought about us as we simply sat there and cuddled like most newlyweds often do. Trust me, we received plenty of stares. I found the most gratification out of the jealous looks I got from other men. Amy was picture-pretty, and looked incredibly attractive in her flirty camisole top and leather miniskirt. And oh, that baby bump...

Eventually, the two of us got up from the sofa and decided to continue our day out. With her monthly prenatal visit out of the way, I promised the rest of the day exclusively to Amy.

Oh, and as for the examination itself, everything was fairly routine and the doctor did not seem to find any complications or issues with Amy's pregnancy. There was a long list of standard questions. Was Amy feeling nauseated? Had she felt the baby move recently? Were the movements becoming more or less? Had she been leaking fluid, or was there been any blood loss? Amy had some tests done on her as well - a host of blood work, including a glucose check and anemia screening, and a blood pressure reading.

The doctor sat and spoke with Amy for a long time and was very thorough in asking if she had any questions or concerns, and if she felt any pain or discomfort in any portion of her body. The doctor also referred Amy to a nearby center which specialized in childbirth education classes, suggesting that she enroll there and I attend with her.

But what Amy, as well as yours truly, looked forward to the most with each of these prenatal examinations was having the opportunity to listen to our daughter's heartbeat with a handheld ultrasound device called a Doppler. Amy always got really emotional and was thrilled to listen to this dramatic sign of the little life she and I had created together. Dani Grace's heartbeat always seemed to elicit tears from Amy.

With our medical activities out of the way, our next stop on the itinerary after leaving the hospital was Frammuseet (The Fram Museum). Located in downtown Oslo, The Fram Museum told the tale of Norwegian polar exploration. It is home to an actual ship that was used in Arctic and Antarctic expeditions between the years of 1893 to 1912. Said to have sailed further north and further south than any other wooden ship in recorded history, Fram was preserved and kept in excellent condition here at its museum in Oslo.

Amy was energized and in good spirits as she and I toured the massive vessel. We were able to walk through all three levels of the ship, and felt fascinated listening to the guide explain the many issues and rigors the crew had to endure on a daily basis just in order to survive well more than a century ago. Seeing the tiny bunk beds where the crew slept, as well as the gruesome array of dental and medical equipment, was very interesting and moving. It also made me appreciate modern technology even more.

Perhaps my favorite exhibit of all, but the one I spent the least amount of time exploring, was the Arctic experience passage - or, very simply, the cold room. It was here where one could step inside and feel what it is like, both temperature and conditions wise, to be in the middle of the North Pole. I did not stay there for long, while Amy kept her distance. It felt absolutely brutal inside!

Outside of the ship were several different exhibits and historical artifacts to revel and delight in, as well as video displays and even a theater that told a captivating story about the history of polar exploration and the brave men who pioneered it.

We spent the latter half of the afternoon in a little, seaside village and resort south of Oslo called Drobak. A small town with beautiful wooden shops, restaurants and houses set on the southern coast of Oslofjord, Drobak was one of Amy's favorite places in the entire region. She loved to come here every so often and browse through the various shops and sights. It was remarkable year-round, but even more so during the holiday season with all of the festive decorations and the massive Christmas tree in the center of town.

Last December, our family spent an entire day in Drobak. Kaden and Piper, my two infant children with Kristanna and Pamela, respectively, got to meet Santa Claus for the first time and had their pictures taken with him. I even persuaded Lindsay to sit on old Santa's lap and get her photograph taken as well. I was hopeful Santa would thank me later for that, perhaps with an overstocked stocking on Christmas morning...

Back in the present time, Amy and I stopped and had dinner at a small sandwich shop. It was at this time that, after such a long day out, Amy seemed to lose her luster and become overly tired. It happened fast. I wanted to stay in Drobak a bit longer, but with the time now approaching 6:00pm, Amy and I mutually decided that it would be best to return home to our estate in Sandvika. Truth be told, Amy had not been out and about for such an extended period of time like this for about two months. Today we put a lot on her plate, so to speak, and perhaps pushed her a bit too far.

The drive itself took just under 90 minutes. Able to kick back and relax in the automobile, Amy chatted at length on the telephone during the trip with Kristanna, telling her all about the fun and enjoyable day we spent out as a couple. Apparently Kristanna, Devon, and Pamela spent the majority of their day literally burning through their credit cards at the local shopping center. As for Trish and Lindsay, Kristanna explained to us, "We came home and found them in the bubble bath, hugging and kissing as if it was their wedding night. You can imagine the rest." Certainly, there was nothing wrong with that. Was there?

Once we finally arrived at the mansion, Amy and I were met at the door by the charming duo of Kristanna and Devon. I told them that I was hopping into the Jeep to take my nightly tour of the farm's perimeter, wanting to be certain that all of the fences were intact (and some animal, or pack of them, did not break through and/or damage them).




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 02



Amy wanted to go on the little ride with me as well - probably wanting to extend our one-on-one time for just awhile longer. So, after assuring Kristanna and Devon that she felt fine and did not need to rest and/or lie down just yet, Amy and I got into the Jeep and took off.

I only made it halfway through the perimeter check before I stopped the Jeep and pulled Amy across the seat and onto my lap. I simply could resist; she and I must have hugged and kissed each other for ten minutes straight without saying a single word between us. Nothing really needed to be said, of course, as the love coursing both through and all around us was imminent and wonderfully powerful. It was the perfect ending to what turned out to be a truly perfect day.

--

Trish slapped me on the shoulder and giggled at the same time as she walked by the next morning in the dining room, obviously having caught me ogling at Lindsay's precious, little ass (and the spandex pants which encased it) as the intoxicating 20-year-old prepared a plate for herself at the breakfast buffet. Trish even gave me an incessant, playful stare, and waved a menacing fist my way. In return, I grinned and simply stuck my tongue out at her.

I felt an arm curl itself around me from behind. I turned and was delighted to find out it was Scarlett. She quickly found my lips with her own for a slow, tongue-laced kiss, then slid around to my front and took a seat upon my knee.

"Hi baby," Lindsay squealed seconds later, going right over to Trish. The two ladies hugged and shared a simple kiss as Scarlett looked on with the biggest, toothiest smile.

"You pull that stunt on me again, Devvy," I then heard Kristanna's voice in the distance, getting closer, "and I will not hesitate to put you over my knee, and spank you!"

"Oh really?" Devon retorted in an equally playful and jovial tone, matching her wife's. "I'd like to see you try!"

Still seated on my knee, Scarlett kept an arm around my neck and shoulder as she turned to watch Kristanna and Devon enter the dining room. Pamela was close behind them.

"I'll spank both of you if you don't start playing nice."

Kristanna and Devon turned toward Pamela in response to those words, then both broke into a maniacal laughing fit that lasted for several seconds. "Oh Pammy!" Kristanna eventually giggled at her. "Pammy, just ... hush. Really."

"I come bearing gifts," Amy announced, entering from the adjacent kitchen with an entire plate full of bacon and toast. She set it down across the buffet table and encouraged us, "Come on everyone, dig in and eat up!"

Trish took a slice of bacon and broke it in half, then fed it to Lindsay, who proceeded to erotically nibble on her beautiful bride's finger more than she did the food itself. Kristanna and Devon were especially playful this morning; they were gently pushing each other and acting as if they were going to break out into a fight. Amy tried to go back to the kitchen to continue cooking, but Trish intercepted her at the midway point for a very deep and pleasurable kiss. It quickly turned into a three-way kiss with Lindsay involved.

Pamela drew her hand back and, with a huge smile, she cruelly smacked Kristanna's denim-clad backside with an open palm. Everyone turned and looked at them instantly; Kristanna's eyes were wide and bulging, and she could barely contain her laughter. Still, Pamela was smart. She turned and ran away in a giggling fit of her own.

"Oh, you're going to get it big time!..." Kristanna yelled out in warning, before sprinting off and chasing after her.

Still nestled all nice and snug upon my knee, Scarlett snickered and watched Kristanna until she disappeared around the corner. She then turned and looked at me, and smiled.

"This has GOT to be the happiest family on the face of the planet," Scarlett observed. "I am just honored and thrilled beyond belief that you want me to be a part of it, Jeremy."

Scarlett moved in for a kiss of her own, but held off at the last possible instant with the sound of Pamela screaming - as if she was in grave peril - somewhere off in the distance. A split-second later, there was the loud, unmistakable sound of hand-blasting-upon-ass.

"That hurt, Krissy!" Pamela whined, but still giggling.

"It was SUPPOSED to hurt!" she shot back.

Scarlett re-focused her attention upon me and, with a big, beaming smile, followed through with the kiss. It was as if my freshly-minted fiancee suddenly realized that life could not possibly be any better than this...

End of Chapter 2.



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 03



Friday, May 22, 2015

Sandvika, Norway

It was 6:00am here on the farm in Norway, in our mansion, and I was up and already about. I gingerly rolled out of bed moments earlier and quietly excused myself, not wanting to wake or rouse the seven sleeping beauties that were left behind. I did get one final glimpse of them before leaving, though. Quite honestly, I could not resist.

It was a mish-mash of symmetrically perfect bodies, strewn about the mattress, jumbled and contorted together in ways that I could not even begin to describe. It was, for lack of a better term, my own personal fairy tale. How could I not stop and admire the scene, even if just for a fleeting moment? After all, how many men in the world could say that they were married to six captivating, drop-dead gorgeous women, while also having a live-in fiancee as well? Were the eight of us enough? We were all a happy and loving, polyamorous family.

I checked on my two infant children - Kaden and Piper; both of them were napping quite peacefully in their respective cribs. Ahh, the mansion was actually quiet. This place always seemed hectic and was bristling with activity, but all was tranquil and serene now. It felt sort of eerie, actually. I was definitely not accustomed to this at all. I usually did not wake up until around 9:00am each morning. Lindsay always enjoyed teasing me; she would say that I am an old man, and I needed all the sleep I could possibly get!

Nevertheless, I ventured off to the kitchen and decided to tempt fate by cooking a small breakfast for myself. I could not help but to chuckle and smile several times throughout, doing what was normally a routine and mundane process for most people. But me? When I was the last time I actually stood at the kitchen stove and cooked a meal like this?

Amy (one of my six blushing brides) was our self-appointed cook and housekeeper, and would flip out if she knew that I was doing this right now. Amy was very hyper sensitive when it came to the kitchen; she wanted to do all of the cooking herself. This was supposedly her imminent domain.

Before Amy took this role, of course, I had Louisa - the elderly woman who was our personal cook and housekeeper while we were living on the island. Indeed, it had been quite a long time since I had prepared my own meal (I am excluding all of the many times that I have grilled out, though - no one, on the other hand, was allowed to touch the grill except me).

"You're going to burn those eggs if you cook them any further," came a soft, squealy voice from behind me. I turned and felt instant happiness at the sight of sweet, little Lindsay, who still looked as if she was half-asleep. Wearing a black Cincinnati Bengals replica jersey that went down past her knees, Lindsay stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a loving, thoughtful embrace. She enjoyed using the jersey of her hometown football team back in the United States as a night-shirt. "Good morning, Jeremy," the 20-year-old chirped, but with a definite grumble. "How long have you been awake? I didn't feel you get out of bed this morning."

"Not long," I told her, returning her warm embrace in kind. "Is anyone else awake now, too?"

"I don't think so," Lindsay murmured, stepping away and sighing contently. Indeed, she was barely awake! Did Lindsay wake up this early simply because I was not in bed?

"Why don't I give you this round of eggs and bacon that I made, honey?" was my suggestion, already flipping the steamy goodness onto a plate for her. "Get yourself some orange juice, or some of your pineapple punch, and take a seat at the table. I'll fix some more food for myself."

"Well, I AM a bit hungry," she conceded, snatching the plate from me and walking over to the little, circular table for two in the corner. Lindsay took a seat and promptly began to dab and poke at her food with a knife and fork.

"I know you'll like this," I mused, walking over and offering her two pieces of fresh toast with butter melted on top. I planted a kiss upon the side of Lindsay's head and she giggled in response, then I went back to the stove and began preparing another batch of food.

"Did you have a good night's rest?" again came that infectious, sweet voice from behind me about a minute later. "I guess Trish and I finally came in and fell asleep around one o'clock, or thereabouts. Everyone else was fast asleep except for Pamela; she was tending to Piper."

"It wasn't bad," I said in response, glancing back toward her, referring to my night and the amount of rest I received. "I went to bed with Krissy and Amy around eleven."

Lindsay was giggling again. "That was pretty funny what Krissy said last night when you and her went out to the grocery store with Kaden after it was already dark."

"Oh yeah? What was that?"

"Krissy said you two were living on the edge by taking Kaden out so dangerously close to his bed-time."

I was chuckling as well. Kaden, of course, was the 10-month-old son that I had with Kristanna. "Oh, I remember her saying that. Krissy always has something funny hidden up her sleeve." I smiled at Lindsay as she really began to dig into her breakfast plate. Perhaps I was not that bad of a cook? Maybe I could take over Amy's role? Nah... "What did you and Trish do til one o'clock in the morning, honey?"

"We must have played Grand Theft Auto on the computer for like four or five hours last night." Ahh yes, video games. Lindsay, just like Trish, was an avid gamer. They enjoyed going online and playing a multitude of different games with others throughout the world. Lindsay was most interested in Grand Theft Auto, while Trish still held a certain affinity for World of Warcraft. Together, both of them played countless other games as well.

Myself, I had finally gotten past the gaming stage of my life a few years ago. Still, there were rare instances when I would sit down with Lindsay and Trish for an hour or two and play alongside them. It always made them happy. None of the other ladies, though, had any interest in gaming.

"It's addicting," Lindsay offered. "I just love G-T-A. We hooked up and played online with my sister, Alison, from Ohio, as well as two of Trish's cousins from Canada. It's fun to get on voice chat with everyone and just chill out. They sound as if they are in the room right with us!"

"How is Alison doing?"

"Good," Lindsay nodded. "She claims to be getting really serious with her boyfriend, but you know how that goes." My young wife laughed merrily. "I've heard that same thing from Ali in the past when she has talked about other boyfriends." Lindsay giggled again. "Trish was getting pretty mad at me last night. I must have gunned down her character in G-T-A 12 or 13 times in a row before she was to finally pop me." She snickered one more time. "I kept stealing her money."

"You are pretty ruthless when it comes to that game."

"Oh, it's all in good fun," Lindsay smiled.

Another unexpected, but certainly a pleasant surprise, Scarlett suddenly walked into the kitchen and immediately seemed amused by the fact Lindsay and I were having an early breakfast. She was probably thinking just as I was - Amy would not approve! Did the fact, though, that I was no longer in bed rouse Scarlett at this early hour, too? Perhaps I should have stayed, so everyone got more rest.

"Hey," she simply greeted us.

"What are you doing up so early?"

"I have to be at work in less than three hours," she told me. "Just got called in for an eight hour shift."

My frown, as you may imagine, was very pronounced. "You were supposed to be off today, Scarlett! I hate it when the hospital calls you in like that." It was selfish of me to feel this way, I admit, but I really wished that Scarlett would just cut ties and quit her nursing job. There was absolutely no need for her to work a single day for the rest of her life with all of the financial resources I had.

Scarlett, however, was bull-headed, and it was impossible to talk her into quitting what had been her life's ambition. Again, being selfish here, but Devon wanted to get into nursing too. One day, I may have two women in my life working these crazy, standard 12 hour shifts with the real possibility of being called into their job at any given moment.

Scarlett snatched a small carton of orange juice from the refrigerator, then went over to Lindsay and promptly kissed her on the lips. "Good morning, baby," Scarlett greeted her, before coming my way and offering me a quick kiss as well. She opened her drink and took a healthy sip, then gave an agitated expression and whined, "I have to get ready for work."

And with that, Scarlett turned and walked away.

"Scarlett doesn't seem too happy with being called in," Lindsay astutely observed. "I think her, Kristanna and Devon had plans of going to the fitness center today."

"I just don't understand..."

"It's what Scarlett wants to do," Lindsay reminded me. "She loves being a nurse, Jeremy. I know you do not agree with it, but it is what she wants. I'm the same way; going to the church in downtown Oslo and devoting a lot of my time to it. I don't think it would be so bad if Scarlett did not work all those crazy hours and shifts."

"You going to the church in Oslo for a few hours, a few days a week, is a LOT different than Scarlett working 12 hour shifts with added overtime, and putting in anywhere from 36 to 56 hours per week," I told her in a deep tone.

"I just said that, Jeremy..."

Lightly fuming, I turned away from Lindsay and re-focused on the task at hand. My breakfast meal was almost ready. I kept stirring the eggs and turning them over until I felt a pair of slender arms coil themselves around me from behind, and then a pair of lips kissing the back of my neck.

"I know what will make you feel better, Jeremy."

"What's that?" I grumbled.

"We can go to the voyeur room and watch an old movie from the past," Lindsay suggested.

Hmmmmm, the voyeur room. Once an integral staple of my life as I often eavesdropped on the ladies during their initial visit to the island two years ago with hidden surveillance cameras and microphones scattered in strategic places, the voyeur room - and my obsessive need for being in it - had taken a backseat, so to speak, once all of the marriages began happening in August 2013.

Still, I had a fully-functional voyeur room here in our mansion which was built just last year, with 206 different video cameras and microphones strewn about the property. However, I barely spent any time in the voyeur room any more. There was rarely a need - or even a desire - for me to do so.

But Lindsay's suggestion for cheering me up was to go to the voyeur room and watch an old movie from the past. In the archives, I had every sexual encounter which ever took place on the island, as well as important events such as engagements and those soul-touching discussions that I truly believe helped draw the ladies toward me to begin with.

"What movie do you have in mind, honey?"

"Maybe when you and Trish took my virginity?"

I shook my head. "An awesome video, no doubt, but I must have watched that 10,000 times by now." Indeed, I will never forget the date of June 6, 2013 - that was when Lindsay showed up in my private bedroom on the island and literally begged Trish and I to take her virginity in a three-some. What ensued was one of the most remarkable evenings of my life. To be 39 years of age at the time like I was, and help partake in the deflowering of an 18-year-old virgin ... wow. I certainly am proud of the fact that Trish and I did everything right that evening as it pertained to Lindsay.

"I know what we can watch, then!" Lindsay chirped. "What about the next day? While you were picking Kristanna up and devoting the entire day to her, Jeremy - remember she was a few days late arriving to the island because of her passport issues - I had my first one-on-one sexual encounter with Trish." Bingo! A vastly underrated video in my collection, and not something I had watched all too often. Nor was Lindsay's initial one-on-one coupling with Trish something that I covered and described in the original story.

"Even though I had sex with you and Trish the day before," Lindsay mused, "I remember still being so incredibly uptight and nervous with Trish when it was just her and me. But by the end of it, I think, I was finally able to loosen up and embrace the way things were going to be on the island for me."

I turned and smiled at her. "You? Uptight and nervous about having sex? The way you are nowadays, two years ago seems more like 50 years ago. You are a completely different person today than you were back then. You have sex with someone in the family, Lindsay, every single day."

"Yeppers, I'm a little floozy now!" she giggled.

"When was the last day you didn't have sex?"

The 20-year-old shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno. Maybe two, three months ago? There is always someone for me. So would you like to watch that video of me and Trish from 2013, Jeremy? It's always good to relive our past."

"Yes honey, I would. After breakfast."

----

20 minutes later, I was perched at the control panel in the voyeur room with Lindsay leisurely sitting on my lap, the side of her face resting upon my shoulder, as I scanned the archived files for the video in question. Those 206 cameras and microphones hidden throughout the mansion and its property pumped live images and sounds into the 63 various monitors in front of me if their accompanying motion detector was activated. In many ways, the voyeurm room resembled a television production studio. I could turn feeds on or off, mute audio when I wanted, and switch what each monitor displayed with just a couple of keystrokes.

- Trish&Lindsay06072013-FR-Sofa.avi -

"Found it," I announced to my angelic wife. I clicked on the file and the images and sound from that memorable day immediately appeared on the big screen just in front of us. I had to do a double-take because Trish, who I now only knew as a beautiful, ravishing brunette, was actually a bodacious blonde in the video from two years ago. Sometimes, I had to remind myself that when I first met her, Trish was a blonde. She was beautiful either way, of course, but I had grown accustomed and attached to her in recent times as a brunette. Trish claimed she would never change her hair color again.

"I look so dumb and scared!" Lindsay giggled, pointing at the monitor. "I was really nervous that day."

"Yesterday was quite an eventful day," Trish said in the video, as she sat side-by-side on the sofa with Lindsay in the front room of the estate back on the island, halfway across the world. Trish ran a tender hand through Lindsay's free-flowing hair and ruffled it up a bit. "Are you having any regrets about what happened with me and Jeremy?"

"I'm just really confused now, I think." Lindsay was clearly distraught in the film. Growing up in a religious household as the daughter of a minister, Lindsay surely never thought she would surrender her virginity to both a man and a woman in a three-some a mere four days after meeting them. "I don't regret what happened, I think, Trish ... because I think you and Jeremy together were the best choices for me of anyone here. I just ... I do not know. I just feel confused."

"What are you feeling confused about?"

"I don't know!" she fretted. "Maybe after what happened, am I attracted to girls more than I am guys?" She glanced downward and continued in a shy, humble tone, "I enjoyed being with you, Trish, as much as I did Jeremy. The way you touched me, and how your ... your tongue felt, on my..." Her voice trailed off, but she soon picked up, "But then when Jeremy was inside of me, I felt..."

"I bet you felt good," Trish finished the thought for her.

"Yeah," she admitted. "Yeah, I did." She sighed deeply and kept silent for several seconds, perhaps lost in thought. "I just never thought it would be ... that way."

"Losing your virginity in a three-some?"

"Yeah."

"You're the one who instigated everything, honey."

Lindsay pouted. "I know. I just thought it would be the best way to pay back Jeremy - do something for him - because he offered to wire that money to my mom back in Ohio."

"Jeremy does not seem to be the type of guy who would expect anything like that from you in return," Trish said. "I think he sent your family that money, sweetie, simply because you told him what a bad situation they are in. Jeremy was not looking for any sexual favors in return."

Lindsay was suddenly very pensive. "Am I a good kisser?"

"What?" Trish retorted, caught off-guard.

"Am I a good kisser?" she repeated. "My last boyfriend, Eddie, I went out with him for a long time but refused to have sex with him. We broke up because of it, and then he went around the school telling everyone that I am a horrible kisser." Clearly upset, Lindsay continued, "I just want to know if it's true or not. Please be honest with me."

"This is so embarrassing..." Lindsay, whose face was red, told me in the present time as she sat upon my lap. "I cannot believe that is actually ME talking!" I patted her kneecap and continued to focus upon the monitor.

"I think you are a great kisser, honey!" Trish stressed to the young and highly impressionable 18-year-old. "I could hug and kiss on you all day, and all night!"

"Eddie really hurt my feelings when he said that and spread it throughout the whole school," Lindsay sniffed. "I just hope it isn't true."

"Eddie was just trying to hurt you!" Trish shot back. "He was bad for you, anyway. He broke up with you simply because you did not want to have sex with him. That should tell you, honey, that he did not care about you one bit."

"But what if it's true?" she screeched. "What if I really am a bad kisser? If I am, I doubt you would ever tell me so, Trish. Neither would Jeremy. Both of you are too nice."

"That's nonsense," Trish insisted. "I got an idea, Lindsay. Why don't you kiss me now?"

"What?" That question, on the other hand, caught Lindsay off-guard. It also seemed to frazzle her a bit.

"Kiss me," Trish reiterated.

"What? Now?" Lindsay returned, before holding back a laugh. "You want me to kiss you?"

"If you weren't any good at it, baby, why would I ask you to do it?" Trish smiled and purred like a kitten, then added, "Besides, practice makes perfect. The more practice you get at kissing, honey, the better you will get at it. I do not think you need any improvement, but apparently you think you do. So why not you and I kiss each other for awhile?"

"Trish, I don't..." Lindsay spoke, but her words were quickly cut off once her 30-year-old counterpart (and future wife-to-be) leaned forward and found her mouth with her own. Suddenly, Lindsay's inner defenses were temporarily down as Trish touched lips with her in a quick-hitting series of five, delicate exchanges.

"You are NOT a bad kisser, Lindsay."

"Trish!" she complained, snapping away from her and pulling back. "I can't believe you just did that!"

"C'mon!" Trish insisted. "I know you liked it, too."

"Well, I did, but..."

Trish placed both hands upon Lindsay's shoulders and looked her square in the eyes. "Listen, honey. I have been around and seen many pretty girls in my lifetime - I'm a fair amount older than you - but never before have I seen a girl who is more utterly beautiful and attractive than you are." Lindsay's face turned beet-red and she momentarily glanced away in response, but Trish cupped her chin and brought their gazes back together. "I would LOVE to kiss you. I want to do other things with you too! C'mon, maybe I can show you a couple of things? Who knows? You may learn something and can apply it to your future relationships."

Lindsay was confused. "What do you want to do?"

Trish shrugged her shoulders. "Each other?"




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 03



Lindsay appeared very squeamish and upset now. "Oh ... I don't know! Should I really be getting involved with other girls like this?"

"I could teach you." Trish shrugged her shoulders again. "I could show you. Trust me, it's really easy. You enjoyed yourself with Jeremy and me last night, correct?" Lindsay nodded her head as Trish ended, "C'mon, it will be fun."

"Oh ... I don't know."

"What a whiny little priss I was," Lindsay told me with a smile, again in the current time, as she rustled about upon my lap. "I'm glad Trish persisted like she did."

"We don't have to do anything too raunchy," Trish said, grasping Lindsay by the hand and then moving in for another soft, languid kiss.

"You're kissing me back," Trish admonished her, smiling.

"You're forcing me to!" Lindsay fretted.

Their lips met again and proceeded to dance and glide together in a slow, blissful union. Very tender, and very timid, their series of kisses nevertheless caused my cock to pulse and spring to life within the confines of my shorts. Lindsay noticed, obviously, and quickly fished it out and began briskly stroking its length in the open air. I settled down even deeper into the chair and moaned pleasurably.

After about 60 seconds of their loving exchange, Trish giggled and pulled back.

"Why are you laughing?" Lindsay wondered.

"Because I could do this all day," Trish responded.

Lindsay took a deep breath and sighed, obviously shocked and appalled that she allowed herself to be put into such a position. She brought a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes as the realization began to sink in even more.

"Look," Trish murmured, pointing at the goosebumps across the teenager's shoulders and arms. "You're already breaking out all over. Admit it, you're enjoying this."

"I don't even know what to say!"

"You don't have to say anything," Trish barely whispered. "Just, let me show you. I promise you'll like it."

Lindsay offered no resistance whatsoever as Trish swooped in for another round of kisses, these a tad more intense and probing than the last two sets. She brought a hand to Lindsay's delicate neck and clutched it for a brief moment, then slid downward and began to cup and massage one of her smallish breasts through the colorful tank-top that she wore. Lindsay groaned and tilted the side of her face upon the sofa cushion as Trish slid one strap of the tank-top down her shoulder. She moved that hand into Lindsay's humble cleavage and rubbed there, then pulled back and gazed into her eyes.

"I love you, Lindsay," Trish proclaimed for the first time. "I want to make you happy. I want you to be comfortable."

Lindsay was anything but at the moment, now trembling and shaking like a leaf in the wind as Trish held her lips mere inches from her own. Trish snaked her tongue into her room-mate's mouth for a deep, far-reaching kiss, and the reaction she got was quite favorable.

"Why haven't any of my boyfriends kissed me like that in the past?" Lindsay wondered once it was over.

"Because they don't know how," Trish surmised, sliding the other strap of Lindsay's top down, before peeling it away and exposing her bra-clad breasts. Lindsay was still trembling as Trish moved downward and began to splay a series of gentle, angel-like kisses all across her neck and shoulders, and various parts of her bra.

She slid one bra strap down, fully exposing Lindsay's left breast, and looked at her with deep, smoldering eyes. Trish cupped and muzzled that breast with her hand, saying, "You are so pretty, Lindsay. You could be a fashion model and make millions of dollars if you wanted." She continued to massage that bare breast, but focused her lips and tongue on the other one, with the bra cup still covering it.

"It's okay," Trish assured Lindsay, now sliding the bra off and tossing it elsewhere. Lindsay made an involuntary move to cover and shield her breasts, but Trish nudged both arms away and again looked deep into her eyes, and her soul. "Settle down and relax, honey. Just relax."

Lindsay took a deep, ragged breath, and nodded her head.

Trish dropped down to her knees between Lindsay's outstretched legs and now squeezed and prodded each of her breasts with both hands. Lindsay then tossed her head back and sighed in pure arousal once Trish moved her mouth to one of those breasts and began to gently dine on its nipple. Lindsay reclined back further upon the sofa.

"It's okay to enjoy this," Trish soothed her. "I want you to enjoy yourself." She went right back to the nipple and sucked on it as if she was an infant seeking nourishment.

"Oh God..." Lindsay gently wailed out, after 15 seconds.

"Let me take this off of you," Trish whispered, pulling the tank-top, which had been bunched at Lindsay's stomach, up and over her head. Now completely topless, Lindsay's gaze was intent and locked squarely onto her older teacher.

Trish made a motion to unbutton Lindsay's little pair of faded denim shorts, but she jerked about and suddenly got cold feet in the process. "Relax," Trish insisted, her voice soft, as she moved away from the shorts and returned her focus to Lindsay's breasts.

Lindsay seemed content and okay with the fact that Trish was basically making love to her breasts with her lips and tongue. This continued for another minute or so, then Trish moved down and unbuttoned the front of Lindsay's denim shorts. "You okay?" she wondered, and this time, Lindsay reluctantly nodded her head in approval.

"Oh my God," Lindsay moaned, obviously unsure what to think, as Trish moved between her thighs and began to plant a series of loving kisses and nibbles upon the denim fabric that still covered it. She kissed each of her upper thighs, as well as her inner thighs, and then began to concentrate and focus on that little, 18-year-old mound, through the fabric.

"I want to make you feel good," Trish reassured Lindsay, who for a moment seemed to waver on whether or not this should continue. Trish undid the zipper and reached inside for a luscious feel, but Lindsay began to squirm and writhe about in an uncomfortable fashion.

"I don't know about this," she complained.

"I'm just here to make you comfortable and at ease," Trish reiterated. "Trust me, you will enjoy this."

"I'm REALLY nervous..."

"It's okay to be nervous." With that, Trish nudged the shorts downward ever so slightly, then reached inside again and rubbed Lindsay's nether regions with an open palm. She again peppered all portions of her thighs with angel kisses.

"Why don't you take your shorts off for me?"

Lindsay seemed torn, with a pained expression upon her face, but she nevertheless complied and wiggled out of those denim shorts. Trish deftly slid them down her legs, past her knees and calves, to her ankles, then tossed the garment into what might as well been oblivion. Now, the only thing keeping Lindsay from being completely and gloriously nude in front of her future wife was a simple pair of bikini panties.

"You've got to help me here," Trish told her, gauging her reaction. "If you don't want to do this, Lindsay, you have to tell me now."

"I ... I just don't know..."

To help quell her anxieties, Trish moved upward and attached her lips to Lindsay's for another series of kisses. This time, the savory exchange of lips and tongues was much more needful and passionate than before. In fact, Lindsay seemed to be just as much into the act of kissing Trish as she was her. Trish straddled her knee and sat down, allowing herself to get lost in the delight of kisses.

"Put your arms around me," Trish whispered at her.

Lindsay proceeded to slip one hand around Trish's shoulder in a loose embrace, and placed her other hand upon her waistline. Dissatisfied with this, Trish then made Lindsay wrap both arms completely around her torso, and clutch her tightly, as the kiss continued.

"I care about you, and I want you to relax and have fun on the island," Trish murmured, slipping her own arms around Lindsay's slender body and hugging her warmly. The pair of ladies continued to gently kiss and serenade each others' mouth as if they were already madly in love.

Eventually, Trish trailed her lips down to Lindsay's neck and then her shoulders, and again splayed kisses across them. She returned to her breasts and slurped on each nipple for several seconds, before drifting even lower and nudging her lips and mouth upon Lindsay's panty-covered crotch. "Relax," Trish hushed her, again shifting focus and now lying down on the bed beside her girlfriend, and kissing her flush on the lips.

"What's this?" Trish giggled, glancing downward, as Lindsay brought a hand to one of her breasts and stroked it through the light summer dress that she had on.

"I like your body, Trish. Especially your breasts. They are so big! I wish mine were like yours..."

With those words, Trish drove her tongue into Lindsay's mouth for another thorough, deep-rooted kiss.

"Oh my God..." Lindsay moaned, as Trish slipped a hand back into her panties and began to lovingly frig and caress her pussy underneath its fabric. Soon, Trish again straddled Lindsay, but this time placed her knees on either side of her abdomen and sat there. She reached down and latched onto those little breasts with both hands, all the while offering her younger lover a reassuring smile.

Trish again switched positions, sliding in between Lindsay's thighs and pressing their pelvises together as one, before going for another sordid, mouth-to-mouth kiss. She sat up one more time, and moved off to the side.

Lindsay again sighed as Trish took the initiative by slipping both straps of her own dress down her shoulders. The dress, a colorful and attractive outfit with tropical flower designs scattered all over it, gave way to a purple bra. Trish sat up erect, then cupped and squeezed her own breasts in front of Lindsay, and then peeled the bra downward. She unhooked it in back and casually flipped it to the floor beside them.

Trish then pushed her dress downward and raised both knees, one at a time, to step out of it. Now simply in a pair of panties herself - these ones purple like her bra - Trish moved a knee between Lindsay's outstretched thighs and erotically nudged her with it. Lindsay's lithe, slender frame actually began to buck and churn about in response to what the vastly experienced 30-year-old was doing to her.

Elegant, beautiful, vibrant and full of her own kind of eternal sunshine, Trish was charming, understated and the quintessential girl next door. This was amazing for me to sit back and relax, and watch Trish seduce Lindsay during a very early stage of their relationship. Trish was also very reserved and subdued in this video; everything she did on this day, it seemed, was strictly for Lindsay. She was not worried or concerned with getting any satisfaction herself.

Trish took hold of Lindsay's right hand and pulled it down between her very own thighs. "Play with yourself for me," she whispered and Lindsay, as if on cue, began to comply, openly massaging and stroking her sweet, little pussy through her panties. "Keep doing it ... don't stop," Trish urged, yet again gliding upward and kissing her on the lips.

With Lindsay now openly pleasuring herself, Trish laid down next to her on the large sofa and started doing the same thing. She reached underneath her panties and stroked her moist, little clitoris as this time, Lindsay now sought her lips out for a kiss. Lindsay found Trish's mouth and the two enjoyed another beautiful exchange.

When their lips parted ways, Trish reclined back upon the sofa and began to focus on her masturbation. It seemed as if Lindsay wanted to one-up her, so to speak, as she began to move her hand faster and show much more emotion.

"Make yourself cum," Trish whispered at her.

Lindsay was much more comfortable and at ease, but I was fairly certain she was not ready to have a self-induced climax in front of someone else at this stage of her life yet. Trish must have sensed this, and like the expert little seductress she was showcasing herself to be, she again settled between Lindsay's thighs and pressed their pelvises together.

"Hook your leg around my waist," Trish instructed her and when she did, Lindsay began to moan and grunt out in passion as Trish gently thrusted her hips as if she was a man mounting and penetrating her in the missionary position.

"God, Trish!" Lindsay rumbled.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes ... yes, it does."

Trish increased her speed and tempo, and the sofa began to rock back-and-forth and make noises as the simulated sex motion became much more heated. Even better, Lindsay had two ripe handfuls of Trish's overflowing breasts, and was not about to let them go as she eagerly cupped each luscious mound of flesh. Soon, Lindsay was losing herself in the sensations. She wrapped both legs around Trish's waistline and squeezed tight as the two rocked together on the very brink of erotic madness.

The moans and yelps - just the pure sounds - coming from Lindsay's mouth were literal music to my ears. It was simply incredible to witness Trish mount Lindsay in this manner, and basically dry hump her with both of their panties still on. I focused on Trish's athletic, beautiful body as it moved back-and-forth over top of Lindsay, rocking her world.

When the two ladies held and clutched each other even tighter, their bodies gyrating and moving together as one, Lindsay let loose with her loudest cry yet and proclaimed, "Oh dear God, Trish ... you're gonna make me cum!"

Lindsay screeched and wailed out at the top of her lungs as her body literally exploded in a sea of lust and emotion, and went through the joyous progression of orgasm. Trish halted with the thrusting motion, then simply smothered Lindsay's mouth with her own for a deep, tongue-filled kiss...

"I love you, Lindsay," Trish offered in the aftermath.

"I love you too, Trish," she responded in kind, short of breath. "Oh God, thank you so much for what you just did." Lindsay's entire body was actually shaking!

Giggling, Trish pulled away and looked down at her unexpected and new-found partner. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"No one has ever made me feel so good!" Lindsay whined, perhaps somewhat ashamed (but nonetheless accepting) of herself, and what had just happened. "How could you give me a bigger orgasm than any of the ones I had yesterday?"

Trish was still giggling and snickering. "I didn't even go down on you!"

And then, the video faded to black. The movie was over...

I would be remiss if I did not mention in the current time, Lindsay was already on her knees in front of me here in the voyeur room and her mouth was stuffed full of my hard, raging cock. She had assumed this position about ten minutes ago - perhaps midway through the video - her sweet, moist lips wrapped tightly around my shaft. Lindsay clearly witnessed how aroused I had become while watching the monitor and, as a result, decided to take matters into her own hands. Her pretty blue eyes were trained on my face, her blonde head bobbing up-and-down as if her very life depended on it.

Lindsay had definitely learned over the previous two years how to be a spirited and ferocious little cocksucker. I was nearly blown out of my mind, my universe just turned upside down, as Lindsay promptly brought me to ultimate climax with her wondrous mouth and those little, stroking hands of hers.

Lindsay was looking up at me, smiling the whole time, as she prepared for her frothy reward. And then it came.

With a loud, animalistic grunt, I let go with a stream of semen that flopped across the middle of Lindsay's face, to her chin, across her lips and nose, and to her forehead. I grasped my cock and moved it about slightly, sending the next squirt onto Lindsay's upper lip and splashing from her right cheek to her right eyelid. The ensuing laser beam got her on the left cheek and left eyelid, followed by two more thick bursts onto her nose, and a few, lesser subsiding blasts directly across her white, glistening teeth.

"Wow!" Lindsay gushed, awestruck. "I feel like somebody dropped a milkshake on me!" Lindsay then giggled, as absolute gobs of sperm just dangled and trickled down from all portions of her darling face in a truly obscene, nasty manner.

I again reclined back in the chair and growled in utter satisfaction. At the same time, however, I noticed that one of the live monitors here in the voyeur room was active and registering some activity. The feed would only show if the motion detectors that went along with the hidden cameras and microphones were triggered. I quickly became concerned, though, at the image of Trish openly sobbing and weeping on the edge of our bed, with Kristanna, Devon, Pamela, Amy and Scarlett huddled around her in a support formation. Then, I realized that many of them were crying as well.

Lindsay must have saw the look of concern flash across my face, because she quickly sat up and stared at the monitor as well. The audio was not turned on, but it was readily apparent that something was horribly wrong with Trish. Lindsay glanced at me for a split-second with an expression full of trepidation and fright, then sprang upward and darted out of the voyeur room as if she was shot out of a cannon. I pulled my shorts up and went right after her.

"TRISH?" Lindsay howled once we entered the bedroom, where Trish - Lindsay's wife (as well as mine, obviously) - was seated on the edge of the mattress, looking more upset and distraught than I had ever seen her before. Her face was just covered in a sheet of heavy, thick tears, and her wireless telephone was laying on the floor beside her, as if it had been dropped there.

Again, I could sense that something was horribly wrong. Pamela was now in a nearby chair, holding and comforting our daughter Piper, who was crying uncontrollably, in her arms.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Lindsay demanded, running over to Trish and sliding on her knees, stopping just short of her. Lindsay glared up at Trish, who just continued to bawl her eyes out, and began to get emotional herself. "Baby, TELL ME what is wrong!" she pleaded with her.

"I ... I..." Trish could barely speak. "I ... I got a call from my ... my mom. She s-said my d-dad was coming home from wo-wo-work, but he got in-into a ... a ... a ... horrible ... c-c-c-car ... acc-acc-acc-acci-acci ... dent."

Kristanna clutched Amy close to her and both of them quickly sat down together on the corner sofa.

"M-Mom said Dad ... Daddy ... he ... he ... he ... d-d-d-died at the h-hospital."

Lindsay screeched out in absolute horror at the top of her lungs like a wild banshee, and literally hit the ceiling. She brought both hands to her mouth and tried to cover it, but they were trembling far too much. Having unexpectedly lost her own father on November 4, 2012, all of the heartache and pain that Lindsay experienced on that day must have come rushing back all at once, and hit her like a tidal wave.

Trish's father was dead? He died as a result of injuries stemming from an automobile accident? John? The same John who had always been nice and cordial, and very friendly, toward me? It took a few seconds for me to actually process that.

"I'm so sorry, baby!" Lindsay whined, her hands now on Trish's shoulders. "OH GOD, I'M SO SORRY!" Lindsay lowered her gaze, then lost it. She just lost it. She fell over onto her side and clutched at her chest in both physical and mental discomfort. She could not handle this right now.

I quickly glanced at all of the other ladies in the room as well. Obviously, they had learned of this horrific news when Trish did. Amy was a total wreck and clutching at her six month baby bump as if she was in dire, extreme pain. Kristanna was trying to console and comfort her, but it was obvious that in addition to Trish and her feelings of suddenly losing her father, Kristanna was gravely concerned for Amy and our unborn child.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 03



"I'm going to call the life squad for Amy," Kristanna cried, passing her off to Scarlett and then using Trish's telephone to dial emergency services.

"I m-miss my dad already!" Trish sobbed. "He just texted me two days ago, and s-s-s-said he wanted to re-re-re-remind me, of how much he l-l-l-l-loves me! He wa-wa-was l-looking forward to c-coming here on v-vacation in September..."

Trish was my wife, and I loved her. I could not fight it, nor did I want to - I was crying as well. The dam had burst. But Trish needed help. She needed support in the worst way possible. But what about Amy, and our baby? Could Amy become so upset and emotionally ruined at the news of John's sudden and tragic death that she could actually lose our baby?

Who should I be with first? Who needed my first hug? Was it my wife Trish, who just lost her father? Or was it my wife Amy, who was so upset that Kristanna clearly sensed she may have a miscarriage unless medical help arrived quickly? Trish loved her father so much, while finally becoming pregnant and carrying this baby was the greatest thing that ever happened to Amy. What should I do? Who should I go to first?

Unable to handle any of this at the current moment myself, I simply fell down to my knees in a weak, listless heap...

End of Chapter 3



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 04



-------

Chapter 4: Condolences

Trish's father, John, was involved in a gruesome, four-car automobile accident on Thursday, May 21, 2015 while driving home from his real estate job just outside of Toronto, and later died at the hospital as a result of the injuries. His sudden and tragic passing sent shock waves from Canada all the way across the world to Norway (the horrific event actually happened here Friday morning because of different time zones), where Trish was devastated upon hearing the news, as was everyone else in our little, tight-knit family.

Before I go any further, perhaps I should speak about Amy and our unborn daughter she had so proudly carried around for the past six months. Amy became terribly upset and agitated upon hearing the news of John's death that she clutched her baby bump in dire pain and nearly toppled over because of the negative emotions swirling throughout her. Their relationship may have started out a bit rocky two years ago, but Amy had become incredibly close with Trish over the past 18 months. The accident Trish's father was a victim of basically tore Amy to shreds, and put our baby in danger.

But a quick-thinking Kristanna called for an ambulance almost immediately upon seeing Amy in her condition. A registered nurse who dealt with pregnant women on a daily basis, Scarlett used her expertise and whatever makeshift items she had available here in our mansion to tend to and look after Amy until help arrived. Trish demanded that I go in the ambulance and be with Amy; Amy and the baby, she insisted, took far more precedence than her own grief.

Amy kept telling the paramedics that she was so upset because she had just received word that she had lost her very own father, who lived in the United States. I was thrown for a loop hearing this, of course, but Amy later explained to me that she did not want to tell the emergency personnel that it was actually Trish's father. "They do not need to know that Trish and I are engaged, or anything else specific about our family. It's none of their business."

In any event, Amy was rushed to the local hospital and taken into the emergency room right away. They put her on I-V fluids and gave her a sedative that would hopefully quell her emotions and anxiety, and get her to settle down. But the best immediate therapy, the attending doctor told me, was for me to continue to hold Amy's hand, reassure and kiss her, and do everything in my power to help get her (and our unborn child) through this horrible ordeal.

They ran a battery of tests on Amy because she had felt discomfort where the baby was. They found a very high level of a chemical called corticotropin-releasing hormone (or CRH) in her bloodstream. The doctor explained that this was one of the many chemicals that the brain releases during intense moments of stress. Excessive amounts of CRH, he told us, could attack the mast cells in the uterus of a pregnant woman, and wreak havoc on it and the baby, and cause a miscarriage.

"Mast cells in the uterus are similar to a basketball that is full of 100 ping-pong balls, and each ping-pong ball has about 30 marbles. If disturbed, these cells may explode like a grenade to trigger a chain reaction by releasing all those balls of histamine and many other, various chemicals."

"Tryptase, one of many chemicals released by the damaged mast cell, destroys tissue and prevents the production of membranes to develop and nurture the uterus, and disrupts the whole architecture of the placenta that feeds the baby. When this happens, a miscarriage may occur."

"We have ways of temporarily blocking the action of CRH on mast cells, however," the doctor informed us, and I felt as if a massive weight had just been lifted from my shoulders. Amy began to cry tears of joy - obviously thinking our daughter may be saved because of this - as the physician explained, "We are going to give you a vaginal suppository full of drugs that will block the CRH receptors completely."

The doctor told Amy that he understood that she was upset at the loss of her father, but she had to think about herself and the health of her baby, and really settle down. He gave her a strong tranquilizer after administering the suppository, and she was admitted to the hospital and placed in a standard room. After that, the medicine began to make her feel extremely tired, and she fell asleep.

Well, take my word for it - it certainly is no fun to sit idly by in a hospital room while your six-month pregnant wife is propped up in bed with various wires and devices attached to different parts of her body, three I-V bags dangling above her head, and a sick, disturbed complexion upon her face as she slept away. Oh, and the wellness of your unborn child is in question. I felt absolutely powerless to do anything...

I had been speaking with Kristanna on the telephone throughout the entire morning, as well as texting her, giving her updates on Amy's condition that she quickly relayed to the other ladies. They were all gravely worried for her, but we stuck to our predetermined plan in the event of an emergency like this. There was no need for everyone to be here and possibly overwhelm Amy all at once, and make things worse. Amy had four wives, one fiancee and one girlfriend out of the group. She also had a husband, obviously. But our steadfast rule - unless it was an extreme situation - was that no more than three people could visit at a time in the case of a hospitalization like this.

We did not want others - be it hospital personnel or just regular visitors - to become overly suspicious of us and our situation. That could very well happen if seven people were fawning over Amy simultaneously for extended periods of time. We were not looking to broadcast our family structure to the general public at all. Again, it was one of the very few drawbacks of our relationship.

When I heard a noise from behind me, I naturally assumed it was the nurse. But when I turned, I hopped up and immediately rushed over to Trish and hugged her fiercely. She, along with Lindsay, were the first visitors of the day. In the mass hysteria earlier, I did not even get to talk to Trish and offer her my condolences on the passing of her father.

Trish and I shared a deep and emotional, heartfelt embrace that lasted a good 45 seconds, but then her focus shifted to Amy. Trish, along with Lindsay, went to Amy's bedside and, although she was still sleeping, each of them grasped a hand and gently kissed her forehead and cheek.

They asked me how Amy was doing and if there had been any update on her condition. Sure enough, Amy drifted out of her sleep and offered a shocked double-take once she realized that Trish was in the room with her. The two hugged, and Trish pleaded with Amy to stay calm and not concern herself with the grief she was experiencing. "Your health, and the health of your baby, is far more important to me than the grief I am currently going through."

After more chatter, Lindsay suggested that I take Trish to the hospital cafeteria and get an early lunch with her. "I will stay with Amy and keep her company," she told us. Lindsay was pretty adamant that I step outside with Trish, but did her best not to obvious about it in front of Amy.

Once we exited the hospital room and got into the elevator to go to the cafeteria, Trish immediately broke down and tossed her arms around me in a wild, needful embrace. Safely away from Amy, and without fear of upsetting her, Trish made mention of her father and openly wept and sobbed even after the elevator door had opened, and others saw us. I quickly took Trish into a little alcove in the side hallway, away from the primary foot traffic, and let her have her cry.

The poor woman had lost her father just hours ago in an automobile accident. I had no idea whether or not she put any sort of blame on herself as to Amy being in the hospital right now. Knowing Trish, though, she probably did. If Amy lost her baby, Trish may ultimately blame herself for it. There was no way that could happen. Was there?

But what about me?

I was supposed to be the head of our family. Everyone, whenever there was a problem or issue, ultimately seemed to look toward me for guidance and answers. Usually, I had them. I had a cool, calm nature, and liked to think that I made good and informed decisions that were in the best interest of our family and its long-term stability and growth.

But I felt so incredibly powerless right now. I felt sick myself; hurt, confused ... one wife had just lost her father, while another was in the hospital with our baby in danger. Could I do anything to help either of them? My spirit was wobbly and, quite frankly, my soul was broken.

-------

The hospital staff kept a very close eye on Amy, as well as our child, throughout the afternoon and into the evening and overnight hours. They gave her another suppository around 8:00pm and kept her subdued and tired - and most importantly, relaxed - with various other medications.

After Trish and Lindsay left, Kristanna and Devon showed up five minutes later and brought along bushels of flowers, balloons and teddy bears to help enliven Amy's spirits. After their departure, in trotted Pamela and Scarlett, who had been called into work earlier at the big hospital in Oslo. It seemed as if they were all in the parking lot, waiting for each little sub-group to leave.

"I told work I couldn't come in," Scarlett informed me. "Family comes first, you know."

The doctor was back the following morning with the best of news - our daughter was safe, it seemed, and Amy could even go home in a couple of hours! He spoke to her at length about controlling her emotions while attending the funeral of her father. That verbiage did not seem right to me at all! How could Amy have told him that?

In any event, the doctor prescribed some sedatives for Amy that would tide her through the next couple of days. He also gave her three more suppository pills - one to be taken the morning of the funeral, one the night of, and the final the following morning. Scarlett quickly volunteered herself as the one to administer them to her.

It was okay for Amy to grieve and let her feelings out at the funeral, the physician said. But if Amy felt any pain or discomfort in her abdomen at any given time during this whole process, the good doctor insisted that she was to go straight to the emergency room.

It was at this time that I informed the doctor that the funeral would actually take place nearly 4,000 miles away in Canada. I asked him if it would safe for Amy to fly, perhaps as early as tomorrow. He said that would be perfectly fine.

Once we arrived home from the hospital three hours later, several of the ladies took it upon themselves to look after Amy and tend to her every whim. This allowed me to hook up with Trish, and ultimately her family in Canada, and find out the dates and times of the visitation and then the funeral itself, and what could get us clear across the Atlantic Ocean as soon as possible.

Today was Saturday, and John's funeral was scheduled a mere three days from now on Tuesday in Trish's original hometown of [City Name], Ontario. The quick turn-around presented several challenges and hurdles for our family, but I felt it was nothing that we could not pull through.

I let go of our previous private flight crew who had piloted our family jetliner, an Airbus A319 ACJ, last month and just recently hired a new one. I got into contact with the captain of the crew (Mike), a retired US Air Force pilot based out of Oslo, who bravely served and protected his country during the Gulf War. Mike assured me that the other three members of the crew - his wife (Carolyn), her sister (Barbara (these being the two stewardesses)) and Mike's best friend and former running mate in the Air Force (co-pilot Craig) would have no issues escorting us to Canada on Sunday morning. With such short notice (less than 24 hours!) and as a show of my extreme appreciation, I told Mike that I would pay him and his crew triple their standard fee.

Kristanna's parents - Kristof and Rande - quickly stepped up and volunteered to watch the two infant children, Kaden and Piper, for the duration of our trip if we wanted them to. Kristof and Rande were very close with all of us, of course, and took care of both Kaden and Piper last December when our entourage traveled to Ohio for an entire week to first prepare for, then attend Trish and Lindsay's wedding. They lived on the opposite end of this sprawling, 300-acre farm.

Kaden (10 months) and Piper (6 months) were old enough, and more than developed enough, to travel on a long, transoceanic flight from Norway to Canada. Kristanna and Pamela, their respective mothers, decided to bring both of them on the trip instead of leaving them behind in Norway. Still, they thanked Kristof and Rande for the offer.

Scarlett requested two weeks of compassionate leave (Norway's term for bereavement) from her employer, and was granted it. That was very surprising to me, until Scarlett told me that she informed her superiors, "my fiance's father died." I kind of threw my hands up and became exasperated upon hearing that, simply because I was her only fiance, and I did not like to think of my own father - who lived in California - as being deceased. Scarlett kind of shrugged her shoulders, though, and retorted, "Amy will be my fiancee soon enough, you know." I still did not approve...

We spent the majority of Saturday night packing suitcases and making any last minute arrangements and telephone calls in preparation for our trip. Amy was in much better spirits, both physically and emotionally, and well over the initial shock of the news concerning Trish's father and his passing. Regardless, we were going to watch after her intently.

The private flight crew was excellent as advertised; they loaded our luggage and made sure the interior of the plane was as comfortable and as well prepared as could be. I was the last to board the jetliner, and found Kristanna sitting near the front, having a nice and pleasant conversation with the pilot, Mike. Kristanna had the unique ability to talk to anyone and make them feel within mere minutes that they had re-connected with an old, long-lost friend. Kristanna was smiling and jovial, and had Mike laughing up a storm. That woman and her personality was just so ... infectious.

The crew kept us hydrated and well-fed, and did their utmost to ensure that everyone had an enjoyable trip from Oslo to Pearson International Airport in the heart of downtown Toronto. It was a straight, one-way flight.

We departed Norway at 9:05am, and touched down safe and sound in Canada at 11:17am. Keep in mind, there was a six hour time difference, so the flight itself actually took a total of eight hours.

Kaden and Piper seemed to be perfectly fine. They napped for a good portion of the trip, and we kept them engaged and entertained when they were actually awake. There was no apparent issues with either of them (thank God). The doctor assured us Saturday evening that they should be fine.

Best of all, Amy was relaxed and reported no discomfort at all. She slept for a long stretch of the flight on the big waterbed in the primary bedroom (private, customized aircrafts such as mine have these high-end luxuries). I actually found leisure in playing video games with Lindsay.

We rented two vehicles at the airport - a pair of Jeep Grand Cherokees - and went straight to [City Name]. Trish drove one of the vehicles, with Devon, Lindsay and Scarlett with her, while I followed along close behind with Kristanna, Pamela and Amy included (and the babies). The drive was short; only about 17 miles, and took less than 30 minutes in the busy and hectic weekend traffic.

My heart sank within my chest and I fought the urge to break down and cry as Trish had a tearful reunion with her mother, Alice, and her two sisters, Christie and Melissa. The family was just in absolute shambles because their pillar and rock, John, had been ripped away from them so suddenly, and without warning. Very simply, it was not fair! Kristanna and Scarlett promised to both keep a close watch on Amy over the next few days. Amy certainly could not be allowed to become too frantic or upset.

I stayed at the family home for four hours and caught up with Alice, Christie and Melissa (I had not seen them since a trip here back in December). I listened to them share memories and funny stories about John, but knew that I needed to check into our hotel and get everything situated and squared away with it.

Scarlett volunteered to go back to downtown Toronto with me so I would not have to do it alone. We went to our regular hotel for whenever we stayed here, the Ritz-Carlton Toronto. As luck would have it, their most expensive and luxurious suite was available, and we quickly reserved it even before leaving Norway. We were able to check-in, and have all of our luggage taken to the $6,000-a-night room.

Located on the 19th floor of this 53 story structure, the suite was prosperity at its finest. But what I enjoyed most about the Ritz-Carlton Toronto was that many of its staff, including the manager himself, remembered us immediately from our prior visit five months ago (and the visits before it, too). The manager was very professional and friendly, and asked if the whole contingent (the ladies) would eventually be joining us as well. I told him all of them were here.

The manager made a nice comment about "our Toronto girl", then immediately instructed two hotel employees to "find all the Kool-Aid packs you can, because she loves it with a passion." Little touches like that meant a lot to me. Kool-Aid was Trish's favorite drink - bar none - and the manager of this multi-billion dollar hotel himself actually remembered that from our prior visits. That was what I call five-star customer service at its finest.

Of course, I was not naive enough to think that he could possibly remember every guest who ever walked through the doors of his hotel. I was a big spender, no doubt, and not afraid to purchase anything. Money was of no object to me. I had spent quite lavishly here in the past, and he knew that. Our continued business and patronage was very important to the hotel manager. I left him a personal $1,000 tip last time; it only stands to reason that he, of course, would remember us, and little, seemingly minor details about us (Trish's Kool-Aid, for example).

Still, I had always been impressed with him, and the level of service we received while staying here. That was why I gave him the massive tip last time to begin with.

I also asked him to make sure that my flight crew - Mike, Craig, Carolyn and Barbara - were well taken of as well. I had rented a pair of high-cost suites for them, too.

Scarlett was feeling a bit bummed out from the long airline flight, so I promptly took her up to our room and insisted that she kick back, and relax. I drew a hot bubble bath and helped her into it, and even gave her a scrub-down that had its fair share of playful moments. But at the same time, however, I knew that I had to get back to Trish and her family in their hometown of [City Name].

I told Scarlett to continue with her bubble bath and take a nap if she so desired; I was going to leave her for now, but would be back later with everyone else in tow. I also instructed Scarlett to order any item from room service that she wanted and, of course, I was just a telephone call away if anything else popped up. Scarlett wanted to go back and be with Trish as well, but she began to feel worse than before, and staying here in the hotel to rest was her best option.

I returned to the humble and quaint [Last Name] family home by myself just in time for dinner at 6:00pm. I could tell that a tremendous amount of tears had been shed in my absence. Kristanna later explained that everyone spent a good part of the afternoon watching old home movies of John and Alice, and their three daughters including Trish, and going through just about every photo album they had. Amy, though, had managed to stay on a pretty even keel.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 04



Lindsay was still horribly overwrought with pain and frustration over the passing of her beloved wife's father. Even though it happened two-and-a-half years ago, the subject of Lindsay's own father - and his untimely death due to a massive coronary - was still an incredibly sensitive subject for her. There was not a single day that went by where Lindsay did not mention her father and how much she missed him. Lindsay always spoke with sheer reverence about him; he had always been her hero and idol. It still made her cry - although it happened back in November 2012 - that he was gone.

So, the news of this latest tragedy really, truly hit home for Lindsay. It struck a definite nerve within her. Trish, of course, was even worse. She was still in shock, and had already gone through extreme bouts of depression and anger just over the past two days alone. The automobile accident was not caused by her father; John was not at fault, but he paid the ultimate price as a result of it regardless. Obviously, there was a lot of anger expressed over that.

Dinner was fairly mundane and uneventful. Alice ordered Chinese food, but we ate in a mostly somber silence. By the time it was 8:00pm, Kaden and Piper were starting to get really cranky and irritable. With it being 2:00am back home in Norway, most of us were not used to staying up this late. Add in the long and taxing airline flight, and many of us were just flat-out exhausted. We all decided to retire for the evening, and went back to the Ritz-Carlton hotel.

Fortunately, Scarlett was feeling better after her bubble bath and a subsequent two hour nap. She greeted us at the door, and shared an extra long, special hug with Trish, who was still visibly shaken and distraught with everything. She also checked in with Amy, and spoke with her at length.

I took a three-way shower with Kristanna and Devon, but there were really no sexual overtones or innuendo involved in it whatsoever. We helped each other clean and wash up, but neither of them were in their usual, vibrant moods. I am certain the same could be said for Pamela, Trish, Lindsay and Amy as they took a quadruple shower after us; there was almost assuredly nothing sexual about their time in it.

There were two king-sized beds, both of them in different rooms of the 2,400 square foot suite, and a pull-out sofa in the den. I opted for one room with Pamela and Amy, while Kristanna, Devon and Scarlett claimed the other. That left the sofa bed to Trish and Lindsay, who did not mind one bit.

I tried to fall asleep afterward, but found it damn near impossible. Oh, it was not because I had two impeccable beauties nestled up close to me in Pamela and Amy. Rather, it was because my own stomach was now in painful knots, and I felt sick inside. I was simply thinking about Trish, while still worrying about Amy at the same time.

At 2:00am, I still had yet to fall asleep. I decided to get out of bed and snack on something in the kitchen. I felt even more hollow inside as when I went out to the main room, I heard Trish sobbing. Lindsay was sleeping away rather peacefully next to her, but Trish was definitely crying - albeit gently, and not wanting to cause a fuss.

"Hey," I whispered, rushing to her side. Trish turned and looked up at me; all I could see was her silhouette in the darkness. I latched onto her arm and again spoke in a hushed tone, "Trish, my God!" Tears began to form within my eyes as I pleaded, "Tell me what I can do to help you..."

"Jeremy..." Trish whined in response, tenderly wrapping her arms around me. She obviously did not want to wake or rouse Lindsay in the slightest. "Jeremy, I ... I feel so ... bad."

"You gotta get some sleep," I urged her. I held her even closer, but soon began to fear that her crying, which was suddenly becoming louder, would wake Lindsay. Or even Amy. So, I swept Trish up into my arms - as if she was a small child - and carried her off to the kitchen. Still in the darkness, I propped Trish across the counter and literally smashed her face into my chest, and then she began to wail and sob much more profusely than before.

"Just let it all out," were my words, hoping that the others were safely out of earshot. After all, doing so was probably the best - if maybe the only - therapy for her. Trish needed to let all of her emotions pour out.

-------

I was exhausted beyond any and all reason, but I still found myself in the posh, exclusive lounge of the hotel an hour later at 3:00am. I had convinced Trish to leave the suite and take a walk with me throughout the hotel. In our travels, where I held and kissed Trish's hand repeatedly, and listened to her speak her mind, we came across the most comfortable sofa in the VIP lounge, which was mostly deserted. It was good for Trish, I thought, to get out for a bit. She needed to stretch her legs, so to speak, and clear her mind.

"Mom told me earlier that Dad was so very proud of me," Trish sighed, seated across from me upon the plush sofa. Her long-flowing, healthy brown hair was a catastrophe, and she wore baggy sweat pants and an old, raggedy t-shirt. But Trish still looked beautiful to me. She always did.

"Mom said Dad was very proud last year when we actually went through with the wedding - Lindsay and I - and got married in a regular church, with hundreds of people in attendance," Trish added. "Everything about my marriage to Lindsay was normal and typical, and standard ... except for the simple fact that we were two women, not a man and woman."

"We did not hide anything about our wedding, or our love for each other. It was not a private, little ceremony. Mom said Dad was SO PROUD of me because of that. I had the courage and the will, he thought, the wherewithal, the GUTS, to do something different, and marry another woman despite what some certain other people thought of it."

"Dad knew that I was in love with Lindsay, and she meant the world to me," Trish mewed. "She still does. He was so happy, Mom said, that I followed my heart, and did not back down from what I wanted. Him and Mom have never quite understood my attraction for women. Neither have my two sisters, Christie and Melissa. None of them, though, ever judged me for it. They have always been very supportive."

I offered a faint smile. "Your parents have always known that about you, right?"

"Since high school, yes," Trish nodded. "I had a lot of different thoughts and ideas back then going through my mind. I just remember one day, it was a weekend, I went into the living room and saw both Mom and Dad watching television. I think I must have been 15 years old, maybe 16, at the time. I asked if I could talk with them for a bit. They said yes. I said I was confused. I said, I don't know, but I think I might be a lesbian. That's how they found out."

"What did they say?"

Trish shrugged her shoulders. "What could they say? That was probably the absolute, last thing either of my parents expected I would ever say to them. We talked for a long time about it. They were supportive. They were always supportive of me. My Dad said, Trish, I want you to do whatever makes you happy. I want you to be with whomever makes you happy, be it a guy, or a girl. You have my support, 100 percent."

"As it turned out, obviously, I am bisexual. I learned that I had an equal attraction for both men and women. I eventually chose to ignore a person's gender. It had no say or relevance into whether or not I was attracted to someone."

"When I first to the island and met you, Jeremy, and all of the other girls, I called my parents that first week and told them that I WAS IN LOVE. I had found the person of my dreams, and it was Lindsay - it was another girl. I told Mom and Dad that I was going to marry her one day, and we would live happily ever after. I laid out everything for them - my whole grand scheme. Mom and Dad were so happy."

"Of course, little did I know that I would go through all those problems with Lindsay, and we would not even talk to each other for an entire month. I did not understand why Lindsay was not interested in me at the time. I called Mom and Dad every day, and EVERY DAY, I whined and complained to them about Lindsay. I did not understand why we weren't together. Mom and Dad knew how much I loved her."

Trish actually cracked a smile, though it was a small one. "Then, all of a sudden, I am back with Lindsay, and everything in the world is right. Mom and Dad were overjoyed. Do you remember the first time they met Lindsay, Jeremy? Mom asked Lindsay when was she was FINALLY going to marry me." Trish stifled a giggle (hey, it was progress) and added, "I was SO mad at Mom for that! But we laughed about it afterward."

"Anyway, Mom told me earlier that Dad was so proud of me," she reiterated. "He said I was strong and courageous, and he was overjoyed that Lindsay and I got married in a big, lavish wedding and thus, we did not hide our love for each other from no one." Trish glanced downward, trying to hide the surge of hurt suddenly flashing across her face. "In fact, Mom said Dad had never been more proud of me ... than he was on the day Lindsay and I ... got married. Never more pr-proud of m-me..."

"They still do not quite understand our marriage now, though, and the whole group dynamic?" I inquired.

"No, and they probably never will," Trish frowned. "Talking my mom and my two sisters now, I suppose. They know you are a good man, Jeremy, and that you love and care for me. So did Dad. My whole family would be perfectly fine with Lindsay as my wife, and you as my husband. It would be different, yes, but they would be perfectly fine with it."

"It's just when you start throwing the other girls into the mix - like a Kristanna, like a Pamela and the others - that's when it becomes confusing to them. It is difficult for my family to comprehend me being in a relationship with six other women and one man."

"But you know what?" Trish added. "My dad always asked me if I was happy. He would call me on the telephone and ask if I am happy. He did not understand our relationship, but because I was happy, he supported it. Mom, Christie and Melissa all took his cue." Trish frowned again. "He was a wonderful father; the best father in the world. And ... I ... I'm going to miss h-him. Dad was ... he was my best friend."

Trish suddenly began to cry. "I t-told him not too l-long ago, th-th-that I planned on delivering a li-little grandson, or granddaughter, for him soon. I ... I can't be-be-believe ... he wo-won't be around, when the time c-c-comes."

Again, I brought Trish into my arms and lovingly held and caressed her. There was really nothing for me to say in response to that. I had always known that Trish dreamed of being a parent one day, and looked forward to the idea of her own mother and father being involved in some fashion with the childbirth. I actually began to feel guilty that I had not already made that dream a reality for Trish, and that John would never get the opportunity to meet her children.

I was going to keep blaming myself for everything, it seemed, and fall deeper and deeper into the abyss. Perhaps one day, the hole would be so deep that I may never get out.

Exasperated, I settled upon the sofa, and felt my eyelids starting to get really heavy. They were slowly closing, and I could not fight it. My last memory of the late evening was Trish sobbing oh-so-gently, but I had the feeling that she was about to pass out at any given moment - like I just did...

-------

"Mr. and Mrs. [Last Name]," I heard next, a man's voice bringing me out of a peaceful slumber. I opened my eyes and saw the hotel manager - the same gentleman who I found to be so very attentive and thoughtful - standing over me, with a concierge employee next to him. Startled and temporarily unsure of my surroundings (or even where I was), I jerked about upon the sofa, and then realized that Trish was all nice and snuggled within my arms.

"I apologize, sir," the manager said, "but it is five in the morning, and the breakfast crowd will be coming in soon. I imagine you do not want to be sleeping amongst a sea of strangers who are enjoying their breakfast meals?"

"No..." I told him, trying to clear the mental cobwebs.

"Jeremy?" I heard Trish moan, as she began to rustle about. "Where's Lindsay?" she asked involuntarily - without even a thought - before realizing that we had company with us. "Oh," Trish murmured, looking up at them groggily. "Hi?"

"Good morning, ma'am," the manager smiled back at her.

"It's been a rough 24 or 36 hours," I told him, and the other employee. "Maybe 48 ... I'm not quite sure anymore. My wife lost her father, he died on ... Friday. No ... that was Norway time ... it was Thur ... Thursday here. We flew 4,000 miles to get here, and she was so upset overnight, I ... I took her out for a walk, and we stopped here. We ... we must have dozed off here ... on the sofa, overnight. I am sorry if it caused any issues."

"It's not a problem at all, sir, and my sincerest and deepest apologies for the loss of your father, ma'am," he told us. "I lost my father five years ago; it is not easy. I just thought you may prefer to sleep in your room is all."

"That's ... a good idea," I sighed.

He motioned toward the hotel clerk, who promptly handed me my tablet. "That was on the floor next to you, sir. I suggest you check the sofa cushions in case you dropped anything else. Please make sure nothing is missing before you go back to your room. If either of us could be of any further assistance to you, please, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you."

He smiled at Trish. "Did we have enough Kool-Aid packages delivered to your suite, Mrs. [Last Name]?"

"More than enough," Trish smirked in response.

-------

Fortunately, all of the other ladies were still fast asleep (as were Kaden and Piper) when Trish and I returned to the hotel suite a few moments later. I had left them a note indicating that Trish and I were stepping out for a bit, but would be back later. As it turned out, the note was not necessary. I crumpled it up and tossed it into the trash.

I gave Trish a hug and a kiss, and she promptly slinked back onto the pull-out sofa bed and cuddled with her precious Lindsay. If there was only one place that Trish would find solace and comfort, I knew that it would be in Lindsay's arms.

Then, I went back to the side room, and crawled into bed with the lovely duo of Pamela and Amy. I splayed a series of loving kisses upon Amy's baby bump, and made her giggle in the process even as she continued to sleep. A mere three minutes later, I was out like a light again. It was time for me to finally get some much-needed rest.

-------

"Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man," Lindsay sang to Kaden several hours later in a soft, loving tone, as they sat across from each other upon the pull-out sofa bed and bopped hands in unison. "Bake me a cake as fast as you can."

It was just past noon here at the hotel. I was relaxing in the adjacent chair while Kristanna leaned against the wall, sipping a cup of coffee, both of us watching (and admiring) Lindsay as she sang nursery rhymes to our little son in order to keep him engaged, and happy. Lindsay, like Trish, was going to be an excellent mother one day.

"Roll it, pat it, mark it with a B," Lindsay continued in verse. "Put it in the oven for baby and me!"

Kaden was squealing and full of absolute delight. He was always so happy whenever Lindsay played with him. The past two days had obviously been quite somber for our group, but Lindsay made up her mind earlier this morning that she did not want those negative thoughts and emotions to spill over and effect Kaden and/or Piper any more than they already had. We still had the funeral to attend, obviously, and it would be difficult. Outside of the extreme moments, however, Lindsay was intent on seeing that the two infants saw nothing but positive energy and emotions.

"Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O," Lindsay chirped, starting a new song. "And on that farm he had some chickens, E-I-E-I-O. With a bawk, bawk here, and a bawk, bawk there, here a bawk, there a bawk, everywhere a bawk, bawk, Old MacDonald had a farm ... E-I-E-I-O."

"I think we're all ready to go," Trish announced as she stepped into the den, Devon and Scarlett close behind her. "The visitation starts in three hours; I want to be early."

"Where is Pamela and Amy?" Kristanna wondered.

"They are finishing changing Piper as we speak," Devon said. "Should be out here with us any second."

"There's my little princess!" Kristanna swooned seconds later as indeed, Pamela appeared with Piper cradled in her arms. Kristanna reached out and tickled Piper's cheek with a single fingertip. "Hi there, honey! Hi!" Smiling, Amy appeared from behind Pamela and immediately hugged Trish.

The next 36 hours were a real trial for me. For us.

I am a very protective person - always have been - and am not afraid to go to whatever lengths are necessary to ease the pain or any anxiety of a loved one, or put an end to it altogether. That statement multiples ten-fold when any of my six precious wives, or Scarlett, are involved. I would do anything I could to protect them, and shield them from any and all harm. Even if it meant sacrificing my own life.

Yet again, I felt powerless; unable to help Trish and make her feel any better and in more comfort. We spent five hours at what was a three hour visitation at the funeral home for her father - arriving an hour early, and leaving an hour late. Hundreds of people, friends and family alike, stopped by to offer their well wishes and words of condolence for the family. Not only was Trish there with her mother and sisters, but her grandparents - John's parents themselves - were both in attendance as well. There were lots of tears and even some happy smiles, but they centered upon memories of John, and not the actual occasion itself.

Kristanna, who always seemed to have a finger on my inner pulse, could easily sense my frustration. She knew that I wanted to take Trish's pain away, but it was impossible for me to do so. Kristanna was the one who actually encouraged me; she told me to stay the course, and lend Trish whatever support and love I could. Kristanna would do the same. She was also well aware that I was still worried about Amy.

I treated the entire group - the girls (and babies), as well as Trish's family including her grandparents - to dinner at Turtle Jack's afterward, a fancy restaurant just outside of Toronto that both Christie and Melissa suggested. Trish said she enjoyed the food there as well, but obviously had not been there in a couple of years.

The menu was huge, but I personally opted for the nacho extravaganza. Crisp tortillas topped with cheddar and mozzarella cheese, then oven baked and sprinkled with shredded lettuce, pico de gallo, fresh sliced jalapenos, green onions and salsa, and finally doused in sour cream, the meal was just as delicious as it sounds. I had barley soup on the side along with a caesar salad, and shared a big plate of flash-fried tiger shrimp as an appetizer with the others.

But the next morning, I felt even more sick and useless inside. There are simply no words that can describe what it feels like to wake up on the morning of a funeral, especially when it is for your wife's father, and you know they will be putting him to rest for the final time.

We all woke up early and got ready. Everyone was dressed for the occasion; many of the girls chose business jackets and slacks, while Kristanna and Scarlett opted for dark, full-length dresses that seemed to befit a funeral. Normally I would gush and go on here about how insanely beautiful all of them looked in such formal attire, but I honestly did not even notice. My mind was way too preoccupied.

On a side note, unlike at the hospital, Amy did not take well to receiving her vaginal suppository. Scarlett had obviously done this sort of thing before, so I trusted that she inserted it correctly. Still, Amy whined and complained for a bit, but eventually was able to settle down.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 04



We were back at the funeral home at 9:00am. The service was not going to begin until 11:00am. Trish and her loved ones stood at the entrance for the most part, and greeted nearly everyone who showed up with kind words and hugs. The whole place was decorated with flowers and photographs. I go back to the thoughtful manager of the Ritz-Carlton; even he sent a massive, lovely bouquet, on behalf of the hotel and its staff. Oh, he would be getting another tip...

Reverend Clyde oversaw the ceremony itself; he gave a touching, emotional speech about the cycle of life and death that left nearly everyone in tears. In the middle of his presentation, though, Reverend Clyde volunteered to step to the side because " ... Patricia, John's beloved daughter, has a poem that she would like to share with all of you."

Unaware that this would happen, I watched Trish as she strolled up to the podium with a piece of paper in hand. It took her a moment or two to calm down and collect herself. Once doing so, however, Trish shared a few brief memories about her father, but then said, "I have a poem I wrote late last night, and I want to read it off to all of you."

"Dear Dad,

We love you,

We miss you so much.

Your love and your kindness,

Your soft gentle touch."

"If we had to live life over,

We would choose you once more.

If it meant losing you again,

It's worth all the tears in the world."

"While our hearts are now filled,

With sadness and tears.

We have many good memories,

You will always be near."

"The day you were taken from us,

Tears fell from the sky.

Our hearts filled with sorrow,

Your final goodbye."

"Thank you for everything,

But a white butterfly came your way.

Your soul is at peace,

And not far away."

"Your body has died,

But your spirit lives strong.

In each one of us,

Where it forever belongs."

"Your time here was short,

We wish you could stay.

But they need you upstairs,

The angels called you their way."

"Spread your wings and fly,

Up to Heaven you go.

You will not have the chance to suffer,

Down on Earth here below."

"They won't hear you coming,

So softly you walk.

When you get up to Heaven,

Make sure that you knock."

"You can play tennis all you want,

Through the woods you can bike.

Drive where ever you please,

Up the mountain you may hike."

"In the breeze we hear your whisper,

Feel your warmth from the sun.

Upon the lake we see your reflection,

In the stream we see you run."

"Until the day comes,

That we cross over too.

Our family will not be complete,

Until we meet that day with you."

"I love you, Daddy..."

Trish was somehow able to maintain her composure throughout that entire reading, but broke down at the podium and began sobbing the very instant it was finished. Christie and Melissa rushed to her side and the three sisters shared a deep-rooted, emotional embrace. Seated next to me, Lindsay had already lost complete and total control of her faculties. That poem sent her over the edge. She was a train wreck.

I glanced toward the back of the funeral room, where Amy was seated between Kristanna and Scarlett. All three of them were crying as well, but I felt a sudden, undeniable sense of ease as it pertained to Amy. I did not feel the urge to rush back there and ask if she was okay, or if she felt any pain in her abdomen. Amy had Kristanna and Scarlett watching over her, monitoring her, making sure she was stable and safe. For the past several days, those two were her guardian angels. Could there be anyone better for the job than either of them?

After the ceremony was complete, I got into the rental vehicle with Trish and Lindsay, and followed the procession line to the grave site some 15 miles away. The quintet of Kristanna, Devon, Pamela, Amy and Scarlett, as well as Kaden and Piper, were somewhere far back toward the end of the line, in the other rental. They were fine with that.

Perhaps the most emotional and heartbreaking moment of the entire day - and the whole process - was watching John's closed casket being lowered into the ground by a special machine. There was some debate beforehand about whether or not this should happen in front of everyone, but it was ultimately decided that bearing witness to the lowering of the casket would bring with it ultimate, final closure.

-------

There was a gathering afterward at the [Last Name] family home where, thanks to the culinary efforts of Kristanna and Devon, everyone present was treated to a marvelous dinner. I found great peace in playing with Jacob and Cindy, Christie's 7-year-old son and 4-year-old daughter, respectively, out at the swing sets and slide. I was able to take my suit jacket off and untuck my shirt, and simply have fun. I knew that in no time flat, that would be Kaden, Piper and yes, even sweet Dani Grace, squealing and asking me to push them on the swing set - as well as any future children of ours.

"Higher Daddy, push me HIGHER!" I envisioned a 4-year-old Dani Grace pleading with me as she swung back-and-forth on the swing set, with the occasional nudge in the back from me, while her mother, Amy, looked on and smiled. The mere thought, as you may imagine, definitely warmed my heart.

Reverend Clyde did a magnificent job conducting the ceremony at the funeral home. One thing he said during it really stood out to me, however, and struck a deep nerve.

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, yet love leaves a memory no one can steal."

It was a touching comment, indeed, and one I would surely never forget. I could not agree with it more, either.

I should also point out that I was incredibly relieved that Amy made it through the funeral in one piece. Amy shed a bunch of tears, no doubt, but acted nothing like she did on the morning upon first learning of John's passing.

Amy rested comfortably on the sofa alongside Kristanna after dinner, and seemed lively and very talkative. It was at this point when I got the sense that any potential issues Amy had with her pregnancy were resolved. Everything was back on track, and Dani Grace would finally join our family (and make it all the more loving) in about three months.

Originally, our entourage was going to leave Toronto on Thursday afternoon and make our return to Norway Friday morning. However, with Scarlett not scheduled to return to work until Monday, June 8 (which was 13 days away), the ladies and I did some brainstorming the night before the funeral, and all of us mutually decided that it would be an excellent idea to pay a visit to the sheer pinnacle of opulence and tropical greenery - the island, off the coast of Lima, Peru, where all of us (except Scarlett) had once called home. Really now ... was there a better place in the whole, wide world for our specific group to heal jagged nerves and mend broken hearts?

The island and the mansion itself had been kept tidy and clean by some friends of mine - an older, married couple from Lima by the names of Harold and Juanita who I allowed to live there and watch after things for me. With our little group planning to vacation on the island through the first week of June, however, I offered Harold and Juanita an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii that would only conclude once we returned to Norway. Harold and Juanita happily accepted.

Of course, I would be remiss if I did not also mention Mike and his flight crew, two of which were his family members, and the other his best friend. I asked him if they would not mind flying us to Lima on Thursday, then taking us home to Norway at the end of the following week. He immediately told me that they would fly us wherever we wanted to go, and at whatever time. I tripled his regular payment again, and offered a free vacation to Hawaii for him and his crew as well.

The only catch, I told him, was that they had to take Harold and Juanita to Hawaii with them (and then return them to Lima) so the elderly couple would not have to go on a commercial flight. I wanted Harold and Juanita to be treated like true royalty on the airplane, I told Mike. He casually smiled at me and said, "I will not disappoint you, Mr. [Last Name]."

"Call me Jeremy."

Getting back to the matter at hand, though, it was up to our entire family to offer whatever long-term love and support we could to Trish as she cycled through the grieving process. Trish would especially need our strength during the holidays much later in the year, her parents' wedding anniversary and her father's birthday, which was coming up soon.

I had faith, though, that Trish would pull through all of this. She was too upbeat and too happy, too cheerful, of a person for even the passing of her father to destroy her vibrant spirit. Trish had already spoken with us about that; she knew that her father would want her to continue the amazing life that she leads. He would want her to be happy. He would not want her to dwell in sadness and despair.

I received my own personal pick-me-up, though, from Scarlett. Scarlett went all medical provider on me, suggesting that I not worry so much in that I did not have any specific answers for Trish, or an apparent way to ease her pain and suffering during these past several days.

"Just being there for Trish, Jeremy, and giving her someone to talk and vent to ... that gave her the ultimate comfort," Scarlett explained. "You allowed Trish to cry, scream and get angry - and you never showed any resistance, or told her to settle down. Those are normal feelings that need to be expressed for someone who is grieving."

"Trish may not realize it now, but she will look back in the future and realize that you supported her through a very difficult time," Scarlett added. "It does not matter, Jeremy, that you felt overwhelmed and awkward, and did not know what to say. You gave Trish a shoulder to cry on when she needed it most, and you did not judge or criticize."

"Trish will remember that, and it will draw her even closer to you," Scarlett theorized. "She will be even deeper in love with you as a result, and your personal relationship with her will be ten times stronger."

"No, do not worry or feel upset or powerless, Jeremy, because of what happened. You have no idea how much of a help you have been to Trish these past few days. Why? You gave her the best therapy she could possibly ever ask for."

"You gave her ... you."

>>



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 05



Chapter 5: Tremors

- Friday, May 29, 2015 -

- Somewhere magical, off the coast of Peru -

Following a 3,800 mile flight from Toronto, Ontario to Lima, Peru via our private jetliner just yesterday, the ladies and I (and the two infant babies) were then escorted 130 miles due west of the coast by helicopter to the wondrously beautiful and exotic island that I once called home for 16 years. This was our first time being back on the island - where many (but not all) of our relationships were built and fostered - since December 2013. None of us could believe that we had been away for quite that long of a time. For Scarlett, of course, this was her first time ever seeing the island. But for everyone else, being here once again brought back a lot of cherished memories.

Everything here had been kept nice and tidy in our absence thanks to Harold and Juanita, an elderly couple from Peru who were good friends of mine, and who volunteered to be live here and be caretakers of the island and its mansion while we were elsewhere. At the time when I originally anointed the island to them, I honestly had no idea whether or not I would ever see this magical place again.

Once our plane touched down in Oslo, I met up with Harold and Juanita in the airport and exchanged pleasantries, then sent them off with our personal flight crew for the family jetliner. All of them - Harold, Juanita and all four members of the flight crew - were being treated to an all-expenses paid vacation (courtesy of me, of course) to Hawaii while my family and I enjoyed our time on our private island.

The only real concern our group had, in regards to the long trip, was how Kaden and Piper would handle things. Would they make it through the flight happy and in good spirits as they had the jaunt from Oslo to Toronto? Keep in mind, their was our second (nearly) 4,000 mile aircraft voyage in just a five day period.

I felt overly worried for some reason, and made plans in case Kaden and/or Piper seemed to be experiencing any sort of discomfort at any point during the trip. I was really concerned for their ears and the extended air pressure at such a high altitude.

As luck would have it - just like the flight from Oslo to Toronto - Kaden and Piper slept for a good part of the day. Still, we made stops in Chicago and then Dallas, and then finally took a straight-shot to Lima. I wanted to take baby steps (no pun intended) with the quick stops in case there was any issues. But Kaden and Piper were a pair of cool, calm and collected little soldiers. At various points throughout the day when they actually were awake, both of them seemed very attentive and happy, and did not show any discomfort or irritability at all.

However, the 10-month-old and 6-month-old duo clearly did not enjoy the helicopter ride from Lima to the island itself whatsoever. The noise and the sheer ferocity of the spinning blades from overhead was too much for them.

Thus, I made the decision that when we returned to Lima on Saturday June 6, 2015, we would do so via my big luxury boat instead of the helicopter. Hopefully, the babies would enjoy that. I saw no reason why they would not. Both of them loved to go out on the boat back home in Norway.

----

Flying such a long distance always seemed to take a lot out of me. My senses were drained and I was extremely tired, but I found myself slowly drifting out of a very relaxing and peaceful sleep the day after our arrival a lot earlier than I should have. The time was 2:30am, yet our bodies were still accustomed to Norway time (where it was 8:30am now). After such a long trip, though, I should have slept much longer. I definitely should not have been awake at such an early hour.

But once becoming somewhat aware and alert of my immediate surroundings - and the fact we were back on the island - I could not help but to smile. How could I not smile? Was there anything not to smile about for me? I was lounging comfortably in the middle of a massive bed with seven women - all in various stages of undress - curled up all around me.

Kristanna and Devon were off to the side like usual as they continued to peacefully sleep, locked in a forever embrace with their lips just inches apart. Lindsay was to my left and Trish was behind her, her arms curled around in front and fastened together at her midriff.

Scarlett was closeby to Amy, naturally, and Lindsay had a loving arm coiled around Amy as well.

Tucked away all nice and snug within my own arms, Pamela rested quietly as the two of us huddled together upon the big bed in the master bedroom with all of the other ladies around us. I luxuriated in the warm feel of Pamela's wondrous, naked body, letting it comfort and soothe both my skin and my senses. I then brought a hand to Pamela's head, and gently ran my fingers throughout her silky-smooth blonde hair. Just having Pamela so close to me was something incredibly special. She truly needed to be worshiped.

In my mind, I began to harken back to nearly two years ago when I first met Pamela on this very island. I still remember coming across Pamela in the library her second day here as if it happened yesterday. Pamela and I had a very nice, long discussion in the library, which culminated in a sizzling sexual encounter that still ranks as perhaps my all-time personal favorite. I was so much in love with her from that moment forward. We had perfect chemistry together.

"I cannot believe that you were once a stripper," I whispered to Pamela as she lay within my arms here in bed, still dancing and frolicking in the land of dreams at this early morning hour. I offered her a gentle kiss upon the forehead and murmured, "My God, woman ... you are much too beautiful - and too classy - to have ever been a stripper."

Pamela was a down-to-earth girl whose busty charms and personable good nature had endeared her to everyone who had ever met her. Pamela was a truly gorgeous young woman, with an awe-inspiring figure and a very happy, smiling face that brightened up any room she was in. Her eyes were somewhat dark and inquisitive, but they also had a mischievous glint to them. They were a good representation of her personality.

"Why were you a stripper for so long?" I asked out loud. I shook my head and added in a whisper, "My only regret is that I did not rescue you from that horrible life and career long before I actually did." I squeezed Pamela bit tighter to me - wanting to cherish (and protect) her, and ended, "Nothing that happened back then matters anymore."

Indeed, it did not. Pamela would never see the stage of a strip club again. She would never have to wrap and coil her body in imaginative ways around a brass pole again. Best of all, Pamela no longer had to degrade herself in front of total and complete strangers in order to make a living. Those days were long gone, and would forever stay that way.

Of course, Pamela was an entirely different person today than she was when I first met her nearly two years ago (almost to the day). Pamela was no longer a stripper and now, believe it or not, no one could possibly even guess that was once her profession (for 12 years, no less). She had distanced herself so much from her prior life that sometimes I even forgot that she was once a high-paid exotic dancer myself.

But her transformation went much deeper than that. When Pamela first arrived on the island, she was reserved and very guarded - almost to the point of being shy. It was as if Pamela had a big shield around her, and was afraid to let others in. She was even somewhat of a recluse back then, often choosing to go to the library and read a book instead of getting involved in group activities with the others.

Being a stripper for so long certainly dulled and jaded Pamela's senses - and her ability to trust others - beyond all belief. She was quite stubborn and narrow-minded when we first met, needless to say, refusing to embrace (or even try) the idea of a group relationship and marriage. No ... Pamela was intent on having me to herself.

It led to some definite conflicts between her and Kristanna, as well as Devon, in those early days. Kristanna and I wanted Pamela to open both her mind and heart to us; we wanted to take care of her, and make her happy. We wanted to love and provide for her. But that was not going to happen unless Kristanna and I (as well as the others) broke through that seemingly impervious barrier Pamela had up at all times.

After not only leaving the island in an angry daze, but seemingly any chance of a relationship with us at the same time in July 2013, fast-forward a few months to the date of December 4, 2013. Pamela was rushed to the hospital in Maryland after collapsing on-stage at the strip club during a performance with what turned out to be an eye-opening and very serious medical (heart) scare.

Kristanna and I, both of us vacationing here on the island with the others at the time, rushed to Maryland overnight to be with Pamela, and lend our support. Although she turned out to be perfectly fine in the long run, both physically and in terms of her heart, being confined to a hospital bed and having her life flash before her eyes gave Pamela an epiphany of sorts. She was not happy; she needed a change in her life.

It took some doing on our part, but Kristanna and I were able to convince Pamela to come back to the island with us. After much more prodding and convincing, we eventually got that commitment from Pamela that had eluded us for so long. She finally realized that her greatest chance at happiness was with us, and as a part of our family.

A year-and-a-half later and now the proud mother of our 6-month-old daughter, Piper, Pamela was indeed a very different woman than the one I originally met in June 2013. She always seemed to have a smile and happy disposition. No longer guarded and afraid to let her emotions show, Pamela was even very playful and amiable. She and Kristanna - once at odds over my affections - got along wonderfully. She was very open and honest with not only me, but the others too; Pamela did not enjoy hiding secrets about herself from us.

In essence, Pamela was very much at ease with herself. She had finally found happiness (being with us) but, even more than that I believe, she had found a purpose in life (Piper). Pamela had opened both her body and mind to us, as well as her soul. She will tell anyone who asks her that it was the best decision she had ever made.

Even as I had a total seven women strewn about the bed with me at this early morning hour, I concentrated solely on Pamela. I thought about how much she meant to me, and how special of a lady she truly was.

I placed my mouth upon Pamela's neck and trailed a series of angel kisses all along its side. "Beautiful," I murmured, my lips cherishing the delicate skin. "So very beautiful."

"What are you doing?"

Pamela's tired, groggy voice seemed to startle me for a moment. Did I wake her up? I certainly did not mean to.

I withdrew my lips from her neck and smiled down at her in the darkness. "Sorry, honey. Just indulging myself."

"What time is it?" she asked, rustling about in the bed.

"Two-thirty in the morning," I told her. "Why don't you try and get some more sleep?"

Pamela brought a hand to her enchanting face and covered it for an instant, then sighed.

"I didn't mean to wake you up, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," Pamela assured me. "It's fine." She sat up and stretched both arms high above her head, then took a very deep breath. "I'm going to check on the kids in the next room to be certain that they are okay."

Very slowly, Pamela began to maneuver herself off of the bed. It was as if she was tiptoeing through a minefield; Pamela did not want to wake and/or startle the seven other sleeping beauties who were with us.

"Why am I naked?" Pamela suddenly asked me, trying to stifle a giggle. "I didn't go to sleep this way."

I offered her an innocent shrug of the shoulders. "Krissy said she prefers you naked. I certainly could not disagree with her. We kind of ... helped you out of your nightshirt and panties ... after you had fallen asleep last night."

"Is THAT so?" Pamela smirked, glancing down at Kristanna. "Hmmmmm, I'm going to have to get her back for that somehow!" She then focused her gaze upon me. "You too, Jeremy! I will find a way to enact revenge on you as well!" Pamela giggled at her own words as she tossed on her simple nightshirt, then exited the bedroom in order to check on the two babies.

Still exhausted and very tired, I glanced all around the bedroom and took in the beauty and the splendor of the other ladies even in the darkness. I reached out with my right hand and gently caressed Kristanna's slender hip, while brushing a big clump of long, free-flowing brown hair away from Trish's face with my left. She rustled about for an instant, but did not wake up.

I settled upon my side and, with Pamela no longer here for me to cuddle with, I moved in close behind Devon and gingerly placed my arms around her. Now the centerpiece of a Kristanna and Jeremy sandwich, Devon mewed a bit, but continued sleeping regardless. I used her healthy and thick, long blonde tresses as a pillow, and soon drifted off into dreamland myself.

Before that, however, I placed my right index finger into Kristanna's sexy mouth and held it there. Soon - even in a deep sleep - Kristanna was involuntarily sucking on my finger as if were an actual erection. She was truly insatiable...

----

After a searing sexual encounter with Kristanna and Devon on Friday morning at the beach (and ensuing trysts with both Pamela and Amy later on that same day), I awoke on Saturday morning with a very sore, aching back. I may be 41 years old and in pretty good shape for a man my age, but it was getting to the point where I felt more like 100 on certain mornings when I woke up. Not only did my back hurt, but in all honesty, my entire body was in pain. The simple reason for that? These seven women had collectively pushed me well beyond the limitations of any normal man.

It seemed as though every single time I turned around, one of them wanted a piece of me. Devon, for example, wanted to wrap her arms around me and make love. Pamela was turning into a blowjob machine. Scarlett was becoming much more aggressive with me, which meant her expectations and needs were increasing as well. If she had her way, Kristanna would have sex from now until the end of eternity - and still wind up wanting more. Trish was the most passive and subdued from the group when it came to sex. But catch Trish in the right frame of mind, though, and she was a powder keg of desire waiting to explode. Amy had been quite rambunctious since she became pregnant with Dani Grace. And Lindsay? Well, Lindsay was a nymphomaniac who had no limits or boundaries. At least Lindsay, though? Sweetest. Nymphomaniac. Ever.

The fact of the matter was that all of these women were forcing me to go beyond my capabilities in order to please them. Not many days went by where I did not have some sort of sexual encounter. This week had been an exception, of course, with the funeral in Canada and Amy's medical scare before it. More often than not, however, I had two or three sexual encounters per day, and sometimes more.

In no way did I have any complaints about my situation - that is not my point here. Instead, I am simply stating that trying to accommodate all of the ladies was putting a definite strain on not only my body, but my senses as well. I am only one man, of course, but they expect me to perform sexually and do my best to satisfy them 24 hours per day.

My back was so stiff and sore that I could barely move for 10 or 15 minutes when I woke up this morning. Kristanna and Devon, then Pamela and Amy really did a number on me yesterday. I had to lay in bed and literally gather the strength from the far depths of my body just to sit up. Then, it was a real struggle just to reach the washroom - where I was usually able to alleviate the discomfort with a nice, hot bath. Not today, though.

Today happened to one of those days where I felt really bad, and really sore. They occur every now and then. I figured that I must have pulled a muscle in my back as I bent over backwards (literally) aiming to please one (or more) of the ladies yesterday. 

Of course, I realized that I felt this way just after a mere two years of having the ladies in my life. I cringed at the thought of what shape I would be in 10 or 20 years from now. Would I still be in one piece? Would I still be able to take care of and satisfy seven women all at once? What if that number was higher by then? You never know...

As I entered my twilight years (hopefully) even later in life, would I ever reach the breaking point? A point of no return? Could I maintain this pace of keeping up with and attempting to satisfy seven women for the next 25 years? What about 30 years? 35? 

Again, I had no complaints. Despite the sharp pain in my back, I considered myself to be the luckiest man in the whole, wide world. I had seven of the most beautiful women alive, literally chomping at the bit for an opportunity to have sex with me on a daily basis. The physical and mental strain was overwhelming and tremendous, indeed, but I had no complaints. How could I? I would be a fool to have any objections.

On the other hand, the ladies knew that I was just one man, and there was only so much I could do for them. They knew I had limits, and would often back off when I was overly tired and in pain (like now). None of them would intentionally ever risk my long-term health and stability.

A gentle knock upon the entrance to the master bedroom elicited a long, drawn-out moan from within my throat on this warm, overcast morning. Having already cleaned up, I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner - it was 10:42am, then let out another moan. Which of the ladies was at the door right now? I thought they were all going down to the beach, which would allow me the opportunity to relax in bed and maybe catch some extra sleep until they returned to the mansion much later this afternoon. That was the plan.

Another knock came to the door, and then it slowly opened. A smile appeared on my face after I saw the person who had paid me this visit; it was Scarlett. The Norwegian valkyrie looked absolutely scrumptious in the striking combination of an orange, sleeveless top and a pair of little green shorts, with her shoulder-length red hair (she just switched from being a blonde yesterday (and had Kristanna trim a few inches off in back)) looking all fluffy and stylish.

"Hey there," Scarlett grinned, hands together at her waist, as she stepped into the room.

"Why aren't you with the others?" I flat-out asked her.

"Krissy and Pamela wanted me to check on you," Scarlett offered, which was confusing to me. What did she mean? I quickly got the idea, though, when Scarlett reached into the little bag she had with her, and pulled out a stethoscope. "Is your back feeling any better?" the 30-year-old inquired, hooking the medical instrument around her neck and shoulders, then popping each earpiece into place.

"It still hurts, but yeah," I answered.

My own personal angel of mercy, Scarlett - a registered nurse back home in Norway - placed the steely cold medical instrument upon my heart and listened to its internal sounds for several seconds. Scarlett appeared very professional and nurse-like, her expression neutral, as she then moved the device to either side of my neck, the center of my chest, and finally my lower abdomen.

"All seems well, but I want to check your blood pressure just to be sure," Scarlett said, reaching into the bag again. She wrapped a velcro strap around my left bicep, then pumped and squeezed the tube that went with it to get a reading. "130 over 80," she surmised. "It's a tad high, but nothing to worry about or be concerned with."




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 05



"I have a pulled muscle in my back," were my words for her. "You're examining me as if I just came rushing into the emergency room, and I'm a patient in dire need of help."

"You know how overly protective Krissy is of you, Jeremy," Scarlett reminded me. "We all know that Lindsay is your little baby. She is your little sweetheart. Well, YOU are Krissy's little baby." My eyes went wide in response to that proclamation - mostly because it was true - as the young woman added, "Krissy wants to know that you're okay. So does Pamela. And everyone else for that matter, too."

I smiled at her. "Tell Krissy to stop worrying about me. She needs to have fun at the beach with you and the others. It is good that all seven of you can go out and explore what the island has to offer. How are the kids doing?"

"Kaden and Piper LOVE the beach and playing on the edge of the waves in the sand," Scarlett responded. "Do not worry, everyone is keeping a VERY close watch on both of them."

Scarlett snaked a hand between the mattress and my poor, aching back. She massaged the trouble area - my lower spine - and mused, "Remember, I do NOT want you to use a heating pad, Jeremy. You should not use any heat for the first 48 hours after the initial injury. That is very important." Scarlett went even more caregiver on me, saying, "Any problems with bowel movements? Any pain in your hips, or down your legs?"

"No," I replied sheepishly.

"If the pain spreads at all," she explained, "it could potentially lead to something more serious." Scarlett pulled her hand out from underneath me and mused, "But let's just hope that it's a simple, little pulled muscle like you say."

"I'll be fine," I assured her. "The sky is not falling. I've been through this many times before."

"How do you think you hurt yourself originally?"

"Oh ... I don't know," I replied, my tone more than a bit sarcastic. "Maybe it was when Kristanna was bouncing up and down on me yesterday morning? Or maybe Devon? Or maybe it was both of them were bouncing and hopping on me together?"

"There is no need to be snippy, Jeremy."

"Yes," I frowned. "I apologize, sweetheart."

Her voice turned stern on me. "Do not forget that you were diagnosed with degenerative arthritis in your lower spine earlier this year. Trust me, I have not forgotten, Jeremy." Her eyes were bold and striking, her nostrils flaring. "Whether you believe it or not, every single one of us is concerned for you, and your long-term wellness. Your back is something we need to monitor from this point forward."

"Yes, Scarlett," I frowned, having been put in my place. You know that feeling you get when your doctor gives you a hard, strict lecture? The sense that your doctor just kicked your ass, but for your own good? That was how I felt now.

Slowly but surely, Scarlett was assuming her role as the family doctor. She was going to look after, and take care of, all of us for the absolute rest of her life. She was relishing the role, actually.

Suddenly, a very playful and mischievous smile came to Scarlett's face. "Krissy also wanted me to give you some therapy to help you feel better!" she chirped, full of glee.

"Krissy needs to stop acting all mother hen on me," I told Scarlett. "Really, I am fine."

"Oh! Therapy could be good for you! What do you say?"

Exasperated, I rolled my eyes. "Oh, okay. What do you have in mind, Scarlett? A back massage? Maybe stretching my legs out like Trish does for me during yoga exercise?"

I was thrown for a loop - shocked - when Scarlett reached into my sweat pants and grasped my sleepy, flaccid cock with her right hand and offered it a healthy squeeze. "This type of therapy!" she exclaimed, her little hand now pumping away.

"Scarlett, I can't," I protested at her. "You can't. We can't. I ... I can't have sex with you and risk further injury to my back." Did Scarlett not know that? She was a nurse, right? "Sweetheart, please..."

The 30-year-old goddess fished my shaft out of my sweat pants and wobbled it about in the open air, her right hand fiercely gripping its base. "Shhhhh," she softly whispered, trying to hush me. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

"Scarlett!..."

"Just lay back, Jeremy, and relax," she swooned. "Don't move. I'm going to make you feel better."

With that, Scarlett nudged one knee upon the bed and hunched completely over, clamping her lips around my shaft and continuing to jerk it off with her right hand.

"Trust me, I'm not going to hurt you," she reiterated in a soft, gentle tone, taking my shaft out of her mouth for a brief moment and licking it as if it were a tasty lollipop. "Just lay still, Jeremy, and don't move. Relax..."

I was still worried and nervous that this may lead to something bad, but those feelings were quickly being pushed to the wayside as I watched Scarlett's pretty red head start to bob up-and-down over my growing erection. She kept a tight seal with her lips and seemed to loosen her throat, allowing the tip to enter and try and force its way down.

Apprehensive, but deciding to give up on my worries for the time being, I tossed both hands into the air and growled like a madman. Scarlett made eye contact with me as she showcased her well-honed cocksucking skills, her vacuum-cleaner mouth and dancing fingers quickly working my shaft into a stiffened frenzy. Indeed, she was being very gentle, and careful.

"Oh my..." I moaned in total, sheer arousal, as Scarlett straddled my right thigh and sat up momentarily, only to unzip her orange halter top completely. My eyes took in the wondrous sight of her breasts encased in a lacey white bra, as both halves of the top were now loosely at her sides.

Scarlett quickly leaned over and put her tongue out, swiping away at my cock from its base to the very tip. She circled it a couple of times with her tongue, then opened her mouth and again sealed her lips around my shaft.

Of course, with Scarlett hunched over my erection and her top unzipped, I had a mouth-watering view of her lush, ample cleavage as it precariously hung down before my adoring eyes.

"Are you feeling any better, Jeremy?"

"God yes, Scarlett! God, yes!"

Scarlett expertly sucked the tip of my cock as she teased its underside with her lips and tongue. Again, she used her right hand to stroke the base of my shaft at the same time, being extra slow and meticulous, her breasts now rubbing and literally humping my left thigh.

I groaned yet again, unable to stop the initial squirt as my cock tossed its gooey semen across Scarlett's tongue and into her hungry mouth, where she guzzled it down her throat as if it was a hearty helping of milk.

Scarlett continued to pump and stroke me off as I shot load after heavy load of sperm into her sweet, sucking mouth, eagerly swallowing it as fast as it came. When the proverbial well had finally run dry after five or six eruptions, Scarlett pressed her thumb upon the underside of my cock and squeezed the last of my juices as she sucked hard. Then she released my cock and smacked her lips in triumph, obviously happy that not even a tiny drop of my seed had spilled free.

"Hmmmmm," she moaned in her own arousal, moving up and then settling down beside me upon the bed. Scarlett nuzzled the side of her face upon my shoulder and placed her hand across my chest. "See? I told you, Jeremy. I did not hurt you. I put no strain or extra pressure on your back at all."

"Yes," I told her in total, undeniable agreement, short of breath. "I need much more therapy from you in the future..."

With her opposite hand, Scarlett continued to gently stroke and frig my drained erection. "You know, Jeremy, before I met you, I absolutely refused to suck cock. I hated the idea."

"Oh?" I asked, my eyebrows raised. "Why is that?"

"I'm big into personal cleanliness and hygiene, you know, and going down on a man seems to be about the furthest thing from that." When I looked over at her and offered a puzzled expression, Scarlett giggled. "What? You should know that not every woman in the world enjoys sucking cock, Jeremy. In fact, there are many who don't. I used to be one of them. I never did it - completely, at least - until I met you."

"Why am I the lucky one?" was my next question.

Scarlett giggled again. "Well, for starters, when I first had sex with you, it was in the middle of that seven girl and one guy orgy you all orchestrated for me last year after Kaden was born. All of the other girls were taking turns going down on you - sucking your cock - so I felt compelled to as well. We even had a line going..."

"If you were against the idea, sweetheart, you should have spoke up," I advised her.

"It's okay now," she shrugged. "You do a good job of keeping yourself clean down there, Jeremy, unlike some prior boyfriends I have had. It does not seem gross and disgusting with you at all. Plus, I know how much you enjoy it."

"What do you mean by ... clean?"

"No odor," she clarified. "And thank God, no pubic hair. Who wants to get their nose entangled in a mess of pubic hair? I like it that Krissy insists on keeping your balls shaved, Jeremy - believe it or not. I doubt I could go down on you if they weren't. In fact, I know I couldn't."

"I'm not naive enough to believe that every woman in the world enjoys sucking cock," I casually mentioned to Scarlett. "My financial guru from Utah knows all about us - he knows I have six wives, a fiancee in you. His name is Mark; he is jealous. He says his wife hasn't gone down on him since 1985."

Scarlett held back a laugh. "I was a year old back then."

"But you enjoy it now? Fellatio?"

The red-head looked at me for a brief moment, then smiled brightly. "With you, I do. But only you." Scarlett placed the side of her beautiful face upon my chest and gently mewed, "No other man alive but you..."

----

Steps. Steps.

I hate steps! (But only when my back is sore)

The following day, I was feeling much better physically, but made the ill-advised decision to walk down to the storage garage for some beach-themed decorations that I wanted to hang throughout the mansion. Walking to the garage was not the problem; it was having to ascend the steps - the slabs of volcanic rock - that led back up to the house from the garage after I gathered the decorations and placed them in a bag.

I was only halfway up once I felt my back stiffen and nearly lock up. I had to latch onto the guard-rail and hold on tight to make it the rest of the way to the top. I found that I was only able to fully lift my right foot in order to ascend each step - my left sort of just dragged along. Oh, what I would not give to be Lindsay's age just one more time...

Once I had conquered climbing the steps, I took a moment or two to just stand there and relax. At the same time, I knew that I could not let any - and I do mean any - of the ladies come across me in such a debilitating state of both mind and body. Why? Kristanna would throw a fit.

Kristanna would most assuredly insist that I be rushed to the hospital in Lima via our friend's helicopter (or even emergency air-vac) and get every X-ray and imaging scan and test known to man performed on me. I did not want that. We had seen enough of the hospital in recent times as it was! I had a simple, little pulled muscle, but I was feeling much better today than I was yesterday. My only mistake was thinking that I could make it up 100 steps without incident.

I slowly meandered toward the side entrance of the mansion, believing that I could sneak in undetected there. However, I was wrong. Seated on the porch swing near the big sliding glass door was Devon. She was all by her lonesome and apparently munching on a small dish of ice cream. I knew that I had to toughen up, so to speak, and not show any outward signs or hints to Devon that I had further tweaked my back. I would get screeched at until I agreed to seek medical help...

"Care for some company?" I asked with a friendly smile, approaching Devon with a normal gait and walk (and having to expend all of my mental willpower to do so).

"Oh, hi Jeremy!" Devon greeted, her lovely, pristine face suddenly beaming with absolute delight at my presence. She patted the spot next to her on the swing and motioned for me to take a seat there. "Please, by all means!"

Devon looked a lot younger than her actual age of 29, yet she was mature and definitely all woman. Devon had bright blue eyes and long, wavy blonde hair that went down to the mid-point of her back. She also had a tiny, little overbite that made her smile seem all the more the sweeter, and a very sexy, petite figure wrapped up in a cupcake pink beach dress with a short hemline, tie waist and even an attached hoodie. Her legs were tanned and sleek, and looked magnificent...

"What'chya got there?" I wondered, settling down beside her (and pain shooting straight up my spine). I was able to hold face, though, and not let her know that I was hurting.

"A chocolate ice cream sundae with chopped bananas," she murmured, extending a healthy spoonful in my direction. "Try it, Jeremy. It's absolutely delicious."

Indeed, it was. I sampled a bite, but then Devon went back to enjoying the treat herself with the same spoon.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself? And where is everyone else at?"

"Hmmmmm ... let's see," Devon gently murmured, acting all inquisitive on me. "Kristanna, Pamela, Lindsay and Amy are all in the recreation room, playing with Kaden and Piper. Trish took Scarlett for a hike up to the big volcano. They left an hour ago."

"Trish and Scarlett went to the volcano by themselves?" I asked, suddenly worried. "That's a dangerous hike."

"Oh, they will be fine," Devon assured me. "Trish knows her way around this island almost as good as you and Krissy do, Jeremy. Besides, she has her phone with her if anything happens. She is checking in with Krissy every ten minutes."

"Okay..." I relented (but still worried).

Devon was forever full of sunshine and sweetness. She had been that way since long before I first met her. But now, as she and I sat together upon the swing outside, Devon was exuding even more light and happiness than usual. She took in a deep breath, letting the fresh, tropical air flood her senses. "I am so glad, Jeremy, that we finally got to come back to the island. This vacation has been long over-due. It just is so AWESOME to be back here!"

"I agree."

Devon reached out with a single arm and actually brought me to her in a nice, quick-hitting embrace. She then put her hand down with the other holding the ice cream cup in her lap. "May I ask you something, Jeremy?"

"Sure."

"Well a couple of things," she told me, pouting somewhat. "First off, how are you feeling?"

There was no getting away from this! But I had to keep trying regardless. "My back is fine, sweetheart. I feel a million times today than I did yesterday." Well, until I had to ascend those nasty steps. But no need to tell her...

"No, not that," Devon frowned at me. She looked down and bit her lip as if she was nervous. "You know, this past week or so, everyone has been focusing so much into Trish and Amy. Poor Trish lost her father in automobile accident and had to bury him this week probably 20, 30 years before it was his proper time to go. And then Amy, she got really upset and we had that scare with the baby and all where, for a while, many of us wondered if she was going to lose Dani Grace or not."

"It's been a rough week," I breathed.

"No, NOT that," Devon again insisted. "I'm not asking how your back feels, Jeremy, because I already know you won't tell me if it actually still hurts. You do not want Krissy or Scarlett to know. I'm asking ... how are YOU doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"A lot of focus this past week was put on Trish and Amy, and for good reason," she mewed. "But what about you, Jeremy? You have had one hell of a week yourself, you know. You went to the funeral for the father of one of your wives. That must not have been easy for you. And did everyone forget that Amy is not the only parent for her baby? You are Dani Grace's parent too, Jeremy - her father - and you went through that whole ordeal just like Amy did." Devon was really pouting now. "Everyone has been showering Trish with sympathy and affection, trying to cheer her up. That's understandable. All of the others want to wait on Amy hand and foot, and not cause her any worry or exertion. I commend that."

Devon actually balled a fist up and openly wondered, "But has anyone taken a moment of their time this week to ask how YOU are doing, Jeremy, and see if YOU are okay?"

There were ten seconds of silence before I finally told Devon, "You have." Her words were accurate, and I could have gotten upset just as Devon seemed to be doing herself, but it would not have been constructive. Nor was it my style.

"Come here," I told Devon next, wrapping both arms around her and embracing her warmly. I applauded her concern for me. "Actually, Scarlett has been a tremendous help this past week. She and I have done a lot of talking, and she has managed to cheer me up. Scarlett has definitely been there for me."

Devon frowned. "That's good to know, at least." She glanced downward again, but then made eye contact with me. "I just think ... I think ... I don't like it, Jeremy, that some of the girls seemingly forgot about you, and your feelings, this week. I ... maybe I am imagining all of this, I do not know, but it just does not seem right to me. And one person I am especially disappointed in is Kri..."

"Have you EVER seen a prettier pussy IN YOUR LIFE than this?" Kristanna asked, suddenly emerging from the mansion with a playful expression upon her face, her unique question cutting Devon off in mid-sentence. Was Devon actually about to criticize and disparage her sweet, beloved Kristanna before she showed up? Devon was as close to Kristanna, and thought just as highly of her, as Trish did Lindsay.

"Don't you think so, Jeremy?" Kristanna went on, clearly oblivious to our prior discussion. "Isn't this a pretty pussy? Do you think we can KEEP it? Can we take this pussy back home to Norway with us? We can NEVER have enough pussy!"

I held back a laugh and countered, "You're one-of-a-kind, sweetheart. I can't say that enough. One-of-a-kind..."

"Isn't this a pretty pussy, though?" she reiterated, holding a cat to her chest and stroking its back tenderly. The feline, which was purring, had already taken a very strong liking to Kristanna. Probably a stray, Kristanna found the animal needy and hungry just outside the airport in Lima three days ago. "Oh ... what a pretty pussy!"

"He is kind of cute," Devon grinned, reaching out and stroking the creature's back. "Or is it a she?"

"It's a girl pussy ... cat," Kristanna answered, trying to be funny. "Do you think we can take her home to the farm, Jeremy, and keep her with us? I just love pussycats. I think she would make good friends with Missi Prissi and Binkie! Maybe even Big Bertha, too!"

Devon held back a laugh. "Big Bertha? All that cat does is lay in the maintenance garage about 23 of 24 hours every day, and keeps gaining weight. You get anywhere near her, and she begins hissing and shrieking. Big Bertha does not want or need any friends, be it humans or other cats."

"Sure, you can take her home with us," I nodded. "It looks hungry and seems to have become attached to you rather quickly. It must not have had a home back in Lima."

"Did you hear that?" Kristanna squealed, holding the feline out in front of her and looking directly into its face. "We are gonna give you a home! What would be a good name for you? I got it ... Pussy! We'll call you Pussy!"

As Devon brought a hand to her mouth and stifled a laugh, I had to put my foot down in telling Kristanna, "You are NOT going to name that cat Pussy, sweetheart. You can take it back on the plane with us if you want, but it won't be named Pussy. That ... it's too ... it's too weird. I'm sorry."




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 05



"Oh Jeremy, you take the fun out of everything!" Kristanna huffed, albeit in a playful way. She turned her attention back to the animal and proclaimed, "Tummysticks! That is a good name for you ... Tummysticks! Yeah!" She cradled the feline upon her shoulder and shot Devon a mean-spirited look. "And Big Bertha is NOT fat!"

Suddenly giggling, Kristanna nudged her way in between us upon the porch swing and took a seat there. She handed Tummysticks off to Devon, then focused upon me and offered me a deep, pleasurable kiss which lasted for at least a full minute. By the end of it, I was lightheaded and felt a rustling within my shorts which became even more pronounced once Kristanna turned and did the same, exact favor for Devon.

Kristanna then placed an arm around either one of us and brought both Devon and I close to her in a loving, three-way embrace. She was happy; full of zest and bravado like usual. "So what are you two talking about out in with such a hush-hush, CLANDESTINE meeting?" Kristanna was so jovial!

"We weren't talking about anything," Devon squeaked.

Hmmmmm...

End of Chapter 5



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 06



Chapter 6: Pamela

As the author and narrator of this story, I am trying something entirely new and different with this chapter.

One of my lovely brides, Pamela, has been itching to lend her own two cents to the story - and give you (the reader) a different and very fresh perspective. I have agreed to allow Pamela to do just that, and also gave her free reign to write about any topic, experience or memory she has in regards to our life together, and marriage.

Pamela will take you, the reader, back 18 months in time to the date of December 5, 2013. That was the day following the medical scare when it was believed that Pamela had a heart attack at work, and was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.

Kristanna and I flew overnight from Peru to be there and lend whatever support we could to her.

According to Pamela, what happened that particular night - and the following morning - was the turning point of her life.

It sent her on the road to self-redemption, and happiness.

With Amy's own, recent medical issues, Pamela felt that sharing this tidbit of her past - and more importantly, her perspective on it - would make for an interesting read.

But first, I will share an excerpt from chapter two of

"Island Fever: Eternity" to help set up Pamela's narrative.

This will give you (the reader) a brief history lesson. The following, of course, was conveyed in my own words. It was also written when Pamela was not on the best of terms with Kristanna and, quite frankly, vice-versa.

*****

"I'm a stripper, thus I have no insurance through work. I can only imagine what this place is going to charge me once I get the bill. You'd think with all the money hospitals make, their beds could be at least be comfortable. But no..."

"You won't pay a cent," I told her. "I'll take care of it. I will take care of all of your medical costs."

Pamela sighed and shot me a disapproving glare. "I don't want your charity, Jeremy. I never did. And I never will."

She made a motion to reach for the cup of ice water, but a few of the wires attached to her body got tangled and her arm got caught. Exasperated, her entire body jerked and she threw a split-second hissy fit. "I hate this place!"

"Let me," I insisted, grabbing the cup of ice water and then handing it to her. "There."

"I feel like a lab rat with these things all over me!"

Pamela whined, upset. "This bed feels like a giant rock!

I just want to go home!"

"Can you sit up?"

"Why?"

"Just try," I pleaded. "Try to sit up, and not mess up any of the wires or the other equipment in the process."

It took some doing on her part, but Pamela was able to sit up on the bed. Being careful, I nudged my way in a little behind her, then wrapped my arms around her midriff in a tender embrace. In this position, she could recline upon me instead of the unforgiving mattress. "Much better," I nodded, starting to rock back-and-forth in a gentle fashion.

I took the cup of ice water from her right hand, only then to bring it up to her lips. "Drink," I whispered. Pamela took a small sip, then crunched on some ice with her teeth.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" I asked yet again.

"You know I will do anything to help you. Anything at all."

Pamela turned and made eye contact with me. Tears were still flowing down her face as she begged, "Please don't ever leave me. I don't ... I don't want to lose you ... again."

"Whoa, sweetheart," I responded, unsure what to think of her request. "I have a..."

"I know," she said, cutting me off. "You have a wife.

You ... have the other girls. You're not giving that up.

I'm not ... I'm not asking you to." Pamela took a deep, ragged breath and gulped her throat. She again peered into my eyes, this time simply asking, "Are you happy?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

The 30-year-old offered a faint smile, yet a new tear slid down her cheek anyway. "Good. You deserve it."

"Are you happy?"

Pamela began to sob once again. "N-No..."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't have you," she answered honestly, before completely breaking down and losing control of her faculties.

Pamela balled up a pair of fists and punched each of my shoulders with them several times in succession. "WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE HERE RIGHT NOW? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO COME BACK INTO MY LIFE?" She slapped at my shoulders now with open, weak palms. "I'm never going to get over you now..."

"Just come back to the island with us."

Pamela screeched and literally jumped two feet high off of the bed as Kristanna entered the hospital room while saying those eight words. Looking as if she had just saw a ghost, Pamela clutched the bed-sheet tightly to her body as Kristanna made a slow approach. Obviously, Pamela was not aware that I had brought company along to Baltimore with me. These two ladies, needless to say, were not exactly the best of friends.

"What is SHE doing here?" Pamela roared, glaring at me.

"Come back to the island with us," Kristanna reiterated, causing Pamela to shift focus back to her. "I've been talking with your sister. You're miserable here in Maryland. You work six nights a week and have no social life outside of that wretched strip club. You have shut yourself off from the rest of humanity. And you refuse to date anyone."

Kristanna was not done. Not by a long shot. "You've been going to college all these years looking to become a teacher, yet you know down-deep that no school district would ever hire someone with a background that includes 12 years as a stripper. Well ... one school would have, but you passed that opportunity up when you refused Jeremy's offer of help several months ago. And now, with a heart issue, what strip club would want you? I am sure dancing and stripping is hard, strenuous work ... that's a lot to put on your heart."

"Get Kristanna out of here, Jeremy!" Pamela seethed, trying to control her anger. "She is talking down to me!"

"I'm not talking down to you at all," Kristanna growled, hands on hips. "I'm offering you a solution to end all of your problems. Come back to the island with us."

"Krissy?" I said, dumbfounded. "How? Why?..." Where was this coming from? Wasn't Kristanna supposed to be at odds with Pamela? Weren't these two women enemies, in some way?

Ignoring me, my wife told Pamela yet again, "Come back to the island with us. Come back, and let's start over. Come with us to Norway when we travel there in three weeks. Give yourself the opportunity of finally being happy in life."

"Are you INSANE?" Pamela sniped.

"Your sister told me that even YOU yourself will admit that the single, biggest mistake that you ever made in your life was leaving the island and not giving the rest of us - the girls - a better chance. You were so Hell-bent on winning Jeremy over and keeping him to yourself, and so angry at me at the same time because he chose me - he chose US - over you, that you realized once leaving and returning home that sharing Jeremy is a million times better than not having him at all."

"Jeremy may have a wife who loves him more than life itself," Kristanna proclaimed. "I will do anything and everything I can to make Jeremy happy. I would DIE for him if I had to." I narrowed my gaze at her as she continued,

"Jeremy may have four other live-in girlfriends as well.

Lindsay and Amy worship the ground that he walks on. Each of them cannot imagine what their life would be like without him in it. Devvy and Trish are very close to him as well.

Both have completely sworn off other men."

"So ... Jeremy has a loving wife, he has four girlfriends - two of which are itching to marry him. Jeremy has all the money and financial security anyone could ever ask for. He is, in many respects, leading a charmed life."

Kristanna paused, then added, "Yet there is this big, massive void in that life. It's been there for five months.

I have seen it every single day. I have lived through it EVERY SINGLE DAY. It's you, Pamela. It's you, and the fact that you're not a part of it."

"Krissy, what about all the..."

"Come with us, Pamela," my bride interjected, my words chopped off in mid-sentence one more time. "I am willing to forget our troubles from the past because I know that Jeremy needs you, and you need him. I got him into this lifestyle, and I knew there would be moments like this where one day I may have to make a sacrifice. I am willing to start over fresh with you, provided you have an open mind concerning our lifestyle and, at the very least, you give your absolute all to make it work between us."

I was too stunned to even say anything. Was this what Kristanna wanted all along? Was this really why she had insisted on coming along for the trip to Maryland? Did she have prior visions of luring Pamela back into our lives?

And ... I had a massive void in my life? Really?

Pamela, meanwhile, was shell-shocked and mortified beyond any and all reason. It still appeared as if she just saw a ghost. What exactly was going through Pamela's mind at this particular moment in time? I really had no idea. She just sat there, literally frozen, with a blank, empty stare.

Thus, Kristanna offered her hand to Pamela and simply said, "Let's go home."

[The End of "Island Fever: Eternity", Chapter 2]

*****

(Now, I hand the pen over to Pamela. All of the following is written by her. She is going to explain what happened later that day, and the following morning - something I chose not to do when originally writing the story).

- Monday, December 5, 2013 -

- Nottingham, Maryland -

>> Written by: Pamela

I had a good shower cry. Ugly, hard and stinging, even though I did not get soap in my eyes. It was brutal.

When the water heater gave out, I finally dried off, slipped on a tank-top and sleep pants and poured a glass (actually a vat) of orange juice before heading into my bedroom. I would have preferred something much stronger to drink, but it probably would not have been the best idea since I was just released from the hospital hours ago after a massive scare involving my heart.

Frowning, I looked around the bedroom and sighed. I had lived in this penthouse apartment for nearly a decade now, the exorbitant rent and other expenses associated with having a place this nice never really an issue for me. It was worth it.

This bedroom lent several memories to me. Watching old movies, reading countless books ... and hours of reflection. The closet doors were sliding, full-length mirrors trimmed in brass.

How many times had I stood in front of my own reflection and just contemplated my life and the events which led me to where I am in the present time? I did it again, walking over to the mirrored door, but quickly rolling it open and searching the floor for the plastic container I used to store what was once on the bookshelves.

Spotting the box, I slid to the floor and took a deep drink of orange juice. I wished it was wine, or something stronger, before setting its glass on the nearby nightstand. I wanted to find my old high school yearbook.

As I dug through pieces of my life packed into a bin, I refused to let the nostalgia get to me. They were things from my bookshelves, that is all. Not me. A tiara from homecoming, a framed picture of me in my cheerleading uniform, a dried corsage from prom, the program from the Miss Teen Maryland pageant ... they were distant, ancient memories of a girl who, quite simply, no longer existed. She was long gone.

I had no one to blame for that but myself. Oh, I may have took home $4,000 to $5,000 in cash per week from my job which allowed a penthouse such as this, but at what other cost?

Being an exotic dancer for the past 12 years had burned and scarred me to what I felt was the point of no return. The endless putdowns and insults from nameless, faceless customers, the constant reminder that, as the customer, they had all the power and I was a measley, little insignificant stripper providing them a service (a lap dance).

I was, for lack of a better term, nothing more than a tool.

The drunken customer sees one tiny imperfection, or finds a flaw, when I approach him to try and gauge his interest? He prefers a brunette, instead of a blonde? Just toss me aside like yesterday's garbage (and say something very rude and crass while doing so). Me, try and retaliate? Lose my job.

My trust in humanity and, much more importantly to me, the confidence I once had in myself had been shattered long ago. I was not throwing blame, or pointing fingers, at others. I had gotten myself into this mess on my own.

In the closet, I lifted a graduation cap and my fingers hit the hard edge of a book cover.

[High School Name] Yearbook 2001 ... A New Day Has Come.

The edition was more serious than most years, less emphasis on partying at the shore and more emphasis on making a difference in the world. I had goals and aspirations of making a difference once. I wanted to be a schoolteacher.

Oh, I had changed so much since those days.

I leaned back against the bed, reaching for another sip of orange juice, before opening the book. Then I flipped to the seniors and the pages automatically opened to the latter half of the alphabet, with my picture on the left-hand side.

I stared at the photograph, unable to imagine that this smiling, pretty girl who had her whole life in front of her would one day feel so burned out and jaded by the rigors of the world, and the path she had chosen. So horribly down and depressed, buried in a hole she could never get out of.

It all stemmed from the career path I chosen.

A friend of mine talked me into it; I auditioned to be a stripper at the age of 19. My friend made it sound like it was easy money. Just show up, smile and be happy, but leave your emotions behind. That was the most important thing.

Don't let things get to you here, she said. The money was great! Of course, Mandy did not tell me that this was how she supported the cocaine and heroin habits that eventually killed her, but that is a whole other story by itself.

Fortunately, I never touched drugs in my life. Although for the past 12 years, they were constantly all around me.

I certainly did not think I would still be stripping here in December 2013 when I first took the job in January 2002.

At first, it was just a way to build a tuition fund. That is what every stripper says, right? But Mandy was right.

The money was good. It was too good to walk away from.

I woke up one day, perhaps in 2008 or 2009, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized what this job had done to me. It took me that long, but I finally realized what I had become. Little by little, due to the never-ending stress and constant verbal abuse over the years, pieces of me had been torn away. Eventually, my soul was being ripped at.

In my bedroom, I rolled the closet door back and stared at my own reflection. I tried to see myself through the eyes of Jeremy and Kristanna via the mirror. Well, Jeremy actually.

Both of them were spending the night in the guest room across the hall. But all I saw in the mirror was a shadow of the woman I could have been, and certainly not the woman that Jeremy always claimed and thought I was.

I closed my eyes and released a painful sigh. I could not go the rest of my life alone, could I? Jeremy and Kristanna were offering me a way out, but it meant...

A cold shudder passed throughout my whole body. I wanted Jeremy. I really, truly felt the desire for a man that I feared my job (and other decisions I had made in life) would never allow me to experience again. But there it was, alive and sparking in every nerve ending in my body. I wanted him.

How many more men would actually come along in my life who made me feel this way? I honestly felt that Jeremy was the end of the line for me, mostly because no other man ever came even remotely close to comparing with him. Jeremy would be my standard from now on, and thus, all others would fall short.

He was by so and away ... better, than everyone else.

Oh, it had been so long that since before meeting Jeremy, I had made love to a man who actually cared about my feelings.

I just could not trust anyone. I had no faith in others.

But Jeremy was different. Jeremy was my white knight in shining armor. Oddly enough, he wanted to love and care for me as well. But there was a catch. There always was. In order for that to happen, I had to enter into a relationship with not only him, but also his wife Kristanna, and his four live-in girlfriends in Devon, Trish, Lindsay and Amy. One day, I was certain, all of them would be his wives as well.

And he wanted to fit in there with them ... somehow.

Marriages and relationships, at least in my mind, were not supposed to consist of massive orgies and parties where truly anything goes. My ideals revolved around a man and a woman in love, getting married and eventually raising children together. Isn't that the way God intended it to be?

But I loved Jeremy so much. I left the island seemingly for good back in July, but immediately felt it was the single, biggest mistake I had ever made in my entire life. I needed Jeremy. I was burning for him. Why had I been so stubborn, and not given the idea of a group relationship with Jeremy, Kristanna and Devon more consideration? (Since that point in time, Trish, Lindsay, Amy and Scarlett had also been added).

Last night, I collapsed on stage at the strip club in Towson and was rushed to the hospital with what was originally believed to be a heart attack. I can safely say that not only had the strip club ripped away my dignity, but now it was trying to claim my bodily organs as well. Oh, the scare was not quite so bad, I suppose. I had a heart condition known as stable angina that, I just learned today, was totally controllable with the proper medication.

But lo and behold, as I was laying in the hospital overnight with what seemed like thousands of wires attached to every square inch of my body (and before I knew what my true ailment was) my white knight in shining armor was galloping my way on his trusty steed from halfway around the world to be at my side (okay, Jeremy was on an airplane, but that does not sound near as dramatic). He brought Kristanna with him, and the two offered me another opportunity to come and re-join them, and be part of their developing family. I still had yet to give them an answer; I promised I would have one in the morning.

Tears began to well up within my eyes as I continued to gaze upon my own reflection. Why was Jeremy so interested in me? What could I possibly give him that Kristanna had not already? Hell ... Devon, Trish, Lindsay, Amy? What could I possibly offer that would better and further what already must be a perfect life for him?

And what if, eventually, he saw me for what I already knew I truly was? What if one day, he learned the truth?

I. Am. A. Stripper.

Nothing more, nothing less. Certainly no good to anyone, too much of a recluse to trust others and let them in. I did not deserve a kind and wonderful man like Jeremy.

With tears streaming down my face, I exited the bedroom to get a bite to eat from the kitchen, but found a blazing fire in the fireplace, and Jeremy on one knee, adjusting the glass enclosures around the cackling flames.

Jeremy was bare-chested, but wore a pair of gray sweat pants. In the firelight, the muscles and cuts of his bare chest looked like an artist had painted them. I had not seen him without his shirt on in five months...

"Wow," I said, trying to compose myself, as I ventured closer to him. "I'm impressed."

"Don't be," Jeremy told me. "All I did was find the switch and turn on a gas fireplace." He stood, his body on full display, the drawstring around his waist loose enough so the pants fell over narrow hips, revealing more of his masculine form. Did he really think I was referring to his ability to start a fire with my prior comment? Jeremy was so naive and humble sometimes, it was downright adorable.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 06



My heart then turned to hot butter when he extended his hand and insisted, "Come here."

I do not know why, but before I went to him, I tossed on a robe and pulled it tight. It was more for protection, because I was not feeling cold at all. But protection from what? I walked closer. Suddenly, I was scared. I was scared one day he may learn ... the truth. Would Jeremy toss me aside like a piece of trash as well? That's right ... I needed to shield myself, and protect the awful, nasty truth.

Jeremy already knew that I was a stripper, no doubt, but did he know that a man as genuine and heartwarming as he is could do so much better than landing a stripper? Hell, he already had. Yet Jeremy still wanted me.

"You keep your refrigerator stacked, Pamela," he said.

"Would you like anything from it?"

"I'm not hungry." I just left my room to get a snack, right? But I told him I was not hungry. "It's too late for food," I mewed, "and too early for coffee." I was starving!

"The magic hour of midnight," he contemplated with a smile, taking my hand. "Let's enjoy the fire, dear, and maybe you will fall back to sleep. You need your rest."

Doubtful, but the offer was too good to fight, so I let him guide me to the floor, fluffing up the big down comforter around us, making it a soft bed. Jeremy leaned against the sofa, facing the fire and I naturally, so, so naturally, curled against his broad chest and let him wrap a strong, reassuring arm around me. Could we stay like this forever?

Silent for a moment, he stroked my hair.

"I want you to come back to the island, Pamela, and then move to Norway with us," he said, the low baritone of his voice so incredibly calm and soothing. I could not help it; I found myself snuggling even closer to him. His fingers threaded my hair slowly in response. "I don't want to lose you again. I want to take care of you, and provide for you.

I want to give you everything you deserve in life."

Those words actually hit low and hard, making me close my eyes while he continued. Just exactly what did I deserve in life? A brass pole at the Gold Club named in my honor?

"Will you come back to the island with us, sweetheart?" he pleaded. Yes, Jeremy was pleading with me. It should have been the other way around. "Will you give our way of life another try? Kristanna was right earlier ... what she said at the hospital. There is a major void without you in my life."

"More than anything though, Pamela, I just want you to be happy. You're not happy here, and I can tell that. We can tell it." Jeremy shifted, moving one sizable shoulder under my head. "I know that all of us could make you happy."

I could not say yes to him. Not yet, anyway. I was scared. I was scared of everything, actually. Could I actually share this man with five other women?

And Kristanna as one of them? The same Kristanna who just 24 hours ago I would have ranked as my ultimate enemy in life?

The same Kristanna who, this past summer, went out of her way to persuade Jeremy into a relationship with her, and away from a one-on-one relationship with me? The same Kristanna who insisted to Jeremy that Devon was also a much better match for him than I was? The same Kristanna who I once hated?

And yes, the same Kristanna who showed up alongside Jeremy at the hospital earlier, and offered me an equal spot in their life and marriage? The same Kristanna who had been so sweet and attentive toward me today that I was starting to change my tune about her, and the unique ideals she had.

"Are you happy, Pamela?"

That question, after 20 seconds of silence, hit me like a gunshot. It was the second time he asked me it today. Jeremy tickled my cheek with his fingertips, then met my gaze with one full of emotion and promise. He already knew the answer.

"You need ... someone." Yes damnit, I need you, Jeremy!

"You need someone to treat you ... right." My heart folded in half, stabbing my chest. "Let it be me. Let it be US."

He resumed his hair twirling and cheek caressing, our legs stretched out in front of us, the rest of his body still.

"Where is your wife?" were the only words that came out of my mouth. Really? That was all I could say to him now?

"Krissy is laying down in the extra bedroom," he told me.

"May or may not be asleep. I told her I wanted to start a fire." I started to move, but Jeremy tensed his arm and kept me where I was, gathering up a handful of hair and bringing it to his nose to sniff. I felt so safe and secure under his powerful, protective watch. "You smell like cherries."

"It's a scented shampoo."

"Krissy is a good woman, Pamela," he advised me. "She is a very special and truly unique woman. Despite the many differences you and her have had, Krissy wants to put it all behind her and start over. She wants you with us, too. She knows it is what's best for our family, and for you."

This seemed crazy to me. But an icy cold fear tiptoed up my spine. What if I told him no? Could I give up the man I loved more than anyone or anything ... again?

I could stay here in Maryland and dance at the Gold Club until I got so old that they decided to kick me out. What then? Ahh yes, I could go to a much lesser, seedy strip joint whose standards were not quite so high, and maybe continue stripping well into my 40's. By the time I turn 50, I would be so old and washed up, totally broken down physically and especially mentally, and I would be ... alone.

Surely, the college degree I was about to get was not going to do me any good. What school system would hire a teacher who had such a long and extensive history as a stripper?

Well, maybe I could provide some entertainment for the fathers at the PTA meetings in a separate room. Ask them to whip out their wallets? Isn't that all I am really good for in life?

Jeremy took my hand and pulled me down so we could lie next to each other. He proceeded to line up our bodies with him on his back and my head on his shoulder, our legs criss-crossed.

We sank into the fluffy down comforter, and he literally wrapped us together as one. There were no cars passing by or other noises from outside at this time of night. All I heard, in fact, was the soft hiss of the gas fireplace and the steady thump of my pulse against my throat.

Waiting for that to slow to a normal rate, I did not talk, but let my breathing even out. Unable to resist, I ran my fingers along his chest. I felt a surge of electrical passion and desire shoot through me and invade every inch of my soul.

"Come with us," he urged. "Come with us, Pamela, and I promise you that no one will ever hurt you again. I swear to you. You deserve better than this."

"I know." Did I?

"No, you don't. But I will prove it to you. I will show you. I will show you what happiness is, and what it feels like. And once you're sure, once you're absolutely, one hundred percent sure, I will marry you, Pamela. I will marry you, and we will have babies together. And you will find yourself drowning each day in a sea of love and happiness."

Jeremy pulled me up closer, brushing a kiss on my temple, wiping away more doubt and hurt with one kiss than he could ever realize. I then closed my eyes and tilted my head, accepting the sweetest, softest, most beautiful kiss I ever received. "I'll never be..."

"Yes you will," he interjected, feathering another kiss on my cheek, my temple, and finally my ear. "You will be sure and ready, and happy. And the only tears you'll shed will be from pleasure and joy. I promise you that."

For a long time, I simply stared at the fire, both of us perfectly still until Jeremy fell asleep in exactly that position. I watched him slumber and drank in the sweet tranquility of the moment, and everything he offered and promised, and somehow managed to hold back the tears as his last words played over and over again in my mind.

It may turn out that I would be sure about that commitment.

I may even be ready to take the plunge, and try. But I would never be happy. Not the way Jeremy wanted me to be, at least.

And that was the saddest thing of all. Me, of all people? I honestly felt as if I did not deserve to be happy. I had sold my heart and soul - my body - to the Devil long ago. I was depressed, and felt hollow, extremely lonely, inside.

I was, after all, a stripper.

----

"Hi there, sleepy-head!" Kristanna greeted me bright and early in the morning, kneeling down beside me with a smile that was even more golden than her tanned, bronzed skin.

Kristanna giggled merrily, being her usual, chipper self, as she glanced back at me while nibbling on a piece of toast. I looked around, having just woke up, but did not see Jeremy anywhere. Where was he? I wanted him with me!

"Jeremy is in the shower," Kristanna offered, obviously gauging me and my thoughts. "I hope he is not imposing? He was wondering if it would be okay if he took a shower, but neither of us wanted to wake you. You've had a rough time."

"It's fine," I told her, my voice strained. I felt so sore and achy from everything that happened over the past 36 hours. I never want to be in a hospital bed again!

"Hungry?" Kristanna chirped, breaking her toast in half and offering it to me. When I shook my head at her, she shrugged her shoulders and took a big bite instead herself.

Truth be told, I was hungry ... even more so than last night.

"Oh, I have your morning medicine ready whenever you want to take it," she mused. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Not really." Oh, I knew something that would enliven my senses and make me feel much better. That would be slipping into a nice, hot shower with Jeremy, and making love to him.

"So what do we have to do to convince you to finally come back to the island and be with us?" Kristanna inquired, getting right to the point. She had never been afraid to speak her mind. "It's time you come home, Pamela."

I held back a laugh. "What is home? Really?"

"Home is the place where you wake up every day and feel as if you have a purpose," Kristanna responded. "Home is where the people who love and care for you the most are to be found. You can share your joys and happiness with them, but you can also confide in them your fears, your doubts, your anxieties. Home is where, no matter what, you will never be judged or condemned, because the others who live with you and see you every single day ... they love you.

They respect you and your decisions, your judgment, the choices you have made in life - whether good or bad."

I covered my face, trying to hide my emotions. But it was no use. I had made plenty of bad decisions in my life.

"Jeremy loves you," Kristanna told me. "He loves you more than you would ever know, Pamela. He talks about you and worries about you every single day. Please ... let us in."

I shook my head at her. This seemed insane. "Why would Jeremy talk and worry about me every single day? We live thousands of miles apart, he already has a wife in you, and he has four other girlfriends who live and share in his life.

Where do I factor into his daily routine?"

"He loves and cares for you," she reiterated. "He wants you to be happy. He knows he could provide that for you.

It's tearing him apart inside to see you like this."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're his wife," I countered. "You're okay with four other women, and possibly five, sharing him with you?"

"We share each other as well," Kristanna reminded me.

"It is not five women teaming up on one guy. It is six people loving and sharing their life together as a group."

She paused, then smiled. "You would make seven."

"I'm not the jealous type," Kristanna mused. "You want Jeremy all to yourself for a day, two days? Three days?

You want to go on a little romantic trip with him? That would be fine, Pamela. I'm not the jealous type. None of us are. You take Jeremy away for a day or two, or three, and that gives me the opportunity to spend more quality, alone time with one or more of the other girls."

"But I guarantee you one thing," Kristanna quickly added.

"You give our way of life a try, Pamela, and you will not want Jeremy to yourself. There will be days that you want to devote yourself to Amy. To Trish. To Lindsay, Devvy.

Hey, maybe even me! You will fall endlessly in love with all of us. It is just the nature of our relationship."

"I know it may be hard to understand, but look no further than Lindsay for an example. All you remember Lindsay as, Pamela, is as a Bible-touting virgin who got scared because Trish fell in love with her. You left the island too soon.

What happened after you left was that Lindsay realized that if she wanted to be happy in life - even at her young and tender age of 18 - her best chance was to be with us."

"Jeremy SHOWERED Lindsay with love and affection during what was supposed to be her final week on the island,"

Kristanna continued. "So much so, in fact, that the light popped on for her, and she realized she could not leave."

"I would have never thought that Lindsay would settle down and enter in a relationship like yours at her age,"

I told her. "But I could easily envision Jeremy turning up the heat, so to speak, and convincing her to stay." After all, Jeremy tried to do that to me just last night.

"Jeremy did nothing of the sort," Kristanna said. "He had no idea Lindsay was contemplating whether or not she should go or stay. Jeremy was just being Jeremy. To him, it was Lindsay's last couple of days on the island, and he wanted to be extra nice to her. We gave them three days to basically be alone together. Jeremy was being Jeremy and, in doing so, he made Lindsay fall in love with him and thus, open herself up to the idea of a group relationship and marriage."

Kristanna was so confident; so self-assured. She believed in her unique ideals and would never back down from them no matter the case. Kristanna was also bubbling over with pure happiness and enthusiasm. She was just so damn perky.

Nothing ever seemed to faze her.

In essence, Kristanna was everything that I wished I could be myself. I would surely never get there going down my current path in life.

Perhaps I should accept their offer, and give the island and their lifestyle one more try? This time, an honest try.

Jeremy and Kristanna kept telling me that I did not have to commit to anything, and could make whatever decision on my own time. I could even take as long as I wanted. I could also leave whenever I wanted if I found the relationship to be unfavorable. I trusted Jeremy and his word. I knew he would not lie to me and I would not, perhaps, find myself in a situation where I was being strong-armed into accepting.

More importantly, could I actually fall in love with Kristanna as I had Jeremy? Would I want to spend that day she spoke of out with her instead of him? Could I fall in love with the absolute epicenter of happiness, and positive vibrations? Could some of Kristanna's zest and zeal actually rub off on me, and change my life for the better?

I have long had an interest and been attracted to other women, but I certainly never entertained the idea of settling down with one. Much less four others, AND a man, all at the same time! All of this was simply mind-boggling to me.

"I have something to show you," Kristanna said, reaching for her tablet device and then thumbing through it. "All of the girls back home got together last night, and took a picture for you." When she had apparently found said picture, Kristanna turned her tablet my way and showed it to me. Not prepared for what I saw in the image, I let out a shrill cry and began shedding tears immediately.

In the photograph, Devon, Trish, Lindsay and Amy were all smiling and mugging for the camera. They looked like a big, happy family. But what got me (and made me cry) was that all four of them were holding up a huge, white banner, with a stenciled message full of pink glitter and sparkle on it.

We love you Pamela. Please come back!

I do not know why, but it was too much for me to handle.

I could not control myself, or my emotions. I was crying like a baby. I really should have been embarrassed that I was acting this way in front of Kristanna. But never had I been witness to something like that photograph. It was such a simple gesture on their part and did not take much effort, but to me it was monumental and tremendous. It blew my mind.

I also wanted to jump into the photograph and hug Amy because, at one point, she was my closest friend on the island. Oh ... I missed Amy terribly. She had turned her life completely around in the five months since I saw her last. Gone were the days of sulky mood swings and that passive-aggressive demeanor which got her into trouble on several occasions. From all accounts, Amy was different now. She was, for the first time in her life, happy. If Amy could get to that point with Jeremy and Kristanna's guidance, then why not me? Yeah, why not me?

The circumstances and the road to be traveled were going to be vastly different, but the end result could be the same.

On her Facebook and Instagram pages, Amy spoke with such sheer reverence about not only Jeremy, but Kristanna as well.

Amy went on and on about how she was the luckiest girl on the face of the planet. The myriad of photographs she shared, with smiling faces everywhere, was proof. Amy was what I strived to be ... happy. Indeed, why not me? Why not me?

Just as she had done yesterday at the hospital, Kristanna waited a few seconds, then extended her hand to me in an offer full of promise, and hope. "Let's go home, Pamela."

Yesterday, I did not dare move a muscle. I was confused and loopy on medication, and did not know what to think of her proposal. At the time, Kristanna was still a hated rival of mine. I did not accept her hand yesterday. I was too scared, and too disoriented. It would have been impossible.

She had held it outward for 20 seconds before detracting it.

Today, however? After seeing that photograph and listening to Kristanna extoll the virtues of her marriage and relationship with Jeremy and the other girls? After, dear God, spending the night wrapped up in Jeremy's arms?

How could I pass this up? Even if I did not agree with or understand all of the dynamics of their group arrangement, perhaps one day I would. And perhaps one day I would be as perky as little Miss Sunshine herself.

There was a massive lump in my throat, but I found my right hand moving forward this time. Ever so slowly; almost at a snail's pace, it finally reached Kristanna's, and we entwined our fingers together as one and squeezed gently.

This was the beginning of a new life for me. 18 months and a little Piper later (not to mention a little Kaden and a little Dani Grace who was on the way), I can honestly say that it is the best decision I have ever made. Everything Jeremy and Kristanna promised me came true, and then some.

"I'd love to go home," I told her in response on that fateful morning 18 months ago, tears gushing down my face.

And as if on cue, Kristanna hugged me.

---- End of Chapter 6 ----



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 07



Chapter 7: Idyllic

- Monday, June 1, 2015 -

Foamy seawater burst in small explosions around my bare feet as I strode through the surf. A breeze swept through my hair and cooled my otherwise sunburned face. My eyes were glued to the ground, where sea and sand met.

There was nothing here, I said inwardly. Just busted-up pieces of mussel shells. Then, I saw something - a blue and white seashell glowing in the sand just a few feet away. It was perfectly formed, with shallow ridges all around. That would be a fine addition to my ever-growing collection!

But when a small wave tumbled in, the shell disappeared from sight. Undaunted, I lunged through the water and bent down at the spot where the shell was. Miraculously still there, I began to close my fingers around it.

"Watch out!" came a voice from behind me.

But it was too late. A runaway surfboard banged hard into my shin and knocked me completely off balance. I fell down in the water and lost my grip on the seashell, which gently floated out to sea and then vanished beneath the surface. Good luck finding it now, right?

"I'm sorry, Jeremy!" came that same, concerned voice.

I ignored the slender, feminine hand that soon offered to help me to my feet. Upset at the sudden pain in my lower leg, I sprung up myself and snapped at Kristanna, "Why don't you have your safety leash on your board?"

Obviously feeling guilty, Kristanna raised one foot and pointed to a broken, fettered black cord around her ankle. "I guess I need to get a new leash. I'm sorry, Jeremy..."

"It's okay," I mumbled in response, accepting her apology. How could I be angry at this amazing woman for more than a second or two? My wife clearly did nothing wrong on purpose.

"Krissy!" Pamela screeched from about 30 feet out in the water, laying frontside-down on her own surfboard and happily paddling about as if she did not have a care in the world. Pamela even got a humorous, somewhat goofy expression upon her face as she tilted her head from side-to-side in a repeated motion, adding, "Krissyyyyyy! Get back out here!"

"Hold on a minute, baby," Kristanna told Pamela, glancing back over her shoulder at her, before returning her focus to me. She offered me the sexiest little pout I had ever seen, then sadly mewed, "Are you sure you're okay, Jeremy?"

"KRISSYYYYYY!" Pamela wailed out, clearly wanting her to come back out and resume the surfing lesson she was providing for her. I figured Pamela must not have witnessed that board cruelly smack me in the shin a short time ago. Otherwise, she would have been right over here, checking on me.

"I'll live," I told Kristanna, before pointing out beyond her. "Now go. Go, woman." I smiled and added, "Go before that loud, banshee cry of Pamela's awakens any dead island spirits in the area!"

"Wow," Kristanna chuckled, her lips suddenly curled into a massive, toothy grin. "That loud, banshee cry? Wow." She hesitated for a brief moment, but then quickly advised me, "I'm going to tell Pamela you said that about her!"

"Oh, I'm sure you will," I reciprocated with a smile of my own, as Kristanna dove onto her surfboard and made her way out to Pamela. The two ladies were lost in a private and quiet talk, but they still managed to look my way and giggle regardless. An instant later, it came.

"JEREMY!" Pamela roared at me, stifling a laugh at the same time. Oh, I loved the playfulness of our marriage...

In my humble opinion, at least, there was no place on Earth quite like the romantic, little sun-drenched island that I owned (and once lived on for 16 years) in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Here one could find palm-fringed blue lagoons, lush rainforests, cascading waterfalls, soaring summits, a live volcano and beaches of nearly every hue - gold, red, black and even green.

Too gorgeous to be real, this stretch along the southern coast was one of the island's postcard-perfect beaches - a mile of golden sand as soft as powdered sugar bordering translucent turquoise waters. The waves here were moderate and excellent for swimming, snorkeling and, of course, surfing. A tiny offshore islet completed the picture, serving as both a scenic backdrop and a bird sanctuary.

We were in the middle of our 10-day vacation which offered our family the opportunity to return to the roots of our relationship - this island - and revel in not only its sheer beauty and remarkable grandeur, but also the many, joyous memories we had here.

I had chosen to devote this particular afternoon and evening to (in my eyes, at least) the two most unique and captivating women in the whole, wide world, Kristanna and Pamela. Oh, please do not misinterpret what I say here. My other four wives - Devon, Trish, Lindsay and Amy, as well as my fiancee (Scarlett) were all incredibly special and unique in their own right. They all meant everything to me.

Kristanna and Pamela, though, were on their own plateau. They had their own stratosphere in my book. What more could I possibly ask for than spending the entire day exploring the island and dabbling in its countless treasures with Kristanna and Pamela by my side for every step of the way?

Still holding my shin, I looked out at Frick and Frack (an odd, yet funny nickname I gave them long ago) as they now seemed too involved with each other to remember that I was with them as well. It was okay, really. Kristanna had earlier volunteered to give Pamela, a total novice, a few surfing lessons here at the beach. Their happy smiles and squeals of glee were incredibly touching and heartwarming, and helped me temporarily forget the massive struggles our family had been through in recent times (Trish's father passing and Amy's subsequent hospitalization).

Pamela tried to stand on her surfboard in the open water, but she clumsily tumbled over like a house of cards falling down, and made a big splash. When she re-surfaced, her and Kristanna shared a hearty giggle and even hugged each other. Indeed, I had faith that our group would pull through this rough stretch and come out even stronger in the long run. Moments like this only helped reinforce my beliefs.

I noticed that off to the side, near the edge of the beach in an area which featured lava-rock tide pools, a group of green sea turtles were basking in the sand, while others were bobbing about in the clear water. In recent years, green sea turtles had become an endangered species, and as a result, were protected globally. I was happy that for at least this particular group, the island offered them a safe and peaceful refuge just as it had done for our family.

"Hey you!" Pamela greeted, drawing my attention away from the wildlife, as she paddled her way up to me on her surfboard and pecked my lips with a kiss. Then, just as quickly, Pamela turned around and went right back out to Kristanna. When both soon looked back at me and waved, my heart literally melted. What had I done to deserve such a charmed life?

----

I smelled the sweet fragrance of plumeria and listened to the wind rustle around us as I drove my trusty, old island vehicle, a 1987 Jeep Wrangler, through a trail in the bamboo forest as Kristanna and Pamela huddled in the backseat. Our afternoon of fun and delight was not over; I was taking the girls to perhaps their most favorite location on the entire island, a little spot known by the name of Devon Falls.

Christened with that monicker in June 2013 as a tribute to a beautiful and extremely special woman in her own right, Devon Falls was a 150-foot waterfall that spilled into a big, round natural pool that was surrounded by wild ginger. There was a whooshing vortex at the bottom. It was caused by the plummeting funnel of water that spiraled from so high above.

The rest of the pool was as clear as cellophane, enabling us to see down into the rocky bottom. Fronds of forest-green plants waved gently in the depths. The waterfall looked like a sheet of blue velour as it swished down. Its edges were hemmed with whipped-white lines. The water here was often bubbling and appeared quite hot at first glance, but it was actually very cool and chilly. Tall palm trees and other lush greenery added to the tropical feel.

Once we arrived, Kristanna and Pamela hopped out of the Jeep and quickly shed their colorful sarongs. The two split a bottle of drinking water, downing it completely, before grasping hands and taking a brave plunge into the cold depths of the waterfall's basin. They squealed and screeched in the aftermath, but I knew their bodies would adjust to the temperature soon enough. After all, it would be incredibly difficult to find any sort of lingering discomfort or pain on a day this fun and magical. All one had to do was look at me, and my poor, bruised shin. I had forgotten about it!

I worked on a bottle of fruit punch as Kristanna and Pamela invariably began to frolic and play in the water. They were especially wound up and rambunctious today, which was good. Gentle hair pulling and wrestling was all in good fun, but things took a more serious turn (although, not really) once Kristanna ripped at Pamela's bikini top, and tore it off.

"KRISSY!" Pamela roared, her eyeballs almost ready to burst from their sockets. When Kristanna turned and swam away in retreat, Pamela's all-natural and wondrous, 38d-sized breasts bounced and flopped about in the water as she went after her. I watched them both curl around the thundering waterfall, only to then vanish from sight beyond it. There was a small cave directly behind the waterfall as, luck would have it, was the perfect size to comfortably fit three people.

It may have been two years since our group last visited here, but the Tarzan swing I concocted in 2001 still looked to be quite sturdy and intact. I went over to the little rock incline at the edge of the pool and grabbed the thick rope, only to swing out with all my might and splash down with a thud mere seconds later in the water 50 feet away.

Well, it was definitely cold and chilly - much more so than even I remembered. Still, I toughed it out, not showing any outward or visible signs that I was, at least for the time being, very uncomfortable. I began to swim toward the aforementioned cave, playing it smart and avoiding the heavy, unforgiving direct torrent of the 150-foot waterfall.

When I entered the alcove, Kristanna and Pamela were seated together on the dry stone ledge in the back with their legs dangling in the water. The two were cuddled together tightly and shivering, but I could not help but to smile as Kristanna was now topless as well. Her bikini top (and this was poetic justice) was ripped and shredded, and floating in the cave just a few feet from them. Good for Pamela!

Unable to hide the fact any longer that I too, was cold, Kristanna extended her left arm toward me, and Pamela her right, then I nestled in between them and suddenly we were sharing a trifecta hug. We shook and tremored together without a word for a good three or four minutes until our bodies finally warmed up, and we felt comfortable.

----

"You worry too much about Piper whenever you are away from her," Kristanna, who was seated in the water in front of us a short time later, said to Pamela as she lovingly twirled a fingertip along her kneecap. "There is no need to worry about Piper, baby. Her and Kaden are in great hands right now with Lindsay and Scarlett. You know both of them love Lindsay to death, and Scarlett is a nurse who deals with newborns on a daily basis. Why do you worry so much?"

"I'm not worried," Pamela fretted.

"Yes, you are!" Kristanna insisted, even kissing her on the kneecap for emphasis. "If there was one teeny, tiny thing wrong, Lindsay and Scarlett would call us immediately. You need to relax, Pamela, and know that Piper is, outside of you and Jeremy, in the best of hands right now." Kristanna turned her attention toward me, those translucent blue eyes of hers literally flashing. "When are YOU finally going to get Lindsay pregnant, Jeremy? You know she wants a baby bad."

I shook my head and held back a laugh. "You ask me that very same question every day, sweetheart. When will I get Lindsay pregnant? Trish wants to become pregnant too." I paused, then smiled. "It's a work in progress - trust me."

Pamela glanced over at me and giggled. "You're not shooting blanks, are you, Jeremy?"

"I think both you and I know that's not the case at all," I returned in a deep, solid tone, trying to defend myself.

As usual, Kristanna was beaming. She truly was the epicenter of happiness. "Lindsay already has names picked out for her first-born child. A girl, Kaylee Janae. A boy, Donald Jackson. How awesome is that she wants to name her first boy after her father?"

Pamela frowned. "You know how much she misses her dad." Pamela quickly perked up though, saying, "Kaylee Janae is a really pretty name for a girl." She shivered theatrically, then crinkled her nose. "I just cannot imagine Lindsay being nine months pregnant. She is so small, and tiny - not even 100 pounds. I bet you that she turns out to be one of those girls who only gains 10 or 15 pounds at the height of her pregnancy." Pamela shook her head. "Wish I was that way."

"You look better now than you ever have before," Kristanna told Pamela. "You lost all of your pregnancy weight and then some, and you're in the best shape - both physically and especially emotionally - of your entire life right now."

"You look great," I said to Pamela, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and kissing the side of her head.

"Oh, I'm not complaining about now," she clarified. "I am referring to the struggles I had after Piper was born."

"Well, you don't have to get pregnant again, baby, if you don't want to," Kristanna reminded her. "That decision is up to you. I know you don't want to risk going through what you went through last year. I understand completely."

"But..." Kristanna hesitated, then smiled brightly. "I would like for you to get pregnant again, Pamela. This time, I will be with you for every step of the way after your next baby is born. I will NOT allow to happen to you what happened when Piper was born. I will not allow it!"

"Oh, Krissy..." Pamela moaned in response, momentarily becoming emotional at those words, then leaning over and offering her wife a gracious, thankful hug. "I know you would take care of me, and look after me, as best you could. I know it." Their embrace over, Pamela sniffed her nose and glanced my way for an instant. "I know Jeremy would, too."

"Of course," I nodded.

"So when are YOU getting pregnant again?" Pamela asked Kristanna, turning the tables slightly.

Kristanna looked up at me and offered a simple shrug of the shoulders. "Anytime Jeremy wants to put another baby inside of me, I will be ready for it."

When I groaned at those words - my work would never be done! - Pamela frowned once more and placed a sympathetic hand upon my shoulder. "Oh ... we cannot run Jeremy ragged and thin like this, Krissy. I think the next two should be Lindsay, then Trish. They both deserve to have a baby. After that, we will figure out who is next."

"Devvy and Scarlett have already been talking about being mothers too one day," Kristanna mused. Another epic smile came to her face as she said, "Devvy would be a GREAT mommy!" Then, all of a sudden, Kristanna suddenly went into lyrical song and belted out in a verse, "Pammy's so full of sun ... shine, because she takes it in the beeeee-hind."

"Hey!" Pamela scolded Kristanna with a spirited punch to the shoulder, laughing.

As I sat by and listened to that little exchange, I began to think of Devon and the comment that she was about to make yesterday afternoon when she and I were having a discussion. The comment was about Kristanna and, uncharacteristically for Devon, it was going to be a negative one about her beloved wife. Kristanna showed up, though, effectively hushing the topic and (unknowingly) forcing us to move onto something else. Devon did not want Kristanna to hear her say anything negative or detrimental about her.

The past week-and-a-half had been especially trying for our family, obviously, and was a test of its will and resolve. Basically, Devon insinuated that some of the ladies in our relationship were not giving me the utmost attention and care as it dealt with the tragedy and turmoil we had faced.

Was Devon referring to just one or, more likely, multiple women? Did she lump Pamela in that mix? Lindsay? Scarlett?

Surely, she was not referring to Trish and/or Amy. Trish was still picking up the pieces of her shattered heart in the wake of her father's sudden and horrific death. Trish had put on a good face in recent days, but it was readily apparent that she still felt hurt and extremely vulnerable. After all, could anyone really blame her? And Amy? Amy had been in the hospital with a serious scare for not only our unborn child, but her own health as well. Amy was still settling down from it, too, and would probably need at least a few more days until she was truly back to normal.

Lindsay had a lot to deal with because she was closer with Trish than anyone else. The two were kindred spirits, so to speak, and the fact Lindsay lost her own father in an unexpected manner two-and-a-half years ago now added to their bond. Lindsay was tunneling Trish, indeed, but that did not mean she was ignoring me or whatever issues I was dealing with. In essence, Lindsay was right to focus on Trish. At the same time, however, Lindsay was not neglecting me in the slightest - nor was she Amy, either, for that matter.

Was Devon about to name Pamela during our conversation? Scarlett? There was no way she could have mentioned Scarlett. Scarlett was the one woman who had really stepped up from the group and helped me assess my own thoughts and feelings.

"I just think ... I think ... I don't like it, Jeremy, that some of the girls seemingly forgot about you, and your feelings, this week. I ... maybe I am imagining all of this, I do not know, but it just does not seem right to me. And one person I am especially disappointed in is Kri..."

Multiple women or not, it was fairly obvious to me that one woman Devon was definitely referring to was Kristanna. She was about to say so, in fact, before Kristanna appeared literally out of nowhere, thus cutting the thought off.

I disagreed with Devon.

Kristanna's focus was always going to be on the family as a whole, but I wholeheartedly believe - no, I know - that the driving force behind everything she did was her unequaled love and devotion for me. Kristanna loved me more than anything or anyone (and I am not afraid to say the feeling was mutual). We did our best to keep this under wraps as a way not to cause any jealousy and/or animosity throughout our marriage, but everyone honestly knew how strongly Kristanna and I felt for each other, and I believed they were all fine with it. It was the same as Trish openly admitting to anyone who asked her that Lindsay was her true centerpiece in life. We all understood, and were fine with it. No jealousy.

Clearly, it had been a rough stretch for me. It is not easy, as a husband, to attend the funeral of your wife's father. I was pretty shaken up, indeed, because Dani Grace was my unborn child too, and for awhile she was in grave peril. This past week-and-a-half, in fact, easily goes down as the worst I have ever experienced in my life thus far.

Still, even I focused more on Trish and Amy than I did myself. Trish was the one who lost her father, not me. Amy needed to get herself right both physically and emotionally because she was the one carrying around Dani Grace - not me. Trish and Amy needed the focus now, the attention, the care.

Did I feel neglected at all? Left out in the cold? Did Devon believe that Kristanna was not paying me enough attention or courtesy throughout this family crisis? If so, Devon was wrong. I would tell her that, too. In fact, I planned on doing so at the earliest opportunity.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 07



Kristanna was always there for me no matter what. It was an unspoken fact. Yet, Trish and Amy needed more help and attention than I did right now. Kristanna followed suit.

Kristanna was the glue that held our family together. She was not only its architect, but also its foundation and ultimate heartbeat. Kristanna was the one who orchestrated all of this from the ground-up and made our amazing lifestyle possible. She was also our family's self-appointed caregiver and matriarch. Whenever there was an issue, Kristanna would invariably rise to the occasion and take care of it.

If not for Kristanna, I would most assuredly still be living on this island - alone - just as I had from 1997 to 2013. 16 very long and lonely years of pure isolation could very well have been 18 by now. I definitely would not be married to six different women if not for Kristanna, with a seventh waiting in the wings.

The possible ripples and their effects here are endless. If not for Kristanna, Lindsay may have lost their childhood home by now, and who knows what shape her mother and three sisters would be in. Amy would be so far down the path of self-destruction by now that no amount of medicine or therapy could possibly save her. Trish would be living and working in Canada, but probably still be unattached and wondering why all of her same-aged friends are settled down and thinking of having children (if they have not already) - and not her.

Pamela? Oh my God, words could never describe just exactly how much Pamela despised being an exotic dancer. If not for Kristanna, Pamela would still be dancing in Maryland. I do not even want to think about that. Devon would still be wasting away in Pennsylvania, working 70 to 80 hours per week at a job with little to no opportunity for advancement.

As these thoughts swirled throughout my mind, reaffirming my faith and devotion for Kristanna to an even greater extent, I glanced over at her as she and Pamela were discussing which flowers they should pick today and bring home to the others as gifts. I became temporarily transfixed upon Kristanna and she soon noticed, brushing a clump of wet hair away from her eyes and smiling sweetly. It was the same innocent, red-faced look that a young girl would typically have when she noticed a boy she liked admiring her from across the way.

It was also all the validation I needed. Kristanna would never neglect me or my feelings. She was too much in love.

----

At the very western tip of the island was a series of jagged sea cliffs, deep gulches, sand dunes, dying plant life and a remote wind- and surf-battered shoreline. It offered the most brilliant and dazzling sunset view, but was not accessible by vehicle. This was the next stop on our itinerary. It would also prove to be the most challenging.

We exited the Jeep at the foot of the five-mile hiking trail that would take us alongside the western ledge and offer a spectacular view of the sun as it literally sank into the Pacific amongst a blaze of glorious colors. After packing plenty of water and snacks, a first aid kit and other necessities, Kristanna, Pamela and I began trekking our way up the path. We had brought along extra clothing, so Kristanna and Pamela did not have to go about our hike topless (although them doing so was an intriguing idea to me).

The trail along the cliff passed tide pools abundant in marine life and rugged protrusions of lava reaching out to the turbulent ocean, with seabirds circling overhead. There were no picturesque beaches on this little tip of the island; the water was typically unruly and harsh, even violent. The waves here could get as high as 30 or 40 feet and the ocean, even when it appeared calm, was not safe to swim in due to the powerful and unforgiving currents underneath.

This place was not safe and when we lived here in the past, I actually informed all the ladies they were not allowed to come here unless I was with them. It was a steadfast rule. As for now, we were back on the island for the first time in 18 months, and Kristanna flat-out insisted on getting to watch the sunset from here at least once before we returned to Norway this coming Saturday. How could I deny her?

The trail was quite strenuous; it was eroded in several places and slippery when wet - which was all the time. We had to cross the dunes two miles inward, then traverse some 1,300 feet up the cliff. Through a series of tree-covered gulches, we finally reached our reward - the awe-inspiring, pristine view of the Pacific Ocean atop the wind-swept perch.

By this time, the sun was already setting, and there were just a few precious clouds visible in the sky. The seagulls were still squawking and squabbling over scraps of food, their raucous cries loud and brash in the faltering light. The sun itself was a bright, ember red, but kept bowing down further until night was here, and the sky suddenly looked like a black, velvet ceiling with sprinkles of dream dust everywhere.

Let the record state that I was against the idea of staying atop the cliff until it was pitch-dark outside. It would only make our return hike to the Jeep all the much more difficult and hazardous, but both Kristanna and Pamela insisted, and I was powerless to deny them (and their charms).

Using high-powered flashlights to see, the three of us took our time and held hands as we slowly but surely returned to the head of the trail. At one point Kristanna slipped and skinned her knee, drawing blood and tearing her spandex legging in the process. It stung her a bit, but was thankfully nothing major. I was able to stop the bleeding and clean the wound, then swabbed it with iodine and bandaged it up. When we got back to the mansion, I was going to ask Scarlett - our medical expert and registered nurse - to look at Kristanna's knee.

----

"How's your knee? Is it okay?"

Those were the first words from Trish - directed at Kristanna, of course - as she walked into the mansion alongside Pamela and yours truly. Obviously, Trish had been eavesdropping on us throughout the day by way of the voyeur room. I figured others had joined her there, too.

Walking with a slight limp, Kristanna winced and told her, "I'll be fine. I'm a big girl."

"Where is Piper?" Pamela immediately asked.

"Piper and Kaden are in the master bedroom with Lindsay and Scarlett," Trish answered. "They are watching cartoons, and having a wonderful time together."

"Come on," Pamela said to not only me, but Kristanna as well, tugging on my hand and trying to pull me toward the direction of the master bedroom. She was clearly having a bad case of Piper withdrawal.

I was tired and sore after our long and adventurous day out, and needed a shower badly, but nonetheless allowed Pamela to drag me off with her. Kristanna followed suit. I admit, I was experiencing Piper withdrawal too - as well as Kaden withdrawal. Remember, I was the parent of both babies - not one, like Kristanna and Pamela. What about my third child, yet-to-be-born Dani Grace and her mother, Amy? I figured that Amy must be elsewhere in the mansion right now. Perhaps she was spending time with Devon?

Moments later, Pamela had Piper swaddled up in a blanket and was lovingly rocking her in her arms in a lounge chair, while Kristanna reclined on the bed. Her right pant leg pulled up to her thigh, Kristanna swatted hands and played with Kaden as Scarlett sat on the floor, examining her knee. Scarlett noted there was a moderate bruise, then applied more medication and changed the dressing, but promised us that Kristanna would be perfectly fine and healed up in no more than two to three days. That was reassuring news.

Now even more tired and nearing exhaustion - hey, I am not near as young and energetic as I once was - I rested on the floor comforter. I found the most solace from none other than Lindsay, though, who sat beside me and offered my neck, shoulders, back and chest area a 15 minute massage that made a lot of those negative feelings just wash away. Her tender, loving hugs and gentle kisses were quite therapeutic as well. Lindsay could tell that I was not at my best.

"Let's get you into the shower," Lindsay said to me, "then get some food into you. Amy made plenty of left-overs. After that, you're going straight to bed."

"Honey, I'm not in the mood to play in the shower..."

Lindsay gave me a good-natured smack upside the head, then giggled. "You think I want to get you into the shower for sex? I am going to scrub and wash you, Jeremy ... that is all. You're dead on your feet after everything you did today." She stood up, then tugged at my arm. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. It will make you feel much, much better."

"Can I join in too, baby?" Pamela asked Lindsay, leaning forward in her chair while still clutching Piper close to her. "Would you mind me giving me a scrub-down, too?"

"You're more than welcome to join," Lindsay smiled at her.

"I'll keep an eye on Piper for you," Scarlett offered.

I stood naked in the shower, my eyes closed, warm droplets from the overhead nozzle hitting my skin and forming billowing clouds of steam. I did not move a muscle, nor did I have to. As Lindsay stood just outside of the shower, with her sleeves rolled up and a pair of pink shorts on, scrubbing my neck with a hand-held foamer, Pamela was totally nude and on her knees in the stall with me, her own hands scouring the full length of each of my legs with a soapy washcloth. I should have known that Pamela would be aiding Lindsay in helping me freshen up, instead of receiving this royal treatment herself.

"I bet you feel much better already," Lindsay swooned, dousing the top of my head with a heavy helping of shampoo. I sighed, but my eyes stayed closed, as she busily worked her fingers and weaved them across my scalp.

Still on her knees in front of me, Pamela reached around my body and scrubbed my waistline and lower back, and my hips. Of course, this led to Pamela wrapping my semi-hard cock in the washcloth, then sliding it back-and-forth. One could say it was a sexual motion on her part, but her only real intent was to help clean and polish me up. Still, I got more than a bit of a rise, so to speak, out of it.

When Pamela let out a happy and content squeal, I finally opened my eyes and watched as Lindsay was now leaning into the shower, kissing her. I smiled leisurely at the sight of their soft, velvety lips pressed together, their tongues gliding together as one. A moment later, Lindsay lathered Pamela's own hair up with a massive dose of shampoo.

As things ultimately turned out, after Pamela and I were thoroughly rinsed, we simply pulled Lindsay into the shower with us - her hoodie jacket and pink shorts still on - and brought her into our dual embrace. She protested and whined at first, but quickly relented as Pamela and I stood there and did nothing but dote and cherish on her to no end. In no time flat, Lindsay was literally purring like a kitten.

What made for the perfect capper to this day and evening, though, was when the lovely and vivacious Kristanna - hobbled knee and all - stepped into the washroom totally nude herself, and joined the three of us in the shower. Now locked in a four-way embrace that lasted for 10 minutes, without a single word spoken between us, I realized that as the hot steam enveloped our bodies, my life truly was Heaven on Earth...

End of Chapter 7



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 08



Chapter 8: Promise

-- Tuesday, June 2, 2015 --

"Good God, Amy," I moaned, my insides swirling with mad passion and desire. "You look fantastic!"

Standing in front of me, Amy giggled like a schoolgirl and put both hands behind her back in response, then twirled a high-heeled foot about upon the lush carpet beneath her. It took some doing on my part, but I was finally able to convince my wife, who was six months pregnant, to try on an elegant and sexy maternity dress that Scarlett picked out for her two weeks ago when we were still in Norway.

Wearing a stretch lace maternity dress that was a bold, candy color of mandarin orange, Amy looked downright adorable as the fabric flexed and hugged every sweet contour of her heavenly body. Amy's breasts appeared as if they may just burst out of the material at any given moment. She was a natural D-cup, but her breasts had swelled significantly in the past few months due to her pregnancy. In a single word, they looked outstanding. The snug-fitting dress squished them both together in a truly exotic fashion, of course, but what I found the most viewing pleasure out of was the full, gentle curve of Amy's blossoming belly.

First it was Kristanna, then Pamela and now Amy. Every single time one of my precious wives have become pregnant and advanced through its later stages, I found them to be more radiant and beautiful than at any point throughout our entire relationship. I do not know exactly why, but I found all three of them to be incredibly attractive while pregnant.

In the blink of an eye, an expectant woman's body tells a fundamentally happy story of conjugal love and affection. With the aim of conceiving a child, she has shared her body with a man she loves, and she now she shares it with a child she loves. That idea resonated very powerfully with me.

Perhaps it was the unmistakable glow that every pregnant woman has (even if she does not realize it) that piqued my interest. To me, a pregnant woman was one of the most awe-inspiring and natural things in the whole, wide world.

It still blew my mind that a gorgeous woman such as Amy was carrying my child. That simple fact by itself made Amy (and Kristanna and Pamela before her) a million times more appealing to me than normal, both physically and emotionally.

"I feel like I'm a gestating a small house!" Amy whined at me, albeit playfully and with a smile. No one was happier (not even me) that she was pregnant than Amy herself.

I could not help it, but both of my hands reached out and gently rubbed Amy's stomach. I simply enjoyed the amazing feeling that there was a little life growing inside of there - our daughter, Dani (Danielle) Grace - and, more importantly, I had helped create it. Yet, I was also very aroused.

"Honey, you look so incredibly hot with that dress on..."

Amy was beaming and obviously quite happy with my stream of compliments, but her expression quickly turned sour when she glanced toward her right side here in the master bedroom of our estate on the island. "Were you given permission to peek and look back at us?" Amy snapped, her tone of voice harsh. "Now put your nose in that corner, and don't move it!"

"I'm sorry, Amy," Lindsay returned in a hushed, timid tone, doing her best to comply with orders. Off to the side, Lindsay stood just where Amy had told her to stand moments ago, in the corner with her nose stuffed against it. She had on a cute, little form-fitting beige tank-top, but her denim shorts were pulled down to her knees and her sweet, indelible ass was covered by a small pair of purple bikini panties. She stood in the corner with her back to us.

"Put your hands above your head like a good submissive," Amy then instructed her. Lindsay's hands had been dangling at her sides, but she quickly lifted them up in an adorable, little gesture as if she was praying to the wall.

"Do you know WHY you are going to be punished, Lindsay?"

Role-playing her part to perfection, Lindsay squeaked as if she was a little mouse in answering, "I've been bad?"

"And what happens to bad girls?"

"They get spanked."

"Oh yes," Amy nodded. "They most definitely do."

This did not happen all that often anymore, but I was allowing Amy to dabble with the aggressive and dominant nature which had once been linchpins of her personality on this dark and dreary, rainy afternoon. Lindsay was the perfect foil for Amy in this situation, too. Lindsay was more naturally submissive and subservient than any woman in our group, and she literally jumped at the chance for a fun and spirited, slightly rough-house role-playing session.

"Please don't spank me," Lindsay protested in vain, as Amy went over to her and slipped an arm around her back. Rest assured, Lindsay welcomed whatever Amy (as well as myself) was going to do to her. She was just playing a defiant role at the moment. It continued - Lindsay put up a little struggle (though, not really) as Amy pulled her over to the high-back chair just in front of the bed.

Amy glanced at the chair for a moment, then her pregnant belly. "As much as I want Lindsay over my knee, Jeremy," Amy said to me, "maybe it's best that she go over yours instead. What do you you think?"

"Oh, that can be arranged," I responded in a matter-of-fact tone, my eyes now locked upon the beguiling, feisty blonde.

"Please don't spank me, Jeremy!" Lindsay wailed at me. "Oh God, please don't! I promise to be a good girl from now on!"

I sat down in the chair and promptly pulled Lindsay across my lap. Her adorable, picture-perfect ass, with the purple panties, was sprawled across my lap and squirmed deliciously at the fate which soon awaited it.

"Please, Jeremy," Lindsay again begged. "I'll be a good girl! Please don't spank me!"

"You WILL be a good girl," Amy told her, "because Jeremy and I are going to teach you the lesson that you deserve."

Amy slowly but surely dropped down to one knee just on the other side of Lindsay, then dug a trio of fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and slid them downward. Lindsay squealed in protest, her face hotter than a three-alarm fire, as Amy nudged the panties to her knees with the denim shorts.

"Hold the legs of the chair," Amy instructed her. "I do not want your hands behind you, trying to protect your ass. You're going to take your punishment like a good girl should."

"But I didn't do anything wrong!" Lindsay pouted, her fingers nonetheless coiling themselves around the legs of the chair and holding on tight. Perhaps involuntarily, Lindsay then arched her little ass skyward - literally offering it on a platter to Amy and yours truly.

Amy placed a hand upon Lindsay's backside and stroked it lovingly. "Oh yes, this ass belongs to us today! Jeremy and I are going to punish and discipline it, Lindsay, for your own good. You WILL learn your lesson today."

"But I didn't do anything wrong!"

Amy grabbed a heavy clump of Lindsay's free-flowing hair and snapped, "Do you want me to gag you?"

Lindsay broke character - if just for a few seconds - in smiling back, "You can gag me with Jeremy's cock..."

Amy's right hand left Lindsay's bottom, but came crashing down shortly thereafter with a hard, forceful slap. Lindsay yelped in response and began to squirm and writhe about upon my lap. Another blow landed in the same place but only with greater impact. Two scarlet handprints were already visible upon her vulnerable, exposed backside. Much to her credit, Lindsay strained her fingers and hands to keep them secured and tight around the legs of the chair.

Amy spanked Lindsay again and again, going at a terribly slow pace that seemed intent to show her that she must learn to accept a disciplinary session as long as Amy thought it should last. Amy spent about a minute peppering the middle of her ass, then another blasting its right side with her palm.

"Hold. This. Still." That was the stern warning from Amy as Lindsay now squirmed uncontrollably upon my trusting lap, though her hands were still wrapped around the legs of the chair. Amy then concentrated on the other half of Lindsay's backside, turning its skin a bright shade of red. Before long, Lindsay was groaning wildly.

Keep in mind, this was more play than anything - even for Lindsay. We would never hurt her, nor was she in any extreme pain or danger. The spanking Amy delivered was not too harsh; it could have, in fact, been a lot worse. Judging by the pain tolerance she displayed in the past during BDSM play, I would wager that Lindsay would have enjoyed it if we were more forceful and extreme with her.

"I'm sorry, Amy!" Lindsay babbled. "I'm so, so sorry! I promise to be a good girl and behave from now on!"

"That's good," Amy nodded, finally pulling back and ending the spanking at last. She giggled and added, "I know you don't mean it, but at least it's nice to hear that you CLAIM that you are going to be good and obedient from now on."

"I will," Lindsay promised, breathing heavily, as Amy's firm hand tenderly caressed and soothed her aching backside.

Amy pointed at the silken joining between Lindsay's thighs, then smiled at me with wicked intent. Lindsay's pussy was already soaking wet. I cupped it in my fingers and began playing with it, stroking it up and down, over and around, until she let out a choking sob of pure submissive arousal.

"Jeremy is going to fuck you very soon," Amy told Lindsay. "You're going to get off of his lap right now and go to the bed without pulling up your panties or your denim cut-offs."

"Oh my..." Lindsay whispered in response.

"Then you are going to take off all of your clothes, take the quilt off of the bed, and kneel on it. Then you will put your face down to the mattress, to offer Jeremy both your pussy and your ass. You can hold a pillow if you want, Lindsay. Jeremy will be there to fuck you very, very soon."

When Lindsay turned and glanced up at me, I even went into dominant mode myself. "Get going," I instructed her. "Get on the bed with your ass facing the door."

Lindsay's blue eyes went wide. She looked irresisitible in her beige tank-top, with her shorts and panties bunched around her knees. The young woman rose from my lap and rubbed her aching bottom, then turned and shuffled toward the bed. She stood at it for a brief moment and stared, then both of her hands slid downward and she gently pushed her fingers against her clitoris. She actually began rubbing herself right in front of us!

"Oh my God," Lindsay moaned.

"Off with your clothes!" Amy demanded.

On Lindsay's face now, as she pulled off her beige tank-top and let it fall to the floor, and then began to unhook her purple bra to show her taut, little breasts with the tiny rosebud nipples, was a look of pure desire. Her back to us, she then tugged her shorts and panties all the way off.

"Now get on the bed."

Lindsay stood completely naked with her knees touching the side of the mattress. She took the comforter and top sheet off, then climbed onto the bed in an adorable, awkward way that reminded me of a baby kitten. She took a nearby pillow and hugged it to her humble breasts, then bent at the waist and put her face completely down until it was upon the mattress. She arched her back and jutted her ass skyward, proudly presenting both it and her pussy to both of us.

"Now you stay there, Lindsay, and hold that position until told otherwise," Amy said, reaching for my belt and pulling it off. "I'm going to suck Jeremy's cock and get him hard now. You are NOT. To. Move. A. Muscle."

"Yes ma'am," she said softly to the pillow she held close.

Amy glanced at Lindsay for several more seconds, but soon turned and focused all of her attention upon me. She moved into a seated position on her knees in front of me, then reached into my shorts and pulled my cock out. It got even harder in her expert grip, then she leaned over and took me into her mouth in one easy, full swoop.

I tossed my head back and growled in total satisfaction. My angelic six-month pregnant bride, Amy, was perched in front of me, with her lovely mandarin orange dress on, as she orally serviced my thick, aching erection. At the same time, another of my six wives - Lindsay - was curled up and on her elbows and knees upon the bed, completely naked, holding a pillow tight to her breasts with her head on the mattress. There was an expression of longing across her face as she dutifully watched Amy's red head bounce up-and-down over my shaft.

"That's it, honey," I encouraged Amy. "Hold my cock with your hand and lick around it. Oh God ... swirl your tongue around it. That's it, baby. That's it..."

Amy took the tip of my erection back into her mouth and sealed her lips tightly around it. The 32-year-old looked so incredibly hot in her elegant dress, her baby bump big, her green eyes obediently gazing back at me. She began to move her head forward and back, sliding my cock in-and-out of her mouth in a quick, frenzied motion.

"Can I have some, Amy?" Lindsay pleaded, even licking her lips in anticipation. "Can I suck his cock, too?"

"What have you DONE to deserve to suck Jeremy's cock?"

"AMY!" Lindsay snapped, temporarily breaking character. She did not appreciate that comment one bit.

"Faster with your hand," I told Amy, ignoring Lindsay for now. I would see to it that Lindsay was taken care of soon enough. As for now, Amy stroked me with her hand as her hair swayed back-and-forth in rhythm with her oral thrusts.

"Take it out, Amy," I growled at her. "Do it now!"

Amy opened her mouth wide and I pulled out of her. I fisted my cock with my right hand and held it to her face. The first squirt of semen flopped onto her cheek, running down the side of her nose and then dripping to the floor. Amy giggled and closed her eyes as another burst splattered across her forehead. Sperm was quickly dribbling down either side of her face as I used the very tip of my shaft like a paintbrush to smear the creamy goodness all over her lips. All the while, my insides were ablaze with heated desire.

"I only wanted to get you hard so you could fuck Lindsay," Amy said, sneering. "But you came all over me."

"I couldn't help myself," I told her breathlessly.

"I wanted to suck his cock!" Lindsay sadly mewed in the background. "Why didn't you let me, Amy?"

"Do I have to gag you?" Amy shot back at her, but with a playful tent in her voice. "Stop being so needy! I will take your panties, Lindsay, ball them up real nice and tight, and stuff them in your mouth if you do not start behaving."

"Hmmmph!" Lindsay huffed in response.

I took hold of Amy's chin and guided it until her gaze was in line with mine. Feeling as if she was now going a bit too far with her treatment of Lindsay, I decided to switch things up in telling her, "I want you to take your dress off, honey, and get on the bed with Lindsay ... and make out with her."

"What about Lindsay's punishment?"

"Do as I tell you," I returned, and Amy immediately fell back into her own, usual submissive mode. "I love that dress on you, baby, but you would look even better with it off."

Lindsay was already sitting up upon the bed, on her knees, and tugging at the zipper on the back of Amy's form-fitting dress. "You're the one who deserves the spanking, Amy!" Lindsay pouted, tugging the lovely dress down her shoulders. That may or may not be true, but all of us had to be quite careful with Amy during sexual play because she was so well advanced in her pregnancy. She would not be spanked today.

"I love that color on you," Lindsay purred, as she and I took great care in peeling the dress over and across her baby bump. Once past Amy's hips, the dress fell harmlessly to the floor and she stood before us in a pair of matching orange panties. Lindsay held her hand as she helped Amy out of each of her modest, three-inch pumps.

"Get on the bed with Lindsay," I directed Amy. She took a seat on its edge and was immediately met by the sweet and bedazzling 20-year-old, who still held her hand while using the other to massage and caress Amy's overflowing, swollen breasts. Lindsay tenderly kissed her neck and shoulders, and gazed longingly into her eyes.

"You're so beautiful, Amy," Lindsay murmured, her hand now rubbing itself over and across her abdomen. "Oh my God, you are going to make a great mother for your baby girl. Little Dani Grace is going to be such a lucky girl!"

"You will be a great mother one day too, honey," Amy said.

Lindsay moved her mouth over Amy's, effectively hushing her for the time being, and slipped her tongue in for a delightful taste. She slid and worked her tongue throughout Amy's mouth for a good 45 seconds before finally withdrawing it.

"It's been almost two weeks since we've been together like this," Lindsay then commented, short of breath herself. She looked Amy directly in the eyes and mused, "Two long weeks since I have gotten to touch you, Amy, and be this close to you. And that's not fun ... for either of us."

"Oh, I agree," Amy nodded, embracing Lindsay warmly as her curious hands sampled various portions of her body - her neck and shoulders, her arms, her sides and back, and of course her breasts and that tight, spank-reddened ass. Before long, Amy attached her lips to one of Lindsay's pert nipples.

Her eyes closed, Lindsay sighed and arched her back sharply in arousal, but soon she focused her eyes elsewhere in the bedroom. Off to the side, I had taken a seat at the computer desk and was content (for now) simply to watch them.

"Come over here and join us," Lindsay encouraged me, even extending an arm in my direction as an olive branch of sorts.

"You two seem to be doing just fine without me for the time being," I responded, not flinching an inch. Indeed, I was fine for now. I wanted to watch Lindsay and Amy pleasure each other, then I would join the fray when the time was right. Until then, this was their show.

"Let me kiss you again," Amy told Lindsay, unable to control her urges, as she cupped her chin with her hand and then slid her mouth over hers one more time. I began to stroke my cock in the open air as I watched Amy literally try to devour Lindsay's mouth with her own.

"You are so precious," Amy whispered at Lindsay, whose hands were groping her breasts. She was squeezing quite roughly, pumping each globe into a heated, erotic frenzy. Amy stared at her and proclaimed, "I love you, baby."

"I love you too," Lindsay reciprocated, before stifling a giggle. "Even when you spank me for no reason whatsoever!"

Amy encircled her wife's body with both arms, then offered her another tongue-laced kiss. It certainly was no surprise that Lindsay's hands were still all over Amy. She was cupping and squeezing each of her breasts with wild, reckless abandon now, her tongue swishing and swirling like crazy upon Amy's somewhere in the midst of their frenetic, maddening kiss.

"That's it, baby," Amy moaned, as Lindsay suddenly slid her head downward, only to squish her face upon Amy's big, heaving breasts. Lindsay rumbled about, then sighed as she extended her tongue and offered Amy's deep, vast cleavage a long, leisurely swipe with her tongue.

"You like my breasts. Don't you, baby?"

Lindsay burrowed her face in even deeper and proclaimed, "I never want to leave here!"

Amy giggled once more as Lindsay really began to work her cleavage over with her lips and tongue. Cradling her head with both hands, Amy was purring like a kitten and beaming with absolute delight as Lindsay feasted away upon her body. Lindsay may have been the one cherishing Amy now, but rest assured, I had faith the tables would soon be reversed.

"That's it, baby. Oh yes. Use your tongue just the way you are. God, sweetheart. Your tongue feels so good..."

Lindsay switched positions slightly, gliding her face upward so she could offer Amy another full kiss on the lips. She made eye contact and they bumped noses yet again, then she swiped at Amy with her tongue. "Are you SURE the doctor said it is okay for you to have sex?" Lindsay asked Amy for perhaps the hundredth time today, wanting and needing confirmation. "Because in about another 20 or 30 seconds, I'm going to be so riled up, I won't be able to stop."




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 08



"Yes honey," Amy assured her, "I can have sex. I am back close to being 100 percent from the medical scare of a week-and-a-half ago. I feel fine ... trust me. We can't play too rough though, because of the baby."

Lindsay offered no resistance as Amy took her into her warm arms and rolled her over onto the comfortable mattress beneath them. They both moaned in unison as they shared a truly heated, monumental kiss, their tongues dancing in a blissful symphony. Not surprisingly, Lindsay was mauling Amy's breasts with both hands again. The chick was obsessed!

A moment later, Lindsay's entire body was shuddering with pure arousal as Amy splayed tender kisses all across her breasts, as well as her nipples. Now being overly loving and compassionate (unlike earlier during the discipline roleplay), Amy took one of Lindsay's tiny nipples into her mouth and sucked on it gently. Lindsay responded favorably; sighing, and arching her neck and back high off of the mattress.

Now cupping one of Lindsay's breasts with her right hand, Amy slowly trailed her tongue down her hot, quivering torso. She licked and swiped at Lindsay's midriff for several seconds, then stopped and planted a series of sweet kisses upon her abdomen. A short time later, Amy was tonguing her belly button, only to then proceed even lower.

"That's the prettiest pussy in the whole, wide world," Amy swooned as Lindsay's petite, slender body trembled with wanton, lucid desire beneath her.

"Do it, Amy," she begged her. "Please do it."

Before beginning to apply her tongue, Amy looked over the incredible beauty of the pussy that she was about ready to start dining on. Lindsay was a natural blonde and her skin down below was ivory white, with very pale, nearly invisible pubic hair. She preferred to be kept shaven; Trish and/or I would take care of that for her in another day or two, I promised myself. We usually did the special deed together.

Lindsay's pink slit was tightly closed, almost as if she was still a virgin, but her inner lips were visible as if they were just starting to blossom. How Lindsay had been able to maintain her tightness was beyond me! Her clitoris was hidden underneath its protective hood, but Amy knew that it would soon be swollen with lust, and she would then take it into her mouth and suck and lick it until she climaxed.

Very gently, Amy moved her fingers down to the edges of that slit and pulled them apart, only to be greeted by a cloud of delectable fragrance that she blatantly sniffed, and the sight of the pink lining, wet with juices that were the source of the aroma. 

Lindsay squealed and moaned in response as Amy's head then settled between her outstretched thighs. At first Amy planted more kisses across her lower abdomen, then the insides of her creamy, quivering thighs.

But when Amy's tongue made its first, initial contact with Lindsay's pussy, the 20-year-old let loose with a content sigh as her legs vibrated in the sensations. Amy smiled in return, then extended her tongue and gently lashed away at those very damp, tender folds in a slow, languid manner.

"Such a pretty pussy," Amy reiterated, her tongue constantly swirling and tasting. "So pretty, and so tight! Your whole body is one complete thing of beauty, baby. Oh wow..." she murmured, extending her tongue and licking the full length of her exposed slit. "I love you, baby."

"Oh my God..." Lindsay moaned, her eyes wide, both hands locked onto her own humble breasts as her body writhed and squirmed about. "Oh God, Amy ... that feels so good!" She then looked directly at her and ended, "I love you, too!"

Using those words as inspiration, Amy began to concentrate on her little Mount of Venus and then jabbed at her nub of a clitoris, which had already pushed its way out from beneath its hood, with her tongue. Immediately, her young, sensitive wife began to wail out in extreme, lustful pleasure. Amy had her right where she wanted her...

"Are you enjoying yourself, honey?"

"God, yes! YESSSSS!"

"Let's finish you off now, then."

Lindsay's entire body started to buck and churn about upon the bed in unspeakable passion as Amy really bore down on her pussy with her lips and tongue. Lindsay was thrashing about so wildly upon the bed that Amy had to place both hands onto her hips in an effort to hold her still. Amy jabbed at that clitoris with her tongue, teasing and toying with it, while Lindsay continued to shudder and vibrate beneath her in ultimate, wanton desire.

She really seemed to go off the deep end once Amy parted the luscious, delicate folds of her pussy with a pair of fingers, then inserted her tongue for a deep taste.

"OH GOD!" the Heaven-sent angel screamed out, her movements becoming too powerful and frenzied for Amy to handle. "OH MY GOD ... FIRE! I ... FIRE! FIRE! MY PUSSY IS ON FIRE!"

Amy withdrew her tongue from the sweet, silken depths of Lindsay's pussy, then focused on her clitoris once again. She swirled her tongue in mad, frantic circles around it, desperately wanting to bring Lindsay to a climax.

"OH MY GODDDDD!" Lindsay suddenly screamed, her thighs clenched tightly across Amy's probing head. She was always so expressive, and dramatic! "I'M ... IT'S ... OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The juices of joyous orgasm were flowing from Lindsay's pussy as if a river dam had burst. She was grabbing her breasts, squeezing them with all of her might, as her cries and screams of intense passion echoed throughout the room and ricocheted off the walls. Amy's tongue was lapping up the luscious fruits of her labor, and did not stop until Lindsay's little, overworked slit had finally run dry...

In the seconds following that wondrous orgasm, Amy moved up Lindsay's body and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. They glanced at each other and smiled once their kiss ended, then Amy placed the side of her face onto hers and laid down with her on the bed. What a truly memorable sight to witness!

"That was ... it was ... AWESOME..." Lindsay groaned.

Amy smiled and gave Lindsay, whose body was glowing with satisfaction, another kiss on the lips. "You are what is awesome, honey. You are! I love you so much!"

Amy only had a couple of seconds where she was able to bask in the aftermath of Lindsay's orgasm and the tranquil serenity that their togetherness had mutually created before she felt something really big, and pointy, on her face! Amy opened her eyes, but was temporarily blindsided as whatever this bulky thing was, it was now repeatedly slapping itself across her eyelids. This could only mean one thing...

"Looks like Jeremy finally decided to join us!" Lindsay announced with a giggle.

Amy moved her face and, with a smile of her own, glared up at me with (mock) angry eyes as I now incessantly smacked my cock upon her chin. I was totally and completely nude by now, and my shaft was standing out firm at full, erect attention. Her emerald green eyes then shifted to my cock and focused solely on it. Amy even licked her lips in anticipation, then opened her mouth...

Lindsay beat her to it!

Still resting upon her side, Lindsay propped her head up and took my throbbing erection into her hungry, greedy, little mouth. She stared up at me with an expression mixed with gratitude and lust, her glossy pink lips stretched to the max and struggling to fit all of my length inside of her.

"I'm going to show you a magic trick!" Lindsay exclaimed at me, full of carnal joy and delight, as she withdrew my shaft from her mouth. "I'm going to make your cock go POOF! I'm going to make it disappear!" With those words, Lindsay inhaled the full length of my bulging erection into her sweet mouth and down her greedy throat. Her lips were still stretched to their utmost and she nearly choked, but Lindsay took me like a pro regardless.

Lindsay let my shaft slide from her mouth, before licking it from tip to base, where her tongue began to mingle with Amy's. Lindsay and Amy proceeded to kiss each other as they both stroked me off together. Lindsay then broke the kiss and offered my cock to her beloved wife.

"Unlike you, Amy, I'm willing to share," she sneered.

Amy took my shaft into her own mouth and worked it over heavily as Lindsay kept pumping away at it with her hand. Lindsay then trailed that hand downward, and began to knead and twiddle away at my testicles with her fingertips. A moment later, the two ladies traded off again.

Lindsay engulfed my member in one, easy motion just like before, but this time, I reached down with both hands and placed them on either side of her blonde head. I began to furiously thrust my hips, driving my erection even deeper into the far reaches of her throat.

Lindsay actually did gag and choke now, but that did not necessarily mean that I should slow up or be more gentle with her. Quite the opposite, really. Lindsay wanted me to pummel her mouth during every blowjob, it seemed, and had told me on several occasions to never let up, no matter what.

Amy extended her tongue and swiped at my shaft as I continued to hammer it in-and-out of Lindsay's mouth. An instant later, Amy was the one choking on it! I rammed it hard and fast into her own mouth, grabbing a healthy clump of her red hair and proceeding with the very same motion.

Lindsay laced a series of kisses along Amy's face, but she could not resist the urge to take one of my sensitive, aching testicles into her mouth and slurp away on it. Amy glanced up at me and smiled knowingly as I snapped my head back and growled in total, unadulterated pleasure. She was well aware how much I truly enjoyed two women servicing my cock at once.

Suddenly with a different idea, I reached down and hooked my arms around Lindsay's slender waist and literally yanked her to her feet. She squealed wildly as I promptly took her over to the computer, turning her around and pushing her against it so her pelvis met the edge. Then I grasped her lower back and made her bend over, my raging passion making my movements somewhat rough, and forceful. Lindsay gasped as her naked breasts were squished against the hard oakwood, her little ass in the air, her legs straining to stay upright.

I kicked Lindsay's legs apart with my foot and proceeded to enter her from behind, my arrow-shaped and swollen member pressing against soft, moistened lips.

"God, you're tight!" I whispered at her, trying to catch my breath. Amy watched us from the side; my body must have looked so big and hulking compared to Lindsay's compact, 95 pound frame. "Tight and hot," I growled, "and perfect!"

I sighed as I gave one long, slow push, and moved into Lindsay. My hands soon came down upon her ass, cupping her cheeks, and I trusted into her - firm, but slow for now. In the adjacent mirror, I saw Lindsay's blue eyes grow wide as saucers as an absolute wave of lust just washed over her face.

"God, you're so tight, baby," I again told her.

I began with a slow, steady rhythm, my shaft thrusting back-and-forth in a languid motion, spreading Lindsay and stretching her, and stroking at her inner walls. This time it was Lindsay who snapped her head back in response, her long-flowing blonde hair whipping about wildly in the process. I grabbed a big clump and yanked hard on it.

I started to thrust faster, moving her a bit on the desk, and she groaned as her bare breasts rubbing against the wood. When I sped up more and thrusted even deeper into her, Lindsay balled a fist and pounded it upon the desk and howled out at the sensations. That only provoked me further.

I was now pounding myself into her with full, reckless abandon now. Lindsay was indeed tight and it was difficult, but I had nearly buried myself in her. Another thrust and I was at her absolute limit; Lindsay bit down hard on her fist at the wondrous sensation of being completely filled. A tiny squeak of pleasure escaped her as she glanced back over her shoulder at me, her eyes raging with mad desire.

"I'm going to fuck you every single day from now on," I suddenly roared at her, my words uncharacteristically crass and crude, my hips pistoning back-and-forth like a machine, "until there is a baby inside of you."

Lindsay's mouth went agape as she continued to stare back at me. She was writhing and bucking beneath me, grinding her ass against my pelvis. My thrusts were very quick and irregular now - I was seconds from orgasm, yet so was she - my testicles slapping hard and furiously upon her fully exposed, vulnerable ass. With a final burst of strength, I rammed myself into her one more time and then...

Both Lindsay and I screamed out at the top of her lungs in unison as I deposited hot, thick spurts of my man-seed into her, my fluid plastering her ripe, fertile cavern. Again and again, jet after, the rugged sensations causing Lindsay to flail and squirm in total delight.

It was enough to send Lindsay over the edge as well, her orgasm roaring outward from her very core, surging through her body and making every nerve ending singe with heated, raw pleasure. She cried out high and shrill before she shuddered beneath me, then began to settle down. I kept my cock buried in her even in the aftermath, wanting to ensure that she had collected every drop of my life-giving seed.

When I finally relinquished my grip on her and took a step back, Lindsay's body went limp and she literally melted like a stick of hot butter, slumping down and collapsing upon the floor in a satisfied heap. I had been quite aggressive with Lindsay - bending her over the desk and shouting obscenities into her ear as I violently took her from behind - but she enjoyed harsh, rough-house play like this. It turned her on.

As was often the case after such a frenzied coupling, I knelt down and lovingly caressed Lindsay's neck and shoulders. I knew that she was perfectly fine, but still needed to ask and get confirmation anyway. It was, very simply, my nature to do so. "You okay, princess? I didn't hurt you ... did I?"

After a slight hesitation, Lindsay shook her head at me.

I pulled the 20-year-old up into a seated position, then squeezed her hand. I glanced at Amy for an instant, then softly told Lindsay, "I promise, honey, I am going to get you pregnant. I know how much you want a baby. I know how much you DESERVE a baby." She nodded at me as I continued, "It is going to happen, Lindsay. It will. Trust me."

"I do trust you," she shivered.

Smiling, Amy got off of the bed and walked over to us. Lindsay immediately extended her hand, allowing Amy to use it as balancing point, as she then slowly sat down directly in front of us. Amy wrapped her arms around both of us, and we quickly reciprocated. Lindsay had a hand on Amy's belly and was gently patting it as she pecked her cheek with a soft, whispery kiss. I kissed Amy's forehead, then did the same for Lindsay. What an awesome, little moment!

"I just love everything about our family," Amy expressed. I certainly could not agree with her any more on that...

End of Chapter 8



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 09



Chapter 9: Memorialize

- Wednesday, June 3, 2015 -

Looking at her now, one would never guess that Trish was a mere eight days removed from having attended her father's funeral. Trish was vacationing here on the island with all of us, of course, but at this precise moment in time the 32-year-old Canadian princess was putting her body through its standard routine of exercise and fitness in the home gymnasium.

If she was ever feeling down or depressed, or simply not in the best of moods, Trish could always find her personal sanctuary - her safe haven - doing exercise. She had been a fitness enthusiast since her high school years, and was once employed as an instructor and personal trainer at a health club in her old hometown until two years ago. Only coming to the island and meeting us tore her away from that job.

Still, Trish was determined as ever to keep her chiseled, yet feminine physique, and maintain her healthy lifestyle with proper nutrition and exercise. She generally did some version of a workout every single day without fail, but really hit the gym hard four days each week for hours at a time. Today just happened to be one of those days.

Seated on a nearby bench and idly watching (i.e. admiring) her, I was fascinated as Trish stood in the middle of the fitness room - in her element, mind you - holding a long dumbbell at her waist, with two huge, massive round weights attached to either end of it.

Then, the process repeated itself again. Trish bent at the waist, thrusting her hips outward and flexing her knees, until the upper half of her body was at a 90 degree angle. Every muscle within her body strained, some of them rippling before my very eyes, as the heavy weights she held were now positioned around her shins. An instant later, Trish stood up erect and straight again - the dumbbell aligned at her waistline now. And once more, the process repeated itself.

"Now what is that called ... what you are doing?"

"This is called the Romanian Deadlift," Trish informed me.

"How much weight are you lifting?"

"115 pounds right now. I'm doing a set of 12."

"Isn't that ... kind of a LOT, for a woman to lift?"

Trish glanced at me intently. "I'm not your typical woman when it comes to exercise, Jeremy. You should know that."

Indeed, Trish was a very unique woman; a highly special and amazing, one-of-a-kind woman whom I truly considered to be a gift from Mount Olympus. Perhaps one day, she would return there and be worshiped as the mythic, all-powerful goddess that everyone in our family perceived her to be.

Trish was a petite, brown-eyed pack of brunette dynamite and, whether she was working out or not, could oftentimes be found wearing her tight-fitting training gear. Today she had on a black sleeveless top, its clingy fabric exhibiting the bulge of her large, generous breasts quite nicely. Little blue shorts, made of lycra, hugged her hips and buttocks as if it was a second skin. I was certain that Trish did not have any panties on today, either. I could easily make out the outline of her sexy, little pouch underneath the shorts. Tanned and chiseled, sculpted legs eventually gave a way to a pair of blue sneakers that not only matched Trish's shorts, but put the perfect capper on her outfit as a whole.

I watched Trish do the Romanian Deadlift five more times in succession, until she returned the cumbersome weight bar to its appropriate rack. She took a healthy chug of her bottled sports drink, then went over to the small sink and got a cold washcloth. Trish took a deep breath and dabbed her face and forehead with it, sighing contently.

"How have you been faring since we made our return to the island?" was my question for her. "Feeling any better?"

Trish glanced away from me for a moment, but soon her eyes drifted my way and she frowned. "No, not really."

"Anything I can do for you, sweetheart, just let me know," I told her. "You know I'll do anything for you. It's just ... I know the pain is there for you, and it is burning me up inside that there is nothing I can do to make it go away. But if there is anything else..."

"I know you mean well, Jeremy, and I appreciate it," Trish assured me. "I am doing a little better each day, I think, but we are talking inches, not great leaps and bounds. I still find it difficult to believe that my father is dead. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him physically. He was still young and in good shape ... there was no way I could have been prepared for his death, maybe soften its blow a bit. I know when my uncle died, it was from cancer, and everyone in the family knew it was coming. It did not make things easier, but we all took peace in the fact that he was no longer suffering and in a much better place."

"With my dad," Trish continued, "he died in a car accident coming home from work. The accident was not even his fault." She took another deep breath, her eyes closed for several seconds and becoming watery. "It isn't fair."

"I'm sorry, honey," I told her. What else could I say to Trish? There was certainly nothing I could do.

When a couple proclaims "I do", they promise to love and comfort each other for better and for worse. How often, though, do the vows specify exactly what they are supposed to do - especially during the rough patches? How does a husband console a wife who lost her father, with whom she was very close? How does a wife, on the other hand, comfort a husband who is aching from the loss of his best friend?

I stood up and walked over to Trish, then simply embraced her. "I don't know what to say, but I want you to know that I care about you, and I love you," were my heartfelt words for her. "I will always be here for you no matter what."

"I'm glad we came to the island as a family, Jeremy," Trish informed me. "I'm very glad, and happy. Everyone seems to be happy; it has been nearly 18 months since all of us were here. For Scarlett, who heard so much about this place, this is her first visit and she finally gets to see it. You're going out, Jeremy, and doing things with the girls nearly every single day. Amy has recovered from her hospital visit, and seems to be doing fine physically now. I ... I'm happy we are here again."

"Me personally, though?" she added. "I'm not feeling it. I love the island and have so many wonderful memories here. This is the place where I met and fell in love with Lindsay. I met and fell in love with you, Jeremy, and all of the other girls." Trish pointed toward an empty weight bench in the corner. "I remember sitting RIGHT THERE the day Lindsay said she wanted to stay and live with us permanently, and build a relationship with me, as Kristanna mediated a discussion between me and her. I remember Lindsay apologizing over and over again for anything she had done wrong, and how she wanted to make it up to me. I love you, Lindsay told me time and time again, and I want us to be together." Trish motioned toward the weight bench again. "I was sitting RIGHT THERE while my greatest fantasy - Lindsay opening her heart and soul to me, offering me her love - became a reality."

"Yet, I don't feel it now," Trish mewed. "The memories I have here have been shoved to the background. I am glad we are vacationing here and everyone seems happy and jovial, but all I can think about is my dad, and how much I miss him. I am not feeling the good vibes that everyone else is here."

"Would you prefer that we pack up, and go home early?"

Trish made a fist and, suddenly upset, lightly punched me in the shoulder. "No, Jeremy! I don't want that at all!"

When Trish turned and walked away from me, I hung my head low and sighed in total exasperation. I did not have a clue what I could possibly do to make things better for her. I figured that Trish did not want to be the reason why our vacation was cut short, so perhaps that was why she got mad.

Then, I thought of Lindsay. Lindsay lost her own father to a surprise heart attack two-and-a-half years ago, yet there was still not a day that went by that Lindsay did not grieve in one form or another. I hate to say it, but everyone in our family was used to seeing Lindsay have moments - maybe even fleeting seconds - of pain and heartache on a daily basis as it pertained to the memory of her father. Had we become so accustomed to it as a family that it was just second nature to us by now? Was Lindsay calling out for someone in vain just to talk and vent to, even after all this time?

A year from now? Two-and-a-half years from now? Would Trish still grieve and mourn the loss of her father the same way Lindsay does now? I am not referring to vivid memories and simple wishes that a loved one who was forever gone could magically re-appear again as if the loss never happened in the first place. Everyone has those thoughts on a routine basis. Rather, I was referring to the outpouring of emotion that I witnessed from Lindsay at some point every single day. Lindsay mentioned her father every single day in some form or another, and oftentimes became emotional. Whether it was a single tear, a hard swallow in her throat, a simple glance away or even the occasional hard cry, I saw it daily from her.

Perhaps my next step in trying to help Trish deal with the pain and anguish that she was experiencing was to actually take a step back, and talk to Lindsay. Perhaps through Lindsay, I could come up with a way to ultimately help Trish.

As I now watched Trish run along the treadmill on the opposite side of the room from me, I felt this may be my only opportunity to do so. I did not want exercise and fitness to be Trish's own personal safe haven; her sanctuary, per se. I wanted it to be in my arms.

----

The sun spilled into the Pacific Ocean on this glorious evening, turning the water a thousand shades of gold and pink, tinged with violet, topped with twilight. The sound of the seaside waves crashing onto the beach, with birds chirping and fluttering about overhead, had oftentimes in the past lulled me into a peaceful, tranquil reverie that I did not want to escape. But not tonight.

On a sunny day, there may not be no more beautiful place on the planet than the northern shore of the island. It is fairly special on a rainy day, as well, when waterfalls almost magically appear on verdant mountains. Once the showers stop, colorful rainbows soar over tall, majestic trees, taro patches and a long, curving beach. The palm-fringed, gold-sand beach is bordered by black lava fingers, which makes it ideal for both swimming and snorkeling in the crystal-clear water.

As I walked barefoot over the sand of the north beach here on the tropical island that I once called home for 16 years, I barely noticed nature's kaleidoscope of images and sounds. Why? What was latched onto my arm was much more intoxicating.

"I don't know how, but somehow I forgot just how truly mesmerizing this island of yours is," Lindsay commented, as she leisurely tugged on my elbow. "I'm so happy, Jeremy, that we all agreed to come back here for a vacation. It has been 18 months since we were here last."

"This island brings back a lot of good memories for me," were my words. "This is where we fell in love, Lindsay."

There was no question that Lindsay was an adorable, little blonde sex nugget with the small-breasted, tight-bodied look of a girl still in her teens. Her face exuded an innocent charm that simply could not be denied. Standing 5-foot-3 and weighing a mere 95 pounds, my 20-year-old wife was dressed in a white playsuit with a sheer overlay as we casually strolled the picture-perfect coastline, her enviable figure clearly outlined with a sash cinching the fabric beneath her humble breasts to accentuate her slender waistline. Lindsay's good looks and spunky, do-anything nature obviously endeared her to me like no one ever had before.

"Look here, Jeremy." A set of dazzling, angel-white teeth gleamed as Lindsay blew gently on her carmine-red fingernails. "Scarlett did my nails for me earlier. I love how they look!" She held her hand out for several seconds and even wiggled her slender, delicate fingers, admiring her long, glitzy nails.

A smile appeared on my face as Lindsay leaned over and pecked my cheek with a simple kiss. How incredibly lucky of a man was I to have Lindsay in my life? What did I do to deserve such a wonderful fate? Then, of course, there were all the other women that shared in our relationship together as well. I truly was the luckiest man alive...

"Would you like to go back up to the mansion, and join the other girls?" was my question for her.

Lindsay hesitated for a brief moment, but then grinned and shook her head in response. "No, not yet. I'm having too much fun down here on the beach with you." To accentuate her point, she nudged the side of her face upon my shoulder and sighed theatrically. Indeed, this was the life.

"Oh my God, Jeremy, you missed it earlier!" Lindsay mused, suddenly gushing. "It was SO cute. I was relaxing out back poolside with Krissy and Pamela about three hours ago, and Kaden was playing with his toy trains beside us. Piper was there, too. Pamela was reading a book and, out of the blue, Kaden goes over to Pamela and starts tugging at her leg. She picks him up, then he reaches for the book and starts turning the pages for her!" A new smile flashed across my face as I envisioned the scene happening within my mind's eye. "I never saw Kaden do anything like that before."

"We need to get you pregnant," I simply told her.

"Yeah," Lindsay agreed, her face quickly changing a bright shade of red. "Yeah, we do. YOU do."

"Baby, I'm worried about Trish," I finally told her, having delayed the topic during our beach stroll as long as I could. Regardless, it was the only reason why I asked Lindsay to go for a private walk with me tonight. I wanted to talk to her. "I'm worried about Trish and her overall well-being."

Lindsay was frowning now, a sudden change in her demeanor. "You mean because of her dad? Well Jeremy, that is something Trish is going to have to deal with for a long time to come. Trish will finally start to feel better, but then here comes her dad's birthday, or Christmas, and she will take a massive step back in the grieving process. Trust me, I know."

I stopped walking and placed a hand upon Lindsay's tender shoulder. "How long did it take you?"

Lindsay glanced away from me for a brief moment, her mouth twitching with remorse. "I'm never going to get over losing my dad. It has been two-and-a-half years since he died. Every day, I wake up and I wish I could see him, talk to him. Every day, I feel sad and depressed inside that my dad is no longer with us. He was only 46 when he died." She frowned yet again. "Was in good shape, you know, but he had a blood pressure problem. Never took his daily medicine for it like the doctor for years tried to get him to do. If my dad took his medicine like he should have, he would still be alive."

"I'm sorry, honey," I said, slipping my arms around her and embracing her with all the love and compassion I could muster. Lindsay sniffed her nose and eventually pulled away from me, her eyes glistening with moisture. "I wish he was still alive and there for you, your mom and your sisters."

"I'll never forget the day he died," Lindsay mewed. "November 4, 2012 ... I had just saw him that morning. We were laughing and joking before I headed off to school. In the afternoon, when my sister and I got off of the bus and walked in the door, we found Dad laying on the sofa. Alison went over to rouse him, but there was nothing there. He would not wake up. Then, she noticed his eyes were open, but there was ... it was the blankest stare. He was gone."

"I called Mom ... she was at work. I was frantic; I did not know what else to do. Alison was screaming and crying in the background. Mom told me to call 9-1-1 immediately, and she was coming home. It took like eight or nine minutes for the paramedics to get there. I always thought they should have been there a lot sooner. They tended to Dad, did a couple of things to try and revive him, but he was ... gone. He was dead. There was nothing they could do. They told us that, me and Alison. They said they were calling the coroner and he should be there soon, but then just up and left. The paramedics left me, 17 at the time, and my 16-year-old sister alone with our father dead on the sofa. They just walked out the door and drove away..."

"I would have raised all sort of problems with the city if I was there and knew you back then," I told Lindsay. I had heard that particular story from her probably a hundred times by now, but each instance it never failed to get me incredibly angry. I would invariably ball my fists - like now - and tremble. "I would have been calling for those paramedics' jobs. How could they possibly leave two teen-age girls in a situation like that? They should have stayed and did whatever they could to offer you and your sister help."

"It was the cruelest thing anyone has ever done to me," Lindsay quaked. "I never understood it. I did hear those paramedics got into trouble. My uncle saw to it."

I brought Lindsay into my arms once again, but this time actually pulled her down into a seated position with me upon the sand. She rustled about for a bit, but seemed to find the most comfortable position atop my lap. Lindsay settled there and hooked an arm around my neck for support. I held and rocked her gently, lovingly, kissing her forehead for added emphasis and caring.

"Tell me a story about your dad," I requested. "Tell me something you have never told me before."

"Why?"

"Because I want to hear it," I simply answered. "C'mon, honey. Just think of something ... anything. I know how much you enjoy talking about your father and sharing memories of him. I want you to tell me something about him."

Lindsay seemed lost in thought for a good 30 seconds, but eventually nodded her head and focused her eyes upon me. "I remember when I was little - maybe five, six years old - my mom and dad would take me and all three of my sisters to the big park near Harrison, Miami Whitewater Forest, nearly every week in the summertime to hang out and pick blackberries. Dad LOVED blackberry pie, and Mom fixed the best in the world."

"I remember Miami Whitewater Forest all too well," I told her, having spent the early portion of my life in and around the Cincinnati area just like her. "A beautiful park."

"Dad would pay each of us - me and my sisters - for however many blackberries we picked," Lindsay grinned. "Being so very young and little, I remember that a quarter was a big deal to us back then. We could get a lot of candy from the gum-ball machine with a quarter! I remember it was always so hot and muggy, the weather, but I always looked forward to those trips to the park. We would spend the entire day there almost."

"As time went on, those trips each year became less and less," Lindsay explained. "I think Mom did not like going to the park and having to pick berries each week, so I guess eventually she would just buy them at the grocery store instead. My sisters were kind of neutral on the park, but I never grew tired of it. Neither did Dad. Eventually, Dad and I went to the park by ourselves almost every Sunday after church when the weather was nice and stay there for several hours. That kept happening until he died."

"I remember Christmas Day, 2012. Dad had been dead for what, seven weeks? It was a pretty miserable Christmas at our house, and no one had a good time. We were all still reeling from the fact that he was gone. I needed to get out for awhile. I really, really did."

"I hopped into my car and drove to - of all places - the park. I remember it being cold and blustery that day, and windy, but I did not care. The park was closed, but I did not care about that, either. I parked my car alongside the road and started walking around, remembering all the times I was there in the past with Dad, and how much fun we had."




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 09



"Then I looked off into the distance, and I saw the two big trees on the edge of the forest that was Dad's landmark for our blackberry-picking patch. It had been years since I had even remembered picking blackberries there as a kid. Between those two trees was an old, abandoned gravel road that was roped off, and it went about a mile or so up a steep hill until you got to the top, where there was this big, beautiful field, and a water tower. I decided that I was going to hop the rope, and go up the hill."

Lindsay forged a smile as she kept going, "I remember walking up it. It seemed a lot longer than what I remembered from when I was little. But I thought back to all those times when our entire family was there, and together. I began to get really emotional, and cry. Then, all of a sudden, I started talking to my dad. Out loud. I was glancing up at the sky - to the high Heavens - but I was talking to Dad like he was right next to me."

"What did you say to him?" I asked, massaging her neck with a gentle hand.

She shrugged her shoulders and responded, "I don't quite remember everything, honestly. I told him I loved him, I missed him. I asked him if he remembered our family hiking up this long path 12, 13 years earlier. I told him, even though I never got to say it while he was alive, how much I looked forward to coming here to the park with him each and every week as I got older and grew up. He would let me feed the ducks, we would go on hikes, bike rides, have picnics ... rent a paddle boat and go out on the lake for hours on end."

"I told Dad that I was going up this hill for him, and him only. When I got to the top, I actually laid down in a patch of snow and cried for at least a half-hour. I just kept talking to him. I would not stop. I even remember yelling at him because he refused to take his medicine, and that was a major contributing factor to his heart attack."

"All of a sudden, that hill - where I have never seen anyone else in all the times I've been there - was OUR hill. It belonged to me and my dad. I'm not quite sure how many people even know it exists, because it is in such an off-beat area of the park. I promised my dad that day that whenever I went to the park in the future, I was going to hike up that hill just for him. I stayed there for until it got so cold that I had to walk back down and get into the warmth of my car."

"How many times have you been back to it?"

"Several times," she nodded. "The last time, I actually went with Trish when we visited there in July 2013. I told her the story. Trish and I spent the whole day picking blackberries, then we took them home to Mom for dinner."

I smiled at her. "There is no doubt in my mind, honey, that your father is so proud of you right now. I like to kid around with you, be foolish and frisky with you, but you are such an outstanding young woman ... a truly wonderful human being. You're everything anyone could ever ask for."

"My dad is proud of me, and he is also happy with the life I have now," she chirped. "He told me so!"

"Oh? How is that?"

"Whenever I talk to my dad - especially like, say, if I go visit his grave site back in Ohio - I get into discussions with him," she mused. "I know it may sound silly, but when I talk and say something to him, I oftentimes hear his voice in my head responding to me." I brought her even closer with my arm as Lindsay added, "Maybe I'm crazy, I don't know, but I like to think that it is his spirit communicating with me."

"Many people go to the cemetery and have conversations with deceased loved ones," I assured her. "You're not crazy at all." I smiled at her yet again. "What does your father say to you, honey?"

"Dad likes you!" she chirped, her expression now vibrant and happy. "Dad likes you a lot, Jeremy. He did not approve of you at first, but I talked to him one day at the cemetery for a real long time, and told him all about you. This was just after I committed to you and our family. I told him everything you did for me and my mom, and my sisters ... how much you helped all of us. I explained to him just how nice and sweet of a guy you are. I told him about Trish and all the other girls, too, and how happy I was. He asked me if I was really, truly happy, and if this life was what I really wanted. I told him yes. I told him I wanted to marry Trish and marry you, and marry the others too. Ever since that day, Dad has had nothing but nice things to say about you, Jeremy. He keeps a close eye on you, too!"

I stifled a laugh. "That may or may not be a good thing."

"Dad also thinks Trish is a hottie!" Lindsay bristled. "I took her to the cemetery one day so she could meet and talk with him too." Lindsay extended her lower lip, and gave an extreme, yet playful pout. "Dad has his eyes set on my wife!"

I chuckled at Lindsay. She was a spirited, little spitfire who could make me laugh at the drop of a dime. Lindsay was so very precious to me, and so unique. "Do me a favor, honey?"

"What's that?"

"Next time we are in Ohio, I want to hike up that hill with you at the park," I told her. "We can pick blackberries if they are in season. I also want you to introduce me to your father. I'm a little disappointed you haven't already."

"I didn't know how you would react at the time," Lindsay frowned in response. "I was fearful you may think I was dumb or silly, Jeremy, that I talk to my dad like that."

"Nothing you could ever do, sweetheart, would be dumb or silly to me," I promised her. "You should know that."

"I do now," she squeaked.

Hmmmmm, interesting. One way Lindsay found peace with the fact that her father was no longer alive, it seemed, was that she had open and honest discussions with him where, in her mind's eye, he would respond to her. Apparently, the things he said were not always favorable (not liking me at first, for example), which probably made it all the more real to Lindsay. Having these conversations with her father was very therapeutic for Lindsay, obviously, and made her happy.

Still, I needed to come up with something for Trish. Was there anything I could do to break her out of these doldrums? It was tearing me up inside that she was in so much pain.

----

When Lindsay and I made our return to the mansion, it was just in time for dinner. Our family chef, Amy, received help from Devon and Pamela tonight in preparing macadamia crusted sea bass with mango cream sauce and coconut chicken as the two main courses. Although a seafood lover to the highest degree, I actually opted for the chicken. It was delicious; the chicken was first skillet-fried, then baked in the oven with a mixture of chopped onions, red and green bell peppers, roasted garlic, coconut milk and yellow pepper flakes.

There were grilled chicken sliders and lemon cheese balls for appetizers, as well as pineapple vinaigrette salad. For dessert, there was Devon's specialty - hummingbird cake.

As I sat at the dinner table and took in all of the happy chatter, I eventually began to focus on my fiancee, Scarlett. She was holding Piper, my six month old daughter with Pamela, in one arm as she enjoyed her sea bass dish. I had never seen Scarlett quite so lively and energized as she had been this entire week. Scarlett was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, having an absolute blast on the island. This was her first time here, obviously, and she was in love with the place.

Back home in Norway, work had been especially tough and challenging for Scarlett the past month or so. Although she insisted on maintaining and keeping her job as a registered nurse at the university hospital, the long hours and added overtime had really been getting to her lately. Scarlett needed a break in the worst way possible, and this little vacation to the island was the perfect elixir for her.

My only regret? We could not stay here longer. Scarlett had to go back to work on Monday (today was Wednesday), which meant that we were returning to Norway on Saturday. It would have been awesome if we had another week or two to stay on the island and simply indulge ourselves even more. Alas, we would simply have to make the most out of the next two days.

[[[ End of Chapter 9 ]]]



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 10



Chapter 10: Kristanna

-- Thursday, June 5, 2015 --

"Do I know you?"

I looked up from the computer laptop here on the front porch only to find a very tall, statuesque blonde standing before me who was so radiant, her beauty shone out across the whole ocean. People on the other side of the world were probably wondering what was making such a happy, joyous glow.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

Kristanna grinned. "Do I know you? Because I'm having an awfully hard time recognizing you with your clothes on." She then broke out into a fit of sweet, melodious laughter.

I glared up at my 25-year-old wife, an eyebrow raised, and was temporarily thrown for a loop by her playful comment. "That's seriously how you are saying hello to me today?"

"Oh, lighten up, Jeremy!" Kristanna insisted, offering me a quick-hitting embrace from behind. "You're way too tense lately!" She came around to my frontside and looked at what was on the laptop's monitor. "What'cha doing? You looking at porn again on the Internet?"

This time, I had to stifle a laugh of my own. "No, little Miss Curious, I am NOT looking at porn. You and your co-horts see to it that there is enough porn in my regular, everyday life that I do not need to seek out more on the Internet."

Kristanna gasped and held a hand to her mouth as if she was greatly stunned. Even appalled. "I'm telling the other girls that you called all of them my co-horts!"

"You go right ahead," I encouraged her, as I returned my focus to the laptop's monitor and resumed typing. However, I slowly turned my gaze to the right and looked at Kristanna as she was nosily peering over my shoulder at the screen.

"Seriously, what are you doing?"

"Why do you got to be such a woman and know everything?"

"JEREMY!" she screeched at my teasing words.

"I'm checking the weather reports for the next few days," was my answer. "We only have today and tomorrow left on the island before it will be time to fly back home on Saturday. Clear skies and sunshine today and tomorrow, and 80 degrees."

"That sounds perfect!" Kristanna chirped. "What about Norway? What's it like back home right now?"

I did some furious typing on the keyboard. "Hmmmm ... says it will be 17 degrees in Oslo on Saturday. Of course, that is Celsius, and that translates to about 63 for Fahrenheit, I think. So, quite a bit cooler than the island."

"The temperature won't really pick up and start to get warmer in Norway until July," Kristanna mused.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Fine with me. I'm just glad we have our pool area with the climate-controlled dome back home. We can go swimming in the dead of winter if we want."

"Very true," Kristanna nodded, suddenly shoving the laptop computer to the side and promptly plopping herself across my lap and hooking her slender, loving arms around my neck and shoulders. She smiled brightly at me, her blue eyes twinkling like stars, then kissed my forehead.

Kristanna looked mesmerizing as usual, wearing what, at initial glance, appeared to be an oversized t-shirt with flouncy sleeves, with an aqua and white tie-dye color and design pattern. In actuality, it was a pull-over dress that simply resembled a t-shirt, and went down to mid-thigh.

I reached out with a hand and grasped her right foot and the strappy sandal which adorned it, then ran my thumb over and across her toes in repeated succession. "What do you have planned today, sweetheart?" I asked her. "Maybe going down to the beach with Devon and Pamela for their picnic?"

Kristanna smiled and offered me an innocent shrug of the shoulders. She then made a happy face and retorted, "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'll just spend the day with you!"

I chuckled at her and placed my opposite hand upon her hip. "I would certainly have no objections if you did. Where's the wild man at, Kaden?"

"Kaden and Piper are taking a nap right now," Kristanna informed me, referring to the two infant children in our extended family. "Do not worry, Jeremy ... Lindsay and Amy volunteered to keep an eye on them."

"That is good."

Kristanna gave an impish expression. "So ... did you get Lindsay pregnant yet, Jeremy? Plaster her with your seed?"

This crazy woman and her personality - its quirks - and so many things she said (and the way she said them) oftentimes kept me full of laughter. "I'm trying, honey. I was with her twice yesterday - in the morning after breakfast, and then again last night before bed-time in the shower."

Kristanna giggled. "Devvy and I heard Lindsay screaming through the walls when you two were in the shower. We almost barged in and made it a four-some."

"You should have," I encouraged her. "You should have brought all of the girls with you and made it an eight-some!"

"An eight-some?" Kristanna chortled. "If I did that, Jeremy, you would not be able to walk right now! The way your back has been acting up lately ... you be laid up in bed all day long like the old man that you are."

"HEY!" I scorned her, albeit playfully. "Don't go start calling me old like Lindsay does. I'm only 41."

"But have the body of someone who is 81!"

I tilted my head and glared at Kristanna as she laughed merrily. That line was straight out of Lindsay's book. "I have a good mind right now, Krissy, to put you directly over my knee and give you a spanking." She burst out into laughter again as I added, "God only knows you deserve one really bad."

"You need to remember, Jeremy, I'm not Lindsay or Amy!" Kristanna exclaimed, still giggling up a wild storm. "If you even TRY to give me a spanking, you will regret it!"

Indeed, Kristanna did not have the submissive qualities that both Lindsay and Amy did. She was not the type of woman who would take well to a spanking. In fact, she was more dominant than anything - and had administered a few spankings of her own in the past. Her favorite victim was Devon, of course, but she had also gotten rough with Lindsay and Amy, and even Pamela a time or two. Every time I had ever threatened to spank Kristanna, she would invariably threaten me that I better not even try. Of course, it was said in a very fun and spirited way. Nearly everything Kristanna did was fun. She just loved to laugh.

"Did you get to talk to Trish any more?" Kristanna asked, suddenly changing to a much more serious topic.

"Not yet."

Kristanna caressed the back of my neck with her fingers. "You keep trying to look for a cure for Trish, Jeremy, but you're not going to find one. There is no cure; she lost her father tragically, and there is no bringing him back. There is nothing you can do to magically make Trish feel suddenly all happy and chipper again. All you can do - all any of us can do - is offer Trish our love and support. Slowly but surely, she will get back to normal."

"And keep in mind," Kristanna added, "as bad as Trish feels now, she would feel a hell of a lot worse if she was not surrounded by so many people who love and care for her. We are helping her, Jeremy - YOU are helping her - by simply being there for her. But there is no magic cure that will make all the bad feelings go away." Kristanna pouted and continued, "It just seems to me that is what are you looking for. I just don't want you to get frustrated over it."

"I love Trish just as much as you do," she stressed to me. "Trish is my wife just like she is yours. It really hurts me to have to watch Trish go through this difficult time the way she is. But please, Jeremy. Please do not beat yourself up over what happened. It is not your fault, and certainly no one is blaming you. Again, there is no magic cure for her."

I sat there in silence for 20 seconds, allowing Kristanna's words - her wisdom, if you will - to sink in and register. As usual, she was right. But could I still accept that and allow myself simply to sit back and watch Trish suffer?

"I love you, Jeremy," Kristanna suddenly proclaimed, breaking the silence and embracing me warmly with both arms. "Ohhhhh ... you care about all of us, you're the greatest husband any girl could ever ask for. But you want to solve every single problem, and make it go away immediately. That is great and all, but sometimes it's not quite that easy. You're such a great guy, and you have the biggest heart."

"I love you too, Krissy."

"Let's you and I go out and do something together on the island," Kristanna suggested, pulling back and smiling at me. "C'mon ... just you and me. No one else! Kaden will be fine without us for awhile. Piper too. C'mon ... just like old times, when I used to fly here from Norway and visit you when I was younger - well before the others came along."

"I'd like that very much," I told her.

-------

I watched as the cool water cascaded over Kristanna's sleek, suntanned body, washing off the salt and sand, the coconut sunscreen and surfboard wax, as she stood just three feet away away from me underneath the next nozzle. Although I knew every nook and cranny of Kristanna's lean, beautiful body, I could not help but to steal quick peeks and glances of her whenever I could regardless. Water from the beach access shower splashed down onto her delicate shoulders and torso, drizzling all over - and through - her two-piece, strapless white bikini before dripping down her long, graceful legs.

Kristanna and I had spent the past four hours playing and frolicking together both in and out of the ocean alongside the southwestern tip of the island. It was late afternoon, the sky a majestic blue, while the horizon was tinged with hints of orange and black. A few shadows fell on Kristanna's sexy body and, even as I shook my head furiously as if to clear the mental cobwebs, I could hardly believe that this was actually my life - and that she was my bride.

16 years my junior, Kristanna was sex on a surfboard. Sun-kissed and sweet, happy and free, outgoing and sexy as could be. And she was mine; all mine! Actually, ours...

I watched Kristanna turn the shower off, then whip her hair about, its long locks damp and sticky, and run a dry towel through it. "What's on your mind, baby?" she swooned.

"Nothing specific, I suppose," I answered. "Just happy."

"Same here," Kristanna said, handing me a hot, sun-toasted towel. "I love the beach this time of day. But I love it even more with you here by my side."

"You mean that?" I smiled, dabbing my face with the towel.

"I mean it every time I say it, Jeremy," Kristanna scolded me playfully. "So stop asking me if I mean it every time I say it. God ... you're such a drama queen."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "A drama queen? Me?"

"Yes, you!" she giggled.

We dressed, my insides overflowing with love and devotion for my precious wife. Kristanna slipped into her favorite cover-up, a yellow sundress I had purchased for her two years ago during one of our excursions to the mainland while still living here. It was comfortable yet still dressy and, with her gray sandals and bronzed skin, looked perfect on her.

Kristanna and I grabbed our surfboards (which had gotten quite the workout today) and respective duffel bags, then returned to my trusty, old Jeep Wrangler, which was parked alongside the forest's edge. It may have been a 1987 model with over 170,000 miles on it, but the Jeep still ran beautifully. I originally purchased it in 1991 while still attending high school, and had been a fixture here on the island since 1998. I had always taken great care of it.

One place on the island that Kristanna wanted to visit before we returned home to Norway was the natural garden in the northwestern valley, nestled between the crashing surf and a thundering waterfall. This area, with its constant mist and rich volcanic soil, was especially ideal for plant life. Simply dubbed Eden by Kristanna several years ago, this five acre garden was home to hundreds of species of tropical trees, flowers and other plant life such as lovely orchids, heliconias, torch gingers and bromeliads.

While exploring the garden, Kristanna and I spotted a pack of howler monkeys up in the trees way above us. Once they took notice of us, the wild animals began to howl furiously; their loud screams could travel as far as three miles through a dense forest. Howler monkeys are generally not considered aggressive toward humans, but Kristanna and I kept our distance regardless, not wanting to invade their territory. Still, we got some excellent photographs of them.

Our final destination before returning to the mansion was the incredible bamboo forest located not too far from the aforementioned natural garden. Boasting some of the island's most surreal beauty, this particular forest veil gave way to a lush jungle, fresh water swimming holes and four small waterfalls. It was one of those kind of places which initiated a true sense of calm, relaxation and adventure.

We sat underneath a small outpouring of fresh water from a mere seven feet above and did nothing but cuddle and talk for a good half-hour. Indeed, I absolutely loved my life.

-------

Kristanna and I had such an amazing day out and about that neither of us ever wanted it to end. We had been alone for the majority of it - harking back to the initial roots of our relationship as the Norwegian valkyrie visited me here on the island several times over a four year period (from 2009-2013) well before any of the other ladies appeared in our lives.

As for the other ladies, they had a keen sense as a group, and suggested that Kristanna and I round out this wonderful day by spending the remainder of it together - just the two of us. Lindsay suggested the guest cottage for us, insisting that she and the others would have their own private "girl's night" across the way in the mansion.

Kristanna and I agreed, but only after spending three hours playing with our 10-month-old son, Kaden. Once he got tired, we passed him off to the watchful and caring arms of Lindsay. She would see to it that Kaden had a good night as Kristanna and I enjoyed our time alone together in the guest cottage. If there were any problems whatsoever as it pertained to Kaden, Lindsay would let us know immediately.

-------

"I think you should eat something," were my words for Kristanna, as she relaxed on the sofa and tilted her head back as if she was tired. "Why don't you go and get changed, honey, while I sneak over to the main house and raid the kitchen? I know you're hungry. I'm no expert chef like Amy, you know, but I make a mean grilled cheese."

A gentle smile came across Kristanna's lips. "Just like the good ol' days. You used to make grilled cheese for me all the time when we were younger."

"So is that a plan?"

"Hmmmmm," she purred, her expression thoughtful. "I get changed. You cook. Sounds great."

"And then I get you to bed."

A slow smile overtook Kristanna's face. "Yeah?"

The contents of the refrigerator in the mansion offered an insight to the healthy diet and lifestyle that our family continually strived to maintain as a group. Raw vegetables, several different types of cheese, organic chicken, fresh fish and orange juice (not to mention a tall pitcher of cherry Kool-Aid for Trish) adorned the shelves.

I made haste in drumming up the basics - bread, cheese and butter. After all, those were the bare essentials for any grilled cheese sandwich. But the key to making the best grilled cheese was the type of cheese that you used. I could have opted for the old reliable and just went for American, but figured I would try something new with Havarti instead. After all, Havarti was Kristanna's favorite type of cheese.

I quickly returned to the nearby guest cottage and soon congratulated myself and the technique I used as I pulled off a one-handed flip as the sandwich popped and sizzled over the hot, steaming skillet. My motto was always extra, extra cheese, followed by more cheese. Once finished, I transferred the culinary masterpiece and called over my shoulder to the back of the house, "Food's ready, Krissy."

It took a second and third call, but eventually Kristanna appeared in the kitchen wearing a pink t-shirt that went all the way down to mid-thigh. I swallowed hard at the expanse of luscious skin on display. Those legs were long, toned and bare. They were also incredibly sexy.

"Hi baby," she grinned at me.

I took the plate over and set it down in front of my wife, who had already settled at the kitchen table. She took a tentative bite and nodded her head in approval.

"You haven't lost your touch."

"Of course I haven't."

Kristanna smirked between bites. "You've always been kind of a genius when it comes to making grilled cheese."

"Learned it from my mom."

Kristanna finished half of the tasty sandwich and downed her bottled water. "Sleepy," she said to me, leisurely resting her chin on her hand in the most adorable fashion. Usually I was the one tired and exhausted after a long day out, but tonight the tables had been turned for some odd reason. Kristanna seemed groggy and sluggish. She began to feel tired earlier while we were playing with Kaden.

Nevertheless, I adjusted a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why don't you go tuck yourself in and I'll finish up here?"

She nodded at me, then got up and went down the hallway to the quaint, little bedroom. Meanwhile, I gave the plate and pan a good scrubbing before putting them back in their respective cabinets. I noticed on the refrigerator, there was a stylish, little magnet that read Dinner will be ready when the smoke alarm goes off. I ran my thumb across the magnet and smiled, remembering the exact day some six years ago when Kristanna bought it at a thrift store in Lima.

Once entering the bedroom, I found my captivating bride on top of the covers, already fast asleep. For a moment, I just had to stare because Kristanna looked so angelically beautiful that it was impossible not to. Her blonde hair fell in a swoop across her forehead, just shy of her eyes, which possessed the most attractively long lashes.

The fabric of the t-shirt Kristanna wore was quite thin and left little to the imagination. The generous curvature of her breasts, the nipples protruding against the light cotton, and then there was the expanse of leg so gloriously on display. Kristanna looked like a sexy advertisement in a magazine, right there in front of me. Good God! Closing my eyes for a moment against the perfection in front of me, I swallowed, wondering whether or not I should actually wake her up.

"Hey," I finally whispered, running my fingers gently through the hair on Kristanna's forehead. "Let's get you under the covers, okay?"

Her eyes opened and focused softly on mine. She gave me a small smile in recognition. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself."

Before I knew it, Kristanna took my hand and pulled me down. Our mouths were inches apart, but the much more immediate issue was the curves I felt pushing up against me. I wanted to explore them so very badly.

"Kiss me," she breathed.

I moved my lips toward hers and definitely found myself enjoying the moment, sinking into the reassuring depths of wonderful that kissing Kristanna always brought me to. She let out a soft, little sigh, which should not have done anything to me, but dear God, it did. My heart pounded wildly within my chest. My hands wanted to engage; to explore the body that was pressed up so sensually upon my own.

"You need some rest, Krissy," I told her, breaking the kiss and stepping away. "You're obviously very tired. You need to get underneath the covers."

Kristanna nodded and pulled her feet up so I could snatch the sheet out from beneath her. The quick action caused her t-shirt to ride high, exposing her silky G-string beneath. Hmmmmm, I moaned inwardly, swallowing hard to the incredibly powerful reaction my body had to the luscious sight. Kristanna then slipped beneath the sheets and I pulled the covers up to her chin. There. Totally covered.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 10



"Join me," she said, motioning to the spot next to her.

Sleep certainly did not come easily on this night for me. The minutes ticked by like hours. 45 minutes later, Kristanna moved into me, resting her head beneath my chin and slipping her arm across my waist in a move that I was not sure had been intentional or not. I inhaled sharply, the warmth of Kristanna's skin against mine, the wonderful scent of her hair. Some sort of berry. It was an onslaught of sensation and more than a little overwhelming.

Before long, I realized Kristanna was breathing slow and deep. Out like a light. The kind of peaceful breathing reserved for those dead to the world. I smiled myself, and something shifted in me. With Kristanna sleeping soundly against me, I felt content, comfortable, at home. I wrapped my arms around my wife and pulled her more firmly in before giving in to the serenity of the moment and closing my eyes.

I remember absently playing with Kristanna's hair just before sleep finally claimed me. It was a splendid way for me to finally drift off.

-------

"Kaden! Kaden! Hey, you got my make-up there!"

I awoke the following morning to the sound of Kristanna's cheerful, jovial voice somewhere off in the distance. It took several well-devoted blinks before I was able to fully rouse myself and realize that I was in the guest cottage on this Friday morning. I turned my face to the side and glanced into the adjacent washroom, where Kristanna was standing at the mirror with our infant son, Kaden, who was poking around in the cabinets directly beneath her.

"Kaden!" Kristanna reached down and tickled his neck from behind. "Look at mama! Uhhhhh, you're ignoring me!" When she giggled, Kaden turned and peeked up at her with a smile of his own. "Every single morning, while I do my make-up, you stay down there and play with the bottles and the caps!"

I took a deep breath and sighed contently, happy to lay there and watch my beloved wife and son in silence. The alarm clock beside me read 8:50am. Did I actually sleep for close to ten hours last night?

"Where you going, wild man?" Kristanna chirped, as Kaden crawled toward the clothes hamper and inspected its base with his little hands and fingers. She followed him, then knelt down and patted his shoes. "Look at those feet! Look at those cute, little feet!" When Kaden turned around, he actually made eye contact with me and then let out a loud squeal, only to rumble out of the washroom on his hands and knees and promptly come crawling over to me.

"Oh, Daddy is awake!" Kristanna exclaimed. She again followed Kaden, then picked him up and plopped him across my chest. Kristanna tenderly squished him between us, making him laugh, as she leaned in close and stole a quick kiss from me. "Hey baby!" she greeted me, motioning toward Kaden. "Look who I went over and got this morning!" She serenaded his cheek with kiss after kiss. "It's ... the wild man!"

I hugged Kaden to me, then helped him sit up atop my chest. "Any issues with him or Piper last night?"

"No," she responded. "Not at all. There are never any issues when Lindsay watches Kaden."

"What about Piper?" I asked, referring to my six-month-old daughter.

"Mama Pamela was about to give her a bath when I snatched Kaden away about an hour ago." Kristanna's face lit up with a smile as she continued, "You should have seen it, Jeremy! Kaden was with Amy, and he was actually hugging and bopping his little head upon her pregnant belly!"

"He's getting antsy," I grinned in response. "Wants to meet his new baby sister."

Kaden toppled off of my chest and tumbled onto the bed. He really seemed to enjoy that. "You feeling any better?" I asked Kristanna. "You seemed really tired last night."

"Oh, I'm fine," she assured me. "It's just the night before, Kaden had a bad night and was up for a long time. I did not get a whole lot of sleep. Then, maybe I kind of over-exerted myself yesterday with everything you and I did outdoors - especially at the beach." Kristanna pouted. "I wanted last night to be special for us, Jeremy. I was all set for it, too. I'm sorry I got so sleepy and ruined it."

"Every night - every moment - with you is special to me, sweetheart," I told her, which elicited a definite reaction. "We can fool around, we can stare at the walls or we can fall asleep like two old folks in a nursing home. I love and cherish every minute I get to spend with you regardless."

"Such a hopeless romantic you are," Kristanna giggled, wiping a single tear from her eye. "Kaden! Daddy is a hopeless romantic!" Perhaps Kaden was listening; perhaps he was not. Whatever the case, he now seem fascinated by the television remote control and its big, thick buttons.

"I'll make it up to you, Jeremy."

"Make what up to me?"

"Last night!" she chirped. "I wanted us to make love, you know, and end what was an absolutely perfect day. I will make it up to you ... I promise."

"Oh, okay," I teased her. "I'll hold you to that." I smiled and added in a devilish, fiendish tone, "You get tired and fall asleep like that when you get old, you know."

Kristanna broke out into a round of hysterical laughter. "Old? YOU are calling ME old?"

"I'm not the one who was too tired for sex last night. Looks like you're startin' to break down there, Krissy. Soon, you'll be stuck in bed, and YOU will be the one who Scarlett is going all Dr. Caregiver on."

"You're funny, Jeremy. NOT!"

Hmmmmm, I thought to myself, suddenly realizing that today was going to be our final full day on the island for the foreseeable future. Tomorrow, we were taking the big boat to the mainland at 5:00am and meeting up with my private flight crew (Mike, his wife Carolyn, her sister Barbara and the co-pilot, Craig) at the airport. They were going to fly us in my private jetliner some 7,100 miles away to our ultimate destination of Oslo, Norway, with quick maintenance stops in Miami, Florida, Washington, DC and Reykjavik, Iceland.

We would have preferred to extend our vacation another week or two on the island, of course, but Scarlett had to return to work on Monday morning from compassionate leave (bereavement). Why Scarlett insisted on keeping her job, despite the fact that she loved being a nurse, was beyond me.

Scarlett felt guilty earlier in the week, naturally, and even offered to travel back to Norway by her lonesome so the rest of us could stay on the island a little while longer. Our family did not operate that way, however; the thought of Scarlett traveling alone and then being by herself for a week or two back in our home in Norway never even crossed anyone's mind (except hers).

So ... yes, today was the last full day of our tropical excursion. Tonight we would work on packing suitcases and hopefully get some quality sleep; 3:00am (our wake-up time in the morning) would come awfully early.

However, our family still had the rest of this morning and the afternoon ahead of us before we had to worry about preparing to go back home to Norway. Another jaunt to the beach, but with everyone included this time? Scuba diving and/or snorkeling off the coast? Perhaps a picnic at the base of the volcano? How about at its top?

With the demands that I knew were awaiting our family in future years (I could easily envision anywhere from seven to ten little kids ruling the house by 2020), I did not know how many more viable opportunities we would have to return to the island. Thus, today had to be memorable. It had to be fun. It had to be a day, quite frankly, we would never forget.

[[[End of Chapter 10]]]



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 11



Chapter 11: Congregation

- Friday, June 5, 2015 -

My eyes widened as I saw Pamela approaching me, wearing a yellow bikini thong and a soft blue hoodie that did not quite cover the luscious, tanned expanse that led to her round hips. Pamela was slender and curvaceous, with golden hair and ripe, full breasts pressing against the partially unzipped hoodie.

"Kristanna and I are headed out to the water on our surfboards," Pamela offered, her hood up, little wisps of blonde hair flowing out and casting shadows on her enchanting face. It really highlighted those big, chocolate-brown eyes of hers. "Would you like to come with us, Jeremy?"

"I'll be over eventually."

Pamela smiled, sliding back her hood to reveal her full mane of platinum-blonde hair. She unzipped her hoodie very slowly, allowing me to admire the amazing spectacle, only to reveal a bikini top so small and skimpy that it seemed her overflowing breasts would just burst from it at any moment. The afternoon sun was blazing and I was already feeling a bit light-headed. My body shivered and shook at the sight of Pamela in her favorite, yellow two-piece bikini.

With a bounce in her step and that ever-present smile on her face, Kristanna literally appeared out of nowhere in a floral-printed bikini of her own with a pair of surfboards. She giggled and sneered at me, then handed one to Pamela and the two ladies turned and walked toward the water in unison. Their tiny bikinis left little to the imagination; I could barely tear my gaze away from their sweet, wiggling asses, richly tanned and sandy, just barely covered by the G-strings.

Looking away, I found a soft spray of fine brown hair that gently framed Trish's caramel-tanned face, her own luminous brown eyes watching me intently. Trish shot me a flirtatious smile as I nodded my head in acknowledgment at her. If I did not have enough temptation already, watching globules of sweat form on Scarlett's flawless, near-naked body as she sunned herself atop a beach towel was driving me nuts. Everywhere I looked, there was a new ... asset ... to admire.

The time was 2:30pm on this very bright and beautiful, sun-swept afternoon, as our entire family enjoyed our last day of vacation on the island's eastern beach. The pale, pink sand here unfurled up-and-down the shoreline and sparkled against a marine backdrop of towering granite boulders which had been battered by both time and weather. The turquoise water was relatively shallow and calm, and protected from the ocean's turbulent waves by a coral reef.

I smiled at the little fort we built here on the beach earlier - a collection of eight umbrellas which were anchored in the sand and provided a shaded, cool refuge. Inside it was Devon and Amy (who looked spectacular, by the way, in a bikini with that six-month baby bump on full display), as well as the two little infants, Kaden and Piper. Kaden was playing with his plastic blocks in the sand while Devon was cradling Piper and singing nursery rhymes to her. We wanted to greatly limit the childrens' time in the sun, obviously.

"Look at me, Jeremy! I'm surfing!"

I turned in the direction of that voice and chuckled as I saw Lindsay sprawled out across a surfboard, her arms and legs extended and making paddling motions. "I'm a surfing pro!" Problem was, she was doing it in the sand. Lindsay was at least 60 feet from the water.

"You'd have so much more fun if you tried that in the ocean, honey," I advised her, closing the distance between us. I knelt down next to her as she shook her head quite vehemently at me. "We would watch after you out there."

"But I don't want to be eaten by a Jaws," was her standard, typical response. I had heard it a thousand times! Lindsay was adamant in not wanting to come anywhere close to the ocean because she feared some predatory sea monster would rise up and devour her. It had been this way since day one with her. Only on the rarest of occasions were Trish and I somehow able to coax Lindsay more than five feet out.

"Come out to the water for me?"

"No!" Lindsay squealed in defiance, although she did it with a smile. Then, she coyly glanced down at her sweaty, divine body, naturally causing me to do the same. "Look at me, Jeremy ... I'm covered in sand."

I chuckled at her youthful exuberance and proceeded to give her taut backside a hard, forceful swat with my right hand. Lindsay jumped and yelped in response, her blue eyes raging as she glared back at me. "Now what was THAT for?"

With the coral reef that protected this beach, the wave that was big and powerful just seconds ago barely fizzled around my feet as I made my way into the mighty Pacific. I dove onto my surfboard and paddled some 50 feet out to the duo of Kristanna and Pamela, who seemed to be waiting for me.

"Hey stranger!" Kristanna greeted me. "Did you convince Lindsay to come out and join us?"

I stifled a laugh at her silly assumption. "No."

"The water feels perfect!" Pamela exclaimed.

Kristanna and Pamela were even more beautiful wet, the water beading on their delicate skin, blonde hair slicked back upon their heads, their eyes being showcased between thick lashes. Pamela combed her hair back with a single finger, then giggled as she brushed up against Kristanna's surfboard and hugged her lovingly from the side. Kristanna, of course, proceeded to push Pamela from her board and then dunked her head underneath the water for a good five seconds.

"HEY!" Pamela roared with a happy grin once she soon re-surfaced, splashing her wife for good measure. Pamela climbed back onto her board and straddled it, her legs spread to either side. She then grabbed the tip of my own board and tugged herself a bit closer. Then closer still. Pamela's skin was bronze in the midday sun, glistening as she bobbed in the clear blue water, breasts tenderly rising and falling with each slowly cresting wave, lush nipples rasping gently upon the clingy, wet fabric of her bikini top.

Now, Pamela was splashing me. "How's my baby girl?"

I glanced back toward the collection of beach umbrellas. Devon and Amy had since been joined by Lindsay, who was standing in the shade and doing spirited dance moves as she held Piper tight and close to her. Lindsay was constantly talking to Piper too, although it was too far for me to make out anything she was saying. Devon laughed as she picked up Kaden and offered him to Lindsay as well. Now, she was dancing with both babies - one in each arm.

"Piper and Kaden look to be having the time of their little lives with Lindsay," Kristanna observed. Not too far from them, Trish and Scarlett were holding hands and having a private discussion of their own.

"You HAVE to get Lindsay pregnant, Jeremy."

I grunted at Pamela's words. How many times had I heard that same, exact quote - not only from Pamela, but others as well - in the past several weeks? If I could snap my fingers and make it magically happen, I would. Trust me!

"Look how good she is with Kaden and Piper," Kristanna mused. "Imagine what she will be like with her own kids."

"I just want to see that little body of hers all blown up like a balloon and nine months pregnant," were my words. "I think seeing Lindsay - of all people - like that would be my own personal, private Heaven."

"Jeremy!" Pamela laughed, even lightly bopping me on the head for emphasis. "You're awful!"

Scarlett had a handful of Trish's breasts and was sharing sweet, loving kisses with her. Devon and Amy were resting upon a series of towels, but their bodies were both swaying back-and-forth merrily as they watched Lindsay dance with Kaden and Piper. Pamela leaned down and hugged me atop my surfboard, her chin resting upon my shoulder. Then, Kristanna playfully flipped my board and caused both Pamela and I to go tumbling over into the water below. Pamela quickly reacted and gave Kristanna a spirited shove, returning the favor. Pamela then grunted and jumped onto Kristanna within the water for good measure, forcing her to go under.

Seriously, could my life get any better than this?

----

By the time it was 4:30pm, I had busted out the grill and was firing up yet another culinary masterpiece right on the beach itself. I opted to try something different this time, too, preparing grilled artichokes and polenta with pesto, as well as grilled asparagus with wasabi soy dipping sauce and grilled corn with bacon butter and cotija cheese. That was for the health-crazed, weight-watching ladies.

As for myself, it was okay to splurge every now and then, right? I fired up a pair of prime rib eye steak sandwiches seared with smoked paprika, olive oil, sea salt, cracked black peppers, hot banana peppers and provolone cheese all layered with a special herb salad on toasted hoagie bread. It was, as you may imagine, absolutely delicious!

Conversation was spirited and playful (like usual) as the ten of us (Kaden and Piper included) all huddled underneath the umbrella fort and enjoyed our very early dinner. Lindsay began gathering broken tree branches and other pieces of wood from the nearby forest, saying she wanted to build a bonfire. Scarlett decided to help her in retrieving more materials. Soon, we had a raging, crackling fire to entertain and help tide us through the end of our dinner.

Kristanna and Pamela returned to the ocean one final time with their surfboards, but brought Devon and Scarlett along with them. The four ladies continuously squealed and giggled as they wrestled and played in the surf. I opted to stay in the shade with Amy reclining upon my chest, my arms wrapped around her and my hands idly massaging her baby bump.

Lindsay was right beside me. When she was not playing with Piper, Lindsay was stealing sweet kisses from Trish, Amy and yours truly. Trish was opposite Lindsay, keeping little Kaden alert and occupied. Fortunately, Trish seemed to be in a much more vibrant and cheerful mood today. A happy, little family outing like this was most assuredly the reason why.

Our beach party ended after we took Kaden and Piper out to the water's edge and passed each of them off to their respective mother. Kaden and Piper laughed and squealed with baby delight as they got the opportunity to sit and crawl in the very edge of the peaceful, tranquil surf.

And of course, the final act was four ladies - Kristanna, Devon, Pamela and Scarlett - each grabbing one of Lindsay's limbs, only to carry her out to the water, then toss her into it some 20 feet from the shore. Lindsay kicked and screamed the whole way, of course, and put up a protest in vain, but even she knew this was going to be her ultimate fate before the party was over. I think Lindsay actually welcomed it.

----

Scarlett pulled my cock out of her mouth, then slid her lips downward to lick and slurp on my testicles as Devon's head was nestled between her thighs, her tongue working its magic. I gripped Scarlett's red hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and holding it to one side so I could watch her jaw and tongue as they tended to my pulsing erection.

Scarlett wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed her face tightly upon my crotch as she experienced the first of what promised to be multiple orgasms this particular evening. She squealed and shuddered in passion, courtesy of Devon and her expert oral services. Scarlett's breath was rapid and hot upon my testicles as the orgasm crested, then faded away.

Scarlett moved back and gripped the base of my shaft with her right hand, only to begin pumping away, but otherwise turned all of her attention to Devon. She leaned down and met Devon's lips with her own for an appreciative, loving kiss. I still had a big clump of Scarlett's hair in my own hand, and tugged at it to remind her that I was here too.

The 30-year-old glared back at me with hot, smoldering eyes, then took my cock into her mouth again. She sealed her lips around my throbbing erection and slid her tongue to its delicate underside, then sucked as she slid it in-and-out of her mouth, supplemented by brisk strokes of her hand.

"Oh wow," I moaned in ecstasy. "God, yes..."

On her knees, Scarlett looked upward and directly into my eyes as I began to pump and thrust my hips upon her mouth. I had her in the perfect position for it, too.

"I bet you can get him off in 30 seconds," Devon grinned, obviously being entertained by watching her close girlfriend and lover suck off her lucky (bastard of a) husband.

Scarlett intensified her actions, taking more and more of me into her mouth. I began to breathe deeply myself and feel somewhat lightheaded. She kept the tip of my cock buried within the far reaches of her throat, then furiously flicked and slid her tongue upon its rigid tip.

Devon proved to be quite prophetic; I growled out at the very top of my lungs as I shot a heavy batch of semen into the back of Scarlett's mouth and directly down her throat. I was shoved all the way in and I am not even quite sure she could taste it, but Scarlett still smiled and beamed up at me regardless until the massive deluge of sperm slowed to a tiny trickle. Then, Scarlett popped me out of her fantastic mouth and smiled gleefully as she stood up.

"You feel better now?" she teased.

"Fuck..." was the only word I could muster.

Devon stood up as well and cradled Scarlett's pretty face with both hands, then promptly kissed her. The kiss was very deep and probing; Devon obviously wanted to see if she could get a taste of what Scarlett had just been given.

I took a seat in a nearby chair and sighed contently, only to glance around at what was happening elsewhere in the front room. Lindsay looked incredibly hot and naughty on her knees, totally naked, as she had Pamela backed up against the corner wall with her face shoved directly between her thighs. Pamela was groaning out and voicing her approval, her hands atop Lindsay's head, her fingers weaving throughout her hair.

Amy was all happy and smiles as she was relaxing upon the floor, her back against the sofa, with Kristanna and Trish on either side of her, each of them taking turns kissing and feeling her up. Kristanna, in fact, had been rubbing and twiddling away upon Amy's pussy for the better part of the past two minutes.

Did you honestly believe that we would end our tropical vacation - our return to paradise and the roots of our relationship - without at least one massive group sex celebration? If anything, this could be for old times' sake!

With Kaden and Piper fast asleep after our long afternoon at the beach, I focused on Pamela as her body began to buck and churn under the control of Lindsay's oral ministrations. Lindsay was straight out of my ultimate fantasy; on her knees with her back turned, her petite, little frame and her perfect, sun-kissed skin, her long-flowing blonde hair shimmering underneath the room light with her lips and tongue literally attached to Pamela's pussy. That tight, sweet ass of hers looked good enough to eat...

As Trish and Amy were engaged in a lip-lock, Kristanna placed open-mouthed kisses down the length of Amy's neck, her collarbone and then settled on her breasts. Kristanna took her time, kissing, teasing, circling. Amy ran her fingers throughout Kristanna's hair, quickly becoming undone and luxuriating in the wondrous sensations.

Pamela cried out as an orgasm ripped through her hard and fierce, a powerful jolt of pleasure that obviously took her entirely. It pulled a shrieking sound from her; a wordless cry that conveyed the heights Lindsay had carried her to. With her submissive-like qualities and her intention to always please, Lindsay was intent on providing Pamela with the highest, utmost amount of satisfaction possible.

In the aftermath, Pamela settled down beside Lindsay upon the carpeted floor and brushed the hair back from her forehead. Lindsay giggled and shook her head in response, planting a series of kisses upon Pamela's elegant, pretty face as they gazed lovingly into each others' eyes.

The level of heat and desire between Devon and Scarlett had escalated ten-fold by now. Scarlett had since pinned Devon beneath her and ravaged the mouth that she could never get quite enough of with her very own.

Devon wrapped her legs around Scarlett, craving even more contact, her body on fire. Scarlett began to move against her, but at an agonizingly slow pace. Devon whimpered, trying to pull her in more, anything to accelerate the pace, but Scarlett held strong. Scarlett slid one arm all the way around Devon while reaching between them with the other. She inserted a trio of fingers inside her lush, velvety pussy, which made Devon's eyes grow wide and looming in response.

Lindsay suddenly appeared just in front of me, only to climb atop my lap and straddle me there. She slipped her arms around my torso and kissed just under my jaw, my body already responding in spades to the attention she was giving me. She then slid a hand between us and gripped my flaccid, deflated cock, attempting to surge new life into it.

"Look at me, Jeremy."

I found Lindsay's eyes and held on, the connection between us only heightening the situation and making it greater. Pamela was seated on the floor directly in front of us, her own arms coiled around Lindsay's waistline and her lips splaying tender kisses along the small of her back.

"I love you, Jeremy."

"I love you too, honey," I whispered back at Lindsay.

She gave an impish smile. "Now get me pregnant!"

Lindsay again gazed into my eyes as she reached below to hold and position my shaft, which was not even fully erect yet, guiding her descending frame toward it. She allowed the tip of my cock to play with her clitoris and labia for several seconds (which gave me a sudden rush) before lowering herself onto me. Lindsay let out a deep, ragged gasp, then leaned in to kiss me as Pamela now massaged my testicles.

I instinctively reached for Lindsay's breasts and began mauling them, only to then go for her nipples and tweak them into arousal. I leaned forward and took one into my mouth, biting, sucking, teasing it, pleasing her. Pamela now held onto Lindsay's slender hips and greatly aided her in bounding up-and-down upon the widening girth and length of my cock.

Lindsay moaned and growled with passion as she continually impaled herself upon me now, her mouth locked with mine in a torrid kiss. When she quickened the tempo without warning, I lost control of myself and screamed out like a raving madman, my senses erupting like a supernova and sperm jettisoning outward and filling Lindsay's fertile, little cavern. At the same time, she held me close to her and had an orgasm of her own, our bodies twitching together, our breaths in tune, our hearts and souls united in ultimate, ecstatic satisfaction.

Lindsay decided to take a rest with my shaft still inside of her, placing the side of her face upon my chest and again sighing. Able to glance elsewhere, my heart-rate went into overdrive as I now witnessed Amy in the middle of the room - sitting on her knees - as Kristanna and Trish stood to either side of her, each sporting a massive, strap-on dildo.

They moved in close and Amy stretched her mouth as wide as it would go, and tried her best to take both dildos in at once. That did not quite work, so Kristanna and Trish each put the tip of their dildo to Amy's mouth and proceeded to take turns, alternating thrusts into her mouth. Watching my beautiful, pregnant wife getting her mouth reamed by two equally attractive, dildo-wielding vixens was definitely a spectacle to behold.

After about 90 seconds of the two dildos see-sawing into her mouth, Amy appeared to be getting fairly tired. When she asked for a break, Kristanna and Trish complied without hesitation. Kristanna knelt down and hugged Amy from the side, then kissed her on the cheek. "You okay, sweetie?" Kristanna massaged her baby bump for added emphasis.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 11



"Yeah," Amy replied, stretching her jaws.

Trish still wanted more, it appeared, but did not want to run the risk of over-exerting Amy. So, she came over to us and promptly pulled a still-recovering Lindsay from me, only to take her over to the desk and bend her over it. Trish latched onto Lindsay's hips with both hands, then shoved the long, thick dildo protruding from her pelvis deep into her.

As Trish began to pump and thrust into Lindsay's pussy from behind, Kristanna had a wicked glint in her eyes as she watched. Kristanna gave Amy a kiss, then stood up and made her way over to the table. She approached Lindsay, whose mouth was already open and waiting, from the side. Kristanna jammed the dildo into Lindsay's sweet mouth and back out again, twisting and contorting her body in unique ways as Trish still pounded into her from the rear.

"Jeremy..." came a soft, teasing whisper; my body vibrated and I moaned at the sight of Pamela, whose hand was cupping my testicles while her fingers prodded my near-lifeless cock. I needed more time to rest and recover than any of these ladies, but that did not matter to them in situations like this. They fully expected me to perform and satisfy them.

"We gotta get that cock hard again," Devon told Pamela, settling next to her on her knees.

"We must definitely do," Pamela squealed in agreement, smiling, as Devon snaked her head forward and dabbed at my shaft with her gentle, curious tongue. Pamela caressed Devon's neck and shoulders, adding, "We have to get him hard so he can put another load of his stuff in Lindsay."

"Make Lindsay his baby mama!" Devon chortled, those words causing my personal universe to spin and go hazy.

Pamela slid upward, her luscious body moving over mine as I sat in the chair, and moved her mouth to mine for a kiss. The tongue-laced exchange was intense and savory, and could have lasted for all eternity without a single complaint from me, yet what I saw off to the left side quickly caught my attention and made me focus on it more than anything.

Lindsay was now on her knees with the dildo-wielding Kristanna and Trish flanked to either side of her. She had a rubber phallus in each hand and was stroking them as if they were actual cocks. But her own focus was on Scarlett, who now approached her with a massive dildo strapped into place around her own waist.

"I've never seen you with a strap-on before!" Kristanna exclaimed at Scarlett.

"I just couldn't resist this opportunity," she responded, closing the distance and plugging Lindsay's mouth with the monster tool. "Lindsay looks so sweet and innocent!"

"Yet is anything but," Kristanna observed, watching that blonde head bob back-and-forth as Scarlett pumped into her. Lindsay actually glanced my way and maintained eye contact for at least ten seconds, her shiny red lips sliding along the length of Scarlett's dildo. Toward the end of her looking at me, I actually saw a smile form on Lindsay's face. I knew that expression! She was telling me ... she loved me.

"Let's switch positions," Trish suggested. "Clockwise."

Scarlett withdrew her dildo from Lindsay's mouth, only to be immediately replaced by Kristanna's. Scarlett moved to Lindsay's left hand and Trish to her right, and the process quickly began again.

Kristanna drilled Lindsay's mouth fast and furiously, her hips a literal blur. Lindsay made gagging noises and seemed to cough and choke momentarily, but that certainly did not detour Kristanna from her objective here. She rode that mouth for all it was worth, claiming it as her own.

I still felt disoriented, not to mention a bit dizzy, as Pamela and Devon each grabbed one of my arms and pulled me to my feet. They guided me over to the sofa and literally tossed me onto it like a sack of potatoes. It took a second or two to adjust to my new surroundings. A warm, beautiful body soon cozied up to me; my eyes immediately drifted downward toward that massive, healthy expanse of belly.

"Hi Jeremy," Amy giggled, tilting her face to the side and kissing me. She hooked one leg over my lap as her tongue explored the inner reaches and depths of my mouth. My hands alternated between her swollen breasts and her baby bump.

Pamela got onto the sofa and moved to the other side of me. She pried my mouth away from Amy's, only to then kiss me quite deeply and intimately herself. None of these ladies were the greedy or jealous type, of course; they were always happy to share with each other. Thus, Amy had a happy smile as she watched Pamela serenade me with kiss after kiss. If Amy wanted, she knew she could take me back at any given time.

Lindsay was now perched upon her elbows and knees, her little ass high in the air, as she glanced up at Kristanna and smiled. Kristanna pressed the head of her dildo against those soft, delicate pussy lips. Then, she popped the instrument into Lindsay and forged it all the way inside. She held onto either side of her waist and began thumping away. Lindsay bit her lower lip and pounded her fist upon the floor in response to being violated by the humongous black dildo.

"My turn!" Trish eventually exclaimed.

Kristanna withdrew from Lindsay, who promptly rolled onto her back and raised her knees, then spread her thighs. It was obvious that she wanted Trish to take her in the classic missionary position. Trish obliged without hesitation, of course. As Trish lowered herself into Lindsay one more time, she wrapped her legs and criss-crossed her feet and ankles around her wife's hips.

"Look at what you've created over the past two years!" Pamela told me with a smile, her eyes trained upon the darling, angel-like 20-year-old who rarely failed to get the lion's share of attention during these group sessions.

"Lindsay could take on an entire football team if she wanted, and easily satisfy every single one of them."

"Amy!" Pamela complained, even smacking her on the shoulder for saying something so crass and rude. "That's nasty!"

"But Lindsay belongs to us," Scarlett told them from across the room. "It will be that way forever. No one but us."

Most likely oblivious to the discussion going on about her, Lindsay's body bucked and churned as Trish pummeled her in the missionary position. Lindsay soon focused on Kristanna, however, and motioned for her to come back again. "Why don't you fuck my ass, Krissy, while Trish finishes off my pussy?"

"Where do you want me?" Trish asked her, pulling out.

Lindsay motioned for Trish to lay down flat on her back. Lindsay wasted no time once Trish was where she wanted her, again impaling herself on the dildo and beginning to bump and grind atop it. She then looked up at Kristanna and tapped her own ass with a single fingertip. Kristanna, who was already smearing a heavy helping of anal lubricant across her own dildo, knew exactly what to do.

Lindsay was now laying flat atop Trish as Kristanna moved in from behind, fisting her dildo with two hands and slowly guiding it inside.

"Oh, God!" Lindsay moaned. "Fuck my ass, Krissy!"

Lindsay began to rock back-and-forth, sliding both dildos through two of her three orifices. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head momentarily and she seemed lost in the sensation of being double-penetrated by two of her wives. They squished her tight between them, both of them embracing her, which only added to her overall stimulation.

In no time flat, Kristanna was drilling Lindsay's puckered, little anus hard and with great force, slapping her pelvis against her upturned ass as Trish took care of her sweet pussy, massaging those firm breasts with both hands and attempting to stifle the blonde's screams with kisses.

"Please shut her up!" Amy begged of Scarlett, who still had a strap-on dildo around her waist as well. Scarlett quickly complied with Amy's request, dropping down just in front of Lindsay and plugging her squealy mouth.

Now with all three of her orifices stuffed to the absolute hilt, it did not take long for Lindsay to lose control of her body, as well as her emotions. She slammed both fists onto the floor repeatedly as a powerful orgasm ripped throughout her, obviously rocking her world and sending her to the very brink of sexual madness.

Kristanna, Trish and Scarlett did not relent; they kept drilling Lindsay triple-penetration style until her orgasm reached its zenith, and she fell off the proverbial ledge. Only when Lindsay went limp and weak did they all pull out and then check on her as a loving, caring group.

"Are you okay, honey?"

"We didn't hurt you, I hope?"

"You could never hurt me," Lindsay promised them, her tone serious, yet exhausted and breathless. "That ... oh my God. Oh God! That ... was FUCKING AMAZING."

"Hmmmmm ... looks like someone has a hard cock again after watching his little princess get destroyed," Pamela mused, her slender hand and fingers stroking the length of my shaft.

All I could do was nod my head at this point. Pamela leaned over and kissed the tip of my cock while situating herself in a much more comfortable position. Her tongue darted across my erection, sending shivers straight up my spine. She enveloped the very head of my shaft with her warm mouth as her fingertips now twiddled and played with my sensitive, aching testicles. I thought for sure that I was going to lose my mind. But that was even before Pamela's blonde head began to bob up-aod-down over my shaft!

Pamela swallowed my entire cock whole, moaning and groaning as its bulging tip tickled and vibrated upon the far reaches of her throat. I was matching her with sounds of passion, no doubt, as she increased the suction and pressure. I seriously felt as if I could blow my load right down her throat at any given moment. Off to the side, Amy spread Pamela's nether lips open with both hands, then used four fingers from her right to stroke and invade the buttery, little crevice.

"Don't let him cum just yet," Amy pleaded with Pamela. "He needs to do it inside Lindsay's pussy."

My stomach went into knots with those words as Pamela pulled back and nodded her head at Amy in total agreement. Every single one of these ladies was Hell-bent on seeing to it that Lindsay would be the next from our group to get pregnant. They would not stop until the deed was done!

Kristanna had since gotten rid of her strap-on dildo, and was now on her knees with Devon bent over the desk directly in front of her. I watched intently as Kristanna spread Devon's luscious asscheeks apart, only to lick and swipe away at her tiny rosebud of an anus. Kristanna teased the area with her tongue, causing Devon to writhe and squirm about, before gliding lower and finding slick pussy lips. Devon closed her eyes and sighed in passion as Kristanna stiffened her tongue and rammed it deep inside for a taste.

Devon bucked up from the desk as her pussy was being serviced, her moans and whimpers becoming louder and more prevalent as Kristanna's tongue lashed around inside of her. Devon began to squeal and thrash about as Kristanna soon licked her with wild, reckless abandon.

My cock was still hard and raging, yet Pamela and Amy were too busy kissing each other with mad desire just inches from it to even notice. I slapped my cock across Pamela's cheek and eye, which caused her to momentarily giggle, but she went right back to the kiss with her red-headed wife. They truly wanted to save me for Lindsay!

Kristanna was now jamming a series of fingers in-and-out of Devon's pussy at a rapid-fire, blistering speed. She used her opposite hand to latch onto Devon's long-flowing hair and yank on it powerfully, establishing dominance, pulling her head and snapping her neck back in unison.

Soon, there was no stopping the ecstasy that cascaded throughout Devon's body as every single muscle she had contracted and flexed in response to being taken to the pinnacle of bliss. Her screams of delight filled the room as the heat of orgasm set her nerve endings ablaze until all of her passion and energy was spent.

I glanced downward and watched as Pamela and Amy continued to kiss and swap their tongues with my cock standing proud and erect next to them, propped up against their faces. They looked up and suddenly moved away in unison, however, and I was given quite the pleasant surprise once Scarlett appeared and hopped directly onto my lap. She skewered herself on my shaft, letting it fill her pussy completely, then wrapped her arms around my neck and held on tight. Scarlett began bouncing upon my cock, her luscious breasts flopping and jiggling before my appreciative eyes. Of course, I decided to bury my face in her ample cleavage. Why not?

But Scarlett, like everyone else, was in on the plan to get Lindsay pregnant as soon as possible. She reluctantly dismounted me after about 15 seconds and took a step back. Not all of my sperm was reserved for Lindsay (I did cum in Scarlett's mouth earlier), but the great majority of it was. Pamela could see the look of longing on Scarlett's face, so she promptly pulled her close and began licking her pussy.

"Hi Jeremy," Lindsay purred, coming closer and standing just in front of me. Trish was there as well; holding her hand, and using her other to caress and massage Lindsay's drum-tight ass. "Krissy and Trish say I have a date with you," Lindsay added, giggling softly.

Lindsay may have looked like a total and complete train wreck after experiencing two orgasms thus far - especially after the last one (the triple-penetration), but she was nonetheless still radiant and divine to me as I stood up and pulled her into my arms. I kissed her deeply, madly, but quickly brought her down to the floor alongside me. I needed to get my cock inside her as quickly as possible.

When I mounted her in the missionary position, Lindsay reflexively hooked her ankles around my torso. Our bodies came together with a soft, wet sound, and some of the juices she had produced earlier splattered over both of us.

Lindsay began writhing beneath me as I plowed her with long, slow strokes. She flinched upward to desperately meet every thrust, increasing her pleasure, as well as mine. Lindsay's slender body started rocking from side-to-side as her passion increased to even greater heights, her movements becoming much more wild and animated.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Lindsay screamed in time with the thrusts into her pussy. "Oh! Oh! That feels so good! Don't stop!"

To make it even better for both of us, I elevated my body slightly so Lindsay could move more freely under me and I actually stopped thrusting into her. On the other hand, Lindsay did not stop or even remotely slow down. She kept pulling at me with her arms and legs, sliding back-and-forth beneath me and impaling her eager pussy upon my hard cock. She was definitely a little ball of limitless energy!

Trish dropped to her knees directly beside Lindsay, then leaned down and kissed her sweetly on the forehead as I began plunging my cock into her yet again. When I moved my lips down to kiss Lindsay, Trish got out of the way and I simply ravaged her mouth with my own. I drove myself harder and faster into her as she moved erratically underneath me.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Lindsay cried out in sheer ecstasy with every inward stroke. "Oh my God! I'm gonna cum!"

Lindsay's legs and arms tightened their already forceful grips on me. Her hips swiveled; her body wildly rocking from side-to-side and her pussy rammed up against my cock. She pounded herself upon me one final time, then went rigid.

After her monumental orgasm, the satisfied blonde relaxed beneath me, releasing the grips she had been keeping with her arms and legs. But I was not about to stop or even slow down. I continued driving my erection in-and-out of Lindsay's pussy until my own climax erupted and healthy, thick batches of sperm coated her fertile womb. The same hard, fast strokes continued until I was completely spent and tapped dry, only to collapse and lay gently atop the beautiful body under me.

There were sounds of wild passion throughout the entire room. I am fairly certain that Pamela brought Scarlett to yet another orgasm with her tongue sometime during my intense coupling with Lindsay. Kristanna had her strap-on dildo back in place and secured, and was violating Amy's mouth with it. Trish had since wandered off and hooked up with Devon; the two ladies were savoring each others' charms in the 69 position.

But I was focused on no one but Lindsay at this precise moment in time. Lindsay was my centerpiece, my world, my whole universe for these precious few seconds. No one - or nothing else - mattered. Our eyes were locked together as we gazed at each other, the dual auras of undying love and total adoration swirling all around us and so invariably thick in the air that they could literally be cut by a knife.

"I really hope you got me pregnant at some point during this vacation," Lindsay whispered with a grin, a single tear streaking down her face. She leaned up and kissed me, adding, "Having my first baby conceived here on the island would always be a reminder of the place where I first gave myself to you, Jeremy, and we fell in love."

Lindsay giggled, then began to sob gently. "Do you know what tomorrow is? What anniversary it is?"

"Tomorrow is June 6," I began. "Two years prior, to the day - on June 6, 2013 - you waited in my bedroom for me to show, and you wound up surrendering your virginity to not only me, but Trish as well. Trish and I shared you in a three-some for your first time."

"You remembered!" she exclaimed, full of happiness.

"I would never forget the greatest sexual experience of my life," I told her, kissing away an excess of tears. "But yes, honey, you are right. I hope we made a baby for you here on the island as well. It would be so perfect ... so fitting."

"But just in case we didn't," Lindsay chirped, as Trish wailed out in joyous orgasm elsewhere in the room, "I still want you to fuck and cum in me at least two or three times on the plane trip home tomorrow. Do you think you can do that?"

I chuckled gently, then bopped foreheads with Lindsay and rested there. "Do I even have a choice?"

"Not really!" she smiled up at me.

[[[End of Chapter 11]]]



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 12



Chapter 12: Tetrad

-- Monday, June 8, 2015 --

-- Sandvika, Norway --

Our private jetliner departed Jorge ChÃvez International Airport in Lima, Peru this past Saturday at 10:13am and landed for a routine maintenance check nearly some six hours later in Miami, Florida. From there we flew to Washington, DC with another quick lay-over, and then took off across the mighty Atlantic Ocean to Reykjavík-Keflavík International Airport in Reykjavik, Iceland. With the final re-fueling out of the way, our family was finally able to return home and arrived safe and sound at Gardermoen Airport in Oslo, Norway at 1:47pm on Sunday afternoon.

With 7,100 miles and 17 hours of total airtime under our belts (keep in mind there was a six hour time difference between Lima and Oslo), nearly everyone was exhausted once we returned to the mansion in our hometown of Sandvika. Kristanna went to visit her parents on the other side of our huge, sprawling farm in their own private home, but the rest of us literally had to drag ourselves to bed.

Kaden and Piper did not have near as good of a trip as they did last time, unfortunately. Both became very irritable and cranky during the flight from Washington, DC to Reykjavik, and then the negative emotions and feelings carried over until we reached Oslo. Once we got into our minivan, however, Kaden and Piper settled down and eventually drifted off to sleep. They were still upset, but too tired to act it out.

I put Kaden down in his crib while Pamela did the same for Piper. With both of them still napping, Pamela and I joined the others in bed. I must have went out quick, because I do not remember laying there for long before things went dark.

I was temporarily roused an hour later, though, as Kristanna returned home from visiting her parents and climbed into bed amongst the mishmash of bodies, wanting to cuddle with me. A short time later, though, I was out like a light yet again. So was everyone else.

I awoke four hours later to the sound of Kaden crying and throwing a temper tantrum over the remote baby monitor. I turned it off immediately, not wanting him to wake any of the ladies who all seemed to still be sleeping around me. When I went to the baby room to check on him, apparently his screams had awakened Piper, because she was upset and crying now too.

It took some doing on my part, but as I tended to both infants, I was able to get them to eventually simmer and calm down. They were fussy and hungry (never a good combination) and still somewhat frazzled from the long airline trip.

Piper was better, as I said, but still in somewhat of a foul mood. That seemed to fade away completely once Lindsay showed up and began rocking her in her arms. Piper became docile and smiled up at Lindsay (who definitely had the magic touch with both of the babies) before falling back asleep. I put a tired and groggy Kaden down in the crib beside Piper. Lindsay and I stayed there until he too, dozed off.

I was still worn out and exhausted from the overly long and grueling series of flights. When Devon woke up next and found Lindsay and I together, I decided to order Chinese food and have it delivered to the mansion. That way, as each of the remaining ladies got out of bed, there would be a hot, delicious meal waiting for them. Food did me no good on this particular day, though. I still felt quite sluggish.

By midnight, everyone had a full stomach but had since returned to bed. We all had plans of sleeping well tonight.

-------

Considering how she was always chocked full of energy and possessed an inner drive to be active that was second to none, it really should not have come as all that much of a surprise to me that the morning after we returned home from vacation, Trish was the only one from our little group who wanted to go out into the world and actually do things. She was up bright and early, and insisted that I go with her as well - alone (just the two of us) - for a romantic, little lunch date, followed by an afternoon of reacquainting ourselves with the sights of Norway and its unique culture.

Although still tired and sore from all those airline miles, there was no way that I could possibly deny Trish.

If I turned Trish down today - even if I felt horribly sick and it was more than justified - but went out with Devon tomorrow or the next day, what message would that send? What would the others think? Thus, I made it a habit never to turn any of the ladies away when they wanted to go out someplace with me, whether it be for an entire day or a five minute trip to the corner market down the street. It was just one of the many, countless, little things that I practiced and believed in as a way to combat any feelings of jealousy and/or favoritism. Our goal as a family, of course, was to squash any negative emotions before they even had a chance to develop.

Being the only man amongst seven women in our relationship, I did my absolute best to make all of them feel as if they were individually special and unique to me. After all, that was the reality - they truly were. But in order to express that and get my point across to all seven, it was quite a daunting task - at some times much more than other times. There were many instances where I felt as if I was running behind and doing a terrible job.

Fortunately, all seven of them seemed to understand and realize the situation that I was in. As a result, the group as a whole tended not to be all that needy or greedy toward me. They knew that if I was preoccupied with someone else on a certain day, their time would eventually come - whether it be that evening, the next day or perhaps later in the week.

Also, with a total of eight adults in the relationship (not to mention two adorable babies), there was always someone for everyone. No one was ever forced to be alone.

Do not get me wrong here. Despite being tired, I actually wanted to go and have a nice day out with Trish. I did not get to have all that much one-on-one time with her during our recent vacation on the island. She had been so disheveled, feeling down and depressed over the tragic loss of her father, that I found it difficult to sit down and really connect with Trish the past few weeks. When I tried, it seemed as if I could never get through to her or make any head-way. By default, Trish spent most of her vacation time with Lindsay. That was understandable, I suppose.

Best of all, Trish seemed to be in really good spirits not only this morning, but the past couple of days as well. Trish was energetic and had that special smile upon her face when she asked me if I wanted to spend this lazy Monday out alone with her. Her good mood dated back to Thursday, in fact. She was her usual, cheerful self during our beach party on Friday. Trish's father died on May 21 (today was June 8). I was hopeful that Trish had finally turned the corner, so to speak, and was getting back to her normal self.

Before Trish and I left the mansion on this sleepy Monday morning, however, we were reminded that indeed, our homeland was vastly different than the island paradise we had just spent nine glorious days vacationing on. Instead of lush beaches and tropical sunshine, Sandvika was dark and gloomy with the threat of possible storms. Wind whipped throughout the farm and made several of the animals quite restless. That was not going to deter Trish and yours truly in the slightest from having a good time out and about, though.

Even bundled in two layers of clothing and a thick, neon windbreaker, Trish looked vibrant and beautiful as we made our way downtown. I allowed Trish to pick where we should have our lunch, and she chose Vaertshuset Baerums Verk.

Touted as the oldest restaurant in the entire country, Vaertshuset Baerums Verk seemed like a time capsule in and of itself. A small wooden house with old, traditional furniture, it was a truly sensational restaurant with fine food and top-notch customer service. It featured tiny, little rooms for two if desired for the utmost in dining privacy. It had a very authentic 1800's era atmosphere.

There were so many wonderful selections to choose from on the menu, but I ultimately decided on Bacalao - a Norwegian seafood dish consisting of shredded cod mixed with chopped parsley, diced onions, tomatoes, olives, oregano, garlic cloves and jalapeno peppers, sauteed with vinegar. It was outstanding! I also opted for sweet and sour red cabbage on the side, along with Julekake(Christmas cake bread).

Trish was a seafood lover as well, so I was thrown for somewhat of a loop when she ordered FårikåL from the menu. A scrumptious casserole, FårikåL (yes, that L at the end is supposed to be capitalized), was chunky pieces of hearty lamb cooked with flour, green cabbages and whole black peppers. She also enjoyed a side of Lefse, which was a Norwegian version of potato bread.

Even as a light rain began to fall in the middle of our meal, I noticed that Trish was more lively and spirited today than normal. There seemed to be a certain exotic, healthy glow about her that was much more prevalent than even on her best days. I did not bring it up during conversation, though, not wanting to jinx things! Had Trish climbed out of the depths of despair once and for all? God, I sure hope so.

Our next stop was Aker Brygge - an area in downtown Oslo itself - that was a popular location for shopping, dining and all sorts of entertainment. It was widely viewed as Norway's biggest attraction and tourist destination spot.

Once a booming shipyard dating back to the 19th century, Aker Brygge underwent a massive reconstruction beginning in 1982 and finally concluding in 1998. Today it is a vibrant waterfront market with several shopping areas and businesses, a cinema, high-priced apartments and a small ferry harbor. It is also home to fantastic art and architecture surrounding the naked eye in the central part of Oslo.

Walking around Aker Brygge with Trish was really enjoyable for me. The rain had let up and the sun was actually trying to peek through the clouds. Trish and I held hands, and she munched on cotton candy as we made our way amongst the masses of people. At one point we sat down on a park bench and simply watched the sailboats gliding through the Norwegian Sea. Trish propped her head upon my shoulder and we must have shared dozens of gentle, light kisses, oblivious to the passersby.

There were several statures and different types of art all throughout Aker Brygge. One was of a man walking on stilts in the ocean itself. There was another statue of a polar bear in one section of the pier, while down the way there were many other statues of nude ladies in various different poses.

Several men kept getting their photograph taken by these specific statues, which was interesting. But what amused me was the places where they chose to position their hands. Feeling quite playful, Trish joined in - she had me snap a photograph of her next to a statue wearing a red hat, with her arm coiled around its side and a hand on its breast. She received her fair share of looks for it, too!

I asked Trish where she wanted to go next for our day of fun, and her immediate response was Akershus Festning (which translates to Akershus Fortress in English).

A medieval castle that was built to protect Oslo in the year 1299, Akershus Festning survived several assaults and sieges throughout earlier centuries and today serves as a military area and a place for official events and dinners for dignitaries and foreign heads of state. Still, it was open to the public on a near daily basis. Imposing, enormous and looking over Oslo Fjord, Akershus Festning was a masterpiece which offered a history lesson and an example of what humans were capable of doing with hard work and dedication.

Many of the buildings on the grounds dated back some 600 or more years and had not been altered or reconstructed from their original form. The castle itself was stunning and the views over the adjacent harbor were breathtaking. There was a definite sense of history as one walked around the old, thick stonewalls, the inner courtyards and the watch towers.

Perhaps the only somber moment of our sightseeing tour throughout the wondrous castle was a section of it known as Slaveriet (The Slavery), which housed various prisoners and war criminals dating back to the late 18th century. The jail also served as a Nazi stronghold during World War II.

Because of the prison and its gruesome history, Akershus Festning actually ranks as one of the most haunted places in all the world. Several ghost sightings have been reported throughout the years. But perhaps the most popular tale is that of the demon dog named Malcanisen. Legend has it that he guards the gates to the castle. Anyone who is approached by the canine spectral spirit is doomed to a horrible death sometime in the following three months. I am happy to report that neither Trish nor myself saw Malcanisen on this day...

The sun was actually out and beaming brightly once Trish and I went to Slottet (the Royal Palace) and took a stroll through the beautiful park that surrounded on it on all sides. It featured grassy areas and flowerbeds as well as old, majestic trees, and was quite a popular place to relax. I found great joy out of watching Trish sniff the flowers, an uplifting and delightful expression coming to her face after almost every single one.

By the time it was 4:30pm, I suggested to Trish that she and I return home so we could have dinner with the other ladies at our standard hour of 7:00pm. Trish agreed, but claimed that there was one more place that she wanted to visit before we retired to the mansion for the evening.

That would be Sandvika Storsenter, a super, regional shopping center that was home to 195 individual stores and boutiques. It was no more than ten minutes from our estate. Trish reminded me (as if I did not know already) that Amy's birthday was a little more than two weeks away; she would be 33. Although Trish already had a lot of gifts for Amy hid away back home, she insisted on purchasing her some more. Thus, Trish explained, there was a list of stores here at the mall that she wanted to hit up and visit. She promised me that we would be home in plenty of time for dinner.

Shortly after stepping foot into Sandvika Storsenter, though, Trish spotted one of those picture booths for two that had a drawstring curtain and would snap a series of photographs in exchange for a nominal fee. With an elegant, cover-girl face complimented by rounded cheek bones and a friendly, charming smile, Trish was quite the photogenic sort. She insisted that I step into the little booth with her and sit down, then pose for a series of photographs that we would later take home on long strips and share with the rest of our family. We could make funny faces and be goofy, she said, or just act natural and have fun with it.

"Put your arm around me," Trish instructed me with a happy, joyous tint in her voice, as we sat in the booth and faced the camera lens. Our windbreaker jackets on the floor beside us, we had privacy in the booth with its curtain closed, but there was noise and chatter from passerby shoppers all around us.

"Can I?" I teased Trish, slipping an arm around her.

"Will you?"

"Squeeze together," I offered and we huddled close, as I inserted 25 Norwegian Krone (a little more than $3 in USD) into the machine, starting it up. Trish placed the side of her face upon mine and smiled sweetly as the timer in front of us began to count down.

"What are we doing?"

"I don't know," she said. "Just smile at first, wing it."

Offering my best happy face, the first photograph in what would be a series of them occurred. After that initial flash, Trish promptly reached into her handbag and pulled out what appeared to be a tiny beanie hat, its color white, and held it up in front of her with both hands. I tried to pay the hat no attention, focusing on the camera and smiling brightly for the second shot. After it, I noticed Trish's brown eyes drift downward toward the hat and she let out a foolish giggle.

When Trish pulled away from me, I instinctively held out both arms in an attempt to bring her in closer for the next photograph. "Squeeze together," I insisted. But Trish was now facing me and holding the little beanie hat just inches from my gaze. In bold, cursive letters, there was a single word etched out across the front of the hat - Baby.

Confused for a brief moment, I stared at the word, but quickly got the idea. When I made eye contact with Trish, she giggled merrily once again and tilted her happy, glowing face to the side, staring right back at me with an expression so full and vibrant, it reminded me of our wedding day.

"What?" I choked at her. Unable to control her giggling, Trish vigorously nodded her head at me and nearly began to cry. "For real?" I asked, overcome with emotion myself.

"YES!" Trish sobbed, still giggling and nodding her head.

My spine tingling with raw, positive vibrations at the realization that I was going to be a father for the fourth time, I bumped noses and foreheads with Trish, and the two of us held that same position for quite some time as we laughed and smiled together in mutual, utter delight.

Although Lindsay had clearly been my focal point of late in terms of attempting our next pregnancy, Trish had been an equal priority of mine up until the day her father died. She had not been in many sexual moods since that horrific day, obviously, but I must have did the deed, so to speak, before it. Wait a minute, was this true? Really? After five months of trying, Trish was finally pregnant!

I kissed her on the forehead, then she brought a hand to my face and rubbed it. "For real?"

"For real!" Trish exclaimed in response, kissing me tenderly. She coiled her arms around my neck and shoulders, squeezing tightly. I brought a hand to both of my very own eyes and dabbed them, trying to hide the tears. First Kaden, then Piper. Dani Grace was on the way. And now ... THIS!

"Oh, I'm so happy!" I told Trish, now hugging her myself. "How long have you known?"

"Thursday!" she snickered.

"Are you serious?" Today was Monday.

"Yeah!" she beamed. "I took a couple of tests back on the island and they came up positive, but I wanted to be sure and wait a few days. I took another test this morning, then I wanted to come here and do THIS!" She pointed all around the cramped photo booth, then motioned toward her cell phone on the ledge in front of us. Its video lens was pointed right at us as well. Apparently, it had recorded everything. "Everything we did today, Jeremy, was with the aim of getting you in this little photo booth and breaking the news to you!"

"NO WONDER you have been in such a better mood lately!"

"Yeah!" she exclaimed in response, joyous. "I promised my dad before he died that I would deliver a little grandson or granddaughter for him. I'm not going back on my promise! Oh, I know Dad is so happy and proud of me in Heaven now!"

"Have you told anyone else yet?"

"I didn't want to, but I felt compelled to tell Lindsay on the flight back home from the island," Trish admitted. "I know that you deserved to find out first, Jeremy, but I could not resist telling Lindsay. Plus, I wanted to be certain before I told you - so more tests. But she is ecstatic! Oh my God, Lindsay was jumping and squealing on the plane. She is so incredibly happy for us!"

And no doubt, there would now be even more of a sense of urgency for me to impregnate Lindsay. She and Trish had openly talked (i.e. fantasized) about being pregnant at the same time, and maybe even giving birth to their respective child on the very same day - in the same hospital room! Oh man, I needed to get Lindsay pregnant. And fast.

Trish kissed me yet again, adding, "Thank you, Jeremy. Thank you so much! I love you! I love you, love you, love you! You and I are gonna be a Mommy and Daddy together!" She began openly sobbing and concluded, "I've wanted to be a mother my entire life..."




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 12



"Oh, I love you too, sweetheart..."

Full of happiness, I reached down with my right hand and placed it upon Trish's toned, flat abdomen. A little life was growing somewhere inside of there, and the love that Trish and I shared together helped create it! At the same time, she held up the white beanie hat with the word Baby stenciled out across its front and giggled yet again.

With only one photograph left in the session - the booth had been getting random shots of us as well these past few minutes - Trish held one end of the hat with her left hand just below our chins, and I held the opposite with my right, and the two of us smiled for the automated camera. It was the perfect closing shot for our little photo opportunity...

End of Chapter 12.



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 13



Chapter 13: "Sweetest. Girl. Ever." (Jeremy's words)

Hello everyone! My name is Trish. I figure if you have read any of this grand saga that "JeremyDCP" has written (and cannot seem to stop apparently), you should know who I am by now. If not, here is a very brief introduction.

I am 32 years old and originally from a small town just outside of Toronto, Ontario, Canada called [City Name]. Currently I reside in Norway with the most amazing man any girl ever ask for (Jeremy, my big lug of a husband) and the sweetest, most tender and captivating woman on the face of the planet, Lindsay (my wife). Oh, I also have a few other wives too (Kristanna, Devon, Pamela and Amy), and a live-in girlfriend (and probable future wife) in Scarlett. All eight of us are a close-knit, happy family, and there are two little babies (Kaden and Piper) sprinkled amongst us as well. They are our two angels!

Unfortunately, our group has to keep its situation and the relationships we share a secret from the general public. It amazes me how a few certain individuals have gotten angry at our family over the past few years for the decisions we have made when it does not affect them in the slightest. Is our happiness meaningless because others do not agree with the way we have chosen to lead our lives? Certainly, we are not in the business of judging others. I see nothing wrong where, eventually, all eight of us will be married to each other. We are all happy together, and this is what we want.

A little known fact is that I am actually the driving force behind Jeremy and his desire to share our tale of love and dedication through the written word. Erotica has always been one of my favorite genres to read, whereas before embarking on this story, Jeremy was constantly writing about various subjects and trying to come up with new ideas.

One day, I suggested to Jeremy that, since he is such a talented author, he share our story. He had never delved into erotica before, but I knew he could make this story happen with his pure writing talent alone. Thus, with the full blessing and support of the others in our relationship, we all thought that Jeremy may write a sexy (and maybe even a dirty) chapter or two, but that would be it. None of us could ever possibly imagine that it would be 71 chapters (no joke) in length thus far, and still going strong!

We gave Jeremy permission to say and tell whatever he wanted, yet no one could imagine the attention to every minor detail he has placed into the story. I certainly had no clue that he had so much to say! (I am like a ray of sunshine? The submissive-themed chapters with Amy were smoking hot! Lindsay and her teddy bear, Mr. Gordo; how embarrassing that chapter must have been for her! Seriously, how many times has Jeremy said that his cock exploded or erupted? How could he even have a cock left if that was true? And oh, the chapter Jeremy devoted to my father, and his funeral ... reading that felt like a tribute, and made me cry so much.)

I am also Jeremy's Editor-in-Chief; each new chapter passes through me before it gets posted on the Internet! But with the success of chapter six of "Island Fever 4", where Pamela hijacked the keyboard from Jeremy and put her own spin on things by authoring it herself, I have been asked to do the same with this chapter. Yes, Jeremy has insisted that I write out a full-length chapter myself.

Although excited (I have so many things I could say!), I am also terrified. I have never written anything like this before. Please be gentle with me, okay?

Unlike Pamela, who wrote about her inner struggles while trying to embrace our way of life, this should be a mostly happy tale. I am going to focus on the date of June 8, 2015, which was when I told Jeremy at the local shopping center that I was pregnant with our first child. Yes, Jeremy had one child each with Kristanna and Pamela, and another on the way with Amy (Dani Grace), but I was pregnant with our first baby, and I broke the news to him in a little photo booth at the mall that snapped pictures and captured our raw emotions and happiness on film forever.

My personal point of view should lend a different insight into our lives and the happiness we share. Jeremy always speaks about us in such high regards in this story, while continually downplaying himself. Perhaps I can convince all of you what an awesome and truly wonderful man he is? Maybe even get some erotic juices flowing in the process? Trust me when I tell you, though, there will be no exploding cocks!

I promise!

----

- Monday, June 8, 2015 -

- Sandvika, Norway -

Never before in my life have I found a man as amazing as Jeremy. His caring nature, his thoughtfulness, how sweet he is ... it is unmatched. Jeremy helps keep me going even during the roughest stretches; he makes me happy and, right alongside Lindsay, he is the centerpiece of my own personal universe. Whenever I am with Jeremy, I feel beautiful and respected, but most of all I feel loved and cherished.

Jeremy is a naturally reserved person, but has the ability to open up and be the absolute life of the party if he feels comfortable. He has always shied away from the limelight, whereas I thrive in it, so we complement each other nicely. I do not know of anyone who has ever disliked Jeremy or thought of him as a bad person. He has an extreme amount of patience and is very forgiving of mistakes. Jeremy has a genuine concern for the well-being of those around him and of all other living things.

Jeremy is everything that I could ever ask for in a man, and then some. I will never meet a better man than him.

I had a massive crush on Jeremy from the very moment I first met him, but he was so enthralled with the trio of Kristanna, Devon and Pamela from the outset that I did not even bother trying. I tried to keep a distance, and not allow myself to fall in love with him. How could Jeremy possibly find any time for me? Oh, how wrong I was.

Jeremy is tall and broad-shouldered, with a mop of dark hair and heavy, solemn brows that are offset by a generous smile. A pair of eyes the color of milk chocolate gleamed behind round-framed glasses that always seemed to slip down his nose. He has a powerful chest that any woman would love to lay her head on, and use as a pillow!

Although Jeremy will insist otherwise ("I am just your average, ordinary guy"), he is very attractive and, combined with his kind and caring nature, he gets attention from interested ladies everywhere he goes. Sometimes, other women will begin flirting with him right in front of us!

----

After I informed Jeremy on Monday afternoon that I was pregnant, he made a telephone call to Scarlett (who was working) and asked her to pull some nurse strings and see if she could get me in that very same day at the university hospital with an obstetrician or similar caregiver for what would be my first prenatal visit. You see, Jeremy did not want to wait until the next day and schedule an appointment with my regular physician. He learned that I was pregnant moments ago, and he wanted me to see a doctor RIGHT NOW. Jeremy is so cute that way; that is just how he rolls.

Scarlett was able to pull some strings, so to speak, or call in a favor, and convince Dr. Olsen to see me at 6:00pm. I had been to initial prenatal visits in the past with both Pamela and Amy, so I knew exactly what to expect. Dr. Olsen was very kind and courteous; she asked me all of the standard questions and got information on my medical history. I was given a thorough physical and exam, and the doctor confirmed my pregnancy (I had four positive home pregnancy tests over a four day period; I already KNEW).

Dr. Olsen gave me blood tests and spoke of the dangers of smoking, drinking alcohol, using illegal drugs and taking certain medications. I told her not to worry; I have never smoked cigarettes or even had a tiny sip of alcohol, and I certainly am not a drug user. I take one pill each day in terms of medicine; she said it was safe to continue to do so. This particular medication would not hinder or interfere with my pregnancy at all. Finally, the good doctor convinced me that I needed to get a flu shot.

I also spoke to Dr. Olsen at length about my desire to continue to do exercise and yoga throughout the entire length of my pregnancy. I was a fitness instructor for nine years straight and consider myself to be in tip-top physical condition, especially for a 32-year-old woman.

She informed me that because I am so fit, I can continue to exercise up until the time I give birth. Doing so would not cause harm or put my unborn baby at risk because my body is already accustomed to the strain and the rigors.

I spoke to Dr. Olsen about a friend of mine from Canada who also worked at the fitness center with me, and got pregnant three years ago. Michelle was her name; she did 100 squats every day of her pregnancy. Even at nine months! I told her that I too, would do 100 squats per day until my baby is born. Like Michelle, I have faith that I will shed the excess weight quite easily with proper diet and exercise.

Dr. Olsen scheduled me for an appointment at her regular office four weeks from today. I may go back to her, or I may decide to stick with my regular physician and see him instead. Scarlett speaks very highly of Dr. Olsen, though, and suggested that I make her my primary caregiver during the course of my pregnancy.

News had spread quickly, of course, and when we arrived home, there was a massive family party waiting for both Jeremy and me. There were baby decorations and banners already up throughout the front room of our estate, and all five of my wives greeted me with open arms, kisses and words of congratulations. Even the King and Queen (that's what I call Kristanna's parents, Kristof and Rande) were there to offer their own kind words and encouragement for us.

I shared an especially long and poignant embrace with my precious, little honey buns (Lindsay) who hugged on me and cried tears of joy for what seemed like an eternity. She was so incredibly happy that after nearly five months of trying, Jeremy had finally gotten me pregnant! Lindsay was the first person to learn that I was actually pregnant a few days ago, and had done a remarkable job of keeping it a secret from everyone else until I told Jeremy.

Of course, Lindsay badly wanted to be a mother herself. Lindsay was much younger than the majority of us at just age 20, but the time was right for her and it was something she truly wanted. She was young and playful, yes, but wise well beyond her years when it came to caring for young children. The two babies in our family (Kaden and Piper) simply adored Lindsay because of the way she treated them. She was going to be a great mother one day very soon!

I told Lindsay not to worry; it was going to happen sooner rather than later. The best case scenario would have been for Lindsay and I to both get pregnant at the same time, and then give birth to our babies on the very same day! That was a one-in-a-billion pipe dream, I know, but it was nice to sit back and fantasize about the possibility anyway!

We had a raucous dinner celebration that was full of fun laughs and nothing but good times. Afterward, Scarlett got home from work and all of us retired to the den and relaxed for a good three hours, and spoke about many, various topics. It truly was a party atmosphere.

At the end of the night, several of the girls suggested that since this was a truly momentous and special day (it was MY day, they insisted) I spend the evening alone with Jeremy in one of the posh guest suites. I nearly jumped at the opportunity, but could not turn down Lindsay and those cute, puppy-dog eyes of hers, when she asked if she could be spend the evening with us as well. Of course, Jeremy had no complaints or objections. He was almost as crazy about Lindsay as I was (but not as quite, trust me).

(Jeremy interjects here: Sorry to barge in Trish's epic storytelling, but let me point out that what I was witness to that night in the den -Trish relaxing on the floor against the sofa, with Lindsay curled up on her side and using her stomach as a pillow (and randomly splaying it with sweet kisses for hours) was perhaps the most heartwarming scene of my entire life. God, I love Lindsay, and it was times like this which sent me tumbling over the edge in regards to her. She is an angel!)

DUH JEREMY, you big lug! Tell us something we don't already know, will you? Now go and get Lindsay pregnant!

Kristanna was the last to leave the den that night. I got to hold and cradle Kaden for a long time before Kristanna offered me a deep, drawn-out hug, and a few hushed words of encouragement. She said that I was going to have a long journey before my baby was born, with some bumps along the way, but promised that she and everyone else would be there during every step of the way when I needed their help.

Lindsay was all giggles and smiles as she rode Jeremy piggy-back style into one of our home's many guest bedrooms. I followed behind them, cradling a 10 pound sack of flour (which was dubbed Baby Trish at the party earlier). At least for tonight, this seldom-used bedroom would provide the setting for our private, three-way baby celebration.

I actually wanted a piece of Jeremy in the worst way possible, but how could I deny Lindsay as when she hopped down from his shoulders, she promptly came right over and began kissing me?

Lindsay promptly backed me onto the nearby love seat and climbed atop me, straddling my lap, her small, tiny hands already massaging and caressing my breasts through the thin blouse dress I wore. I lovingly kissed her neck and shoulders, blinded by the smell of her body fragrance, and let the sack of flour fall harmlessly to the floor beside us.

"You are a bad mother!" Lindsay scolded me, but in a very teasing and playful manner. "Bad mother, Trish! Bad mother! You dropped your baby, and now it has major head trauma!"

Normally I would have responded in kind, but those lips of Lindsay's were too soft, too enticing ... too succulent for me to resist. When my mouth met hers, Lindsay gave into the temptation immediately and placed her right hand upon my shoulder, then slid it around to the nape of my neck and pulled me closer. I moved my own hands to Lindsay's face, holding her in place as a tidal wave of need and devotion nearly crushed my soul. I kissed her deeply, hungrily.

I ran my tongue across the bottom of Lindsay's lush, wholesome lip, tasting the excess sweetness of the pineapple juice she eagerly sipped on just moments ago. Finally, I pulled my mouth away and instead caressed Lindsay's cheek with my thumb. "God, baby," I managed before taking a step back and admiring everything there was about Lindsay.

Picture pretty, the adorable blue-eyed blonde could forge a successful career for herself as a model if she so desired (wearing cheerleader outfits and other similar naughty costumes, I would hope). Lindsay's immense beauty is much more than skin-deep, however, and family, friends and other acquaintances alike agree that she is just as lovely inside as she is outside. Kindness and consideration for others, along with a sunny, upbeat disposition, were linchpins of her character and personality. She was active in both the church and community, and still had aspirations of one day following in her father's footsteps and becoming a minister.

Lindsay kissed me with wild abandon; hard, thorough, very aggressively. I gave her back just as much. We stood, then I backed her toward the far corner, my own need shooting up exponentially with each step I took. Lindsay's hands were on me now. That was good, because I craved her touch. First they moved to my waist, then my rib cage. They covered my breasts and I moaned against our kiss, a sharp wave of heat shooting all throughout me. I pushed my tongue into Lindsay's mouth and explored, the taste of her purely intoxicating.

Clothes were coming off, I realized. I did not even know.

I was undressing Lindsay, breaking the kiss long enough only to navigate pulling the halter-top over her head. Her little pink shorts were already history. Standing in front of me in just a white bra and G-string, Lindsay and her pristine, flawless body, its slender lines melting to sexy curves, set my mind ablaze with passion. I found her mouth yet again and steered her toward the bed, my intent clear.

We landed on the soft mattress and suddenly Lindsay was on top of me, her body moving over mine, her lips kissing my neck with honed precision. Our pace was fast and purposeful. I was on fire, the aching between my thighs insistent, as I met each movement of Lindsay's slender, fine hips, straining for sweet release. As if she was reading my mind, Lindsay made quick work of my blouse and undid the clasp of my bra with one hand. I pushed my hands into Lindsay's hair in response, the blonde tresses thick and sumptuously glorious.

Lindsay's head dipped toward my breast and caught a swollen nipple, swirling her tongue around it, taking it completely into her mouth. I almost lost my mind right then and there, stimulating myself upon Lindsay's knee, the pulsing within me now much too powerful to withstand.

Lindsay proceeded to reach into my denim jeans and stroked the outside of my silk panties. "More," I begged her. I was an absolute house of fire! Lindsay grabbed either side of my jeans and pulled them down as far as her position would allow, to mid-thigh. My panties quickly followed.

Lindsay quickly disposed of her own bra and G-string in quick, rapid-fire succession and then settled back down on top of me. As Lindsay pressed against me, skin on skin, my mind went white with desire. Reaching a hand between us, Lindsay extended her thumb and slipped it inside me, offering me attention where I needed it most.

I turned my face to the side on the mattress as the erotic pressure built inside of me until I was certain that it could not climb any higher. But then it did. Thrust upon thrust of Lindsay's thumb sent me to even greater heights. Finally, in a burst of pleasure, I came quite hard and fast. I clutched Lindsay's hand with my thighs as I rode out the blissful waves that took me over completely. The amount of hot pleasure that crashed into me was more than a bit overwhelming.

Lindsay looked down at me, my lips still parted and my breathing heavy, yet somehow, I already knew. Without having all that much done to her, Lindsay was incredibly aroused and only moments behind me in terms of her own climax. It was the submissive streak in her; Lindsay was in her element when she was given the opportunity to please and satisfy others. Oftentimes, she found greater joy out of pleasing others than she did receiving it herself.

Even though I was still coming down from orgasm myself, I reached between our bodies and with only a few, firm strokes, I sent Lindsay tumbling over the edge directly after me. I clung to her tightly, lovingly, rocking her through it. I kissed her reddened, sweet cheek once she eased onto the bed next to me and stared up at the ceiling, trying to breathe.

After a brief moment of rest, Lindsay turned her head on the mattress and smiled at me. "I love you, Trish."

"I love you too, baby."

Lindsay squealed with a mixture of surprise and delight as Jeremy literally swooped in out of nowhere and swept her up into his arms. Jeremy cradled Lindsay like a small child, kissing her madly, then carried her over to the desk and promptly deposited her onto it. Lindsay's blue eyes were wide, bulging with desire. Already on a mission of her own, she pulled the black shirt over Jeremy's head, revealing his bare, rippling chest. I licked my lips at the mere sight.

Jeremy took a moment to stare in awe at the picturesque visual of Lindsay in all her naked glory, her smallish, taut breasts rising and falling with every breath. Then, Jeremy stepped forward and kissed Lindsay once again. His hands sought out her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples. He cupped and squeezed her breasts, jiggling them about.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 13



Lindsay undid Jeremy's belt and whipped it off in a hurry, then unbuttoned his trousers and slipped her hands underneath the fabric, kneading and massaging his hips. Jeremy moved back and again stared at Lindsay, He now placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her passionately.

"I want you," Lindsay whispered against his mouth. "Now."

Jeremy nodded, meeting Lindsay's eyes. He lifted her from the desk and returned her to the bed. Jeremy disposed of his trousers and briefs, then was on top of Lindsay as she squirmed and writhed upon the mattress directly next to me. They kissed in a hot, twisted tangle of lips and tongues until I reached out and caressed Jeremy's shoulder.

He looked over at me, his expression smoldering, then skimmed a hand from my neck through my cleavage, all the way to my stomach. A knowing smile flashed across Jeremy's face as I sucked in a breath in response to his delicate touch. I held his hand at my stomach, my smile even wider.

Lindsay was vibrating with desire beneath Jeremy. He returned his attention to her (rightfully so, I may add) and trailed his lips and tongue down her torso. He placed a slow kiss on the inside of her thigh that had Lindsay closing her eyes in utter surrender. "Jeremy..." she whispered.

Jeremy raised his head and darted upward for a kiss. It was slow, languid and thorough. He brought his knee between Lindsay's thighs and applied pressure, wringing a gasp from her as the kiss soon became rough and demanding.

"I've got you," Jeremy promised her, again moving slowly down her body. He parted Lindsay's thighs and used his tongue to lick her most tender part, sending a powerful jolt of electricity shooting all throughout her.

Lindsay squeezed the sheets in her hands, knotting them furiously. "Oh God, Jeremy..."

As Jeremy made good on his promise, Lindsay turned her face toward me on the mattress. I could tell that the onslaught of pleasurable sensation was too much for her to handle. Way too much. She was gone, elsewhere, someplace else. Jeremy held her physical body in place, moving his tongue in tantalizing circles as Lindsay's passion continued to climb. She moved her hips helplessly against Jeremy's mouth, giving herself to him.

And then at one final swipe of Jeremy's hot, skilled tongue, Lindsay cried out his name and arched against his mouth. The passion came over her all at once, a tidal wave of desire she was helpless to resist. Lindsay shuddered and held on because it was all she could do. Her release was simply amazing. It was, in a word, Heaven. Absolute Heaven.

Lindsay lost her faculties for a moment, but when she crested down and back to reality, Jeremy was placing soft kisses on the underside of her breasts and peeking up at her with those kind and considerate brown eyes of his.

"You're beautiful," Jeremy told her quietly, shaking his head. He traced the curve of Lindsay's jaw. She tried to speak, but her voice must have gotten caught somewhere within her throat. Instead, she smiled to let him know that she had heard him, that his words meant something special to her.

Cradling Jeremy's face, Lindsay placed a soft kiss upon his lips and slid a hand between his legs. She closed her eyes at what she found there and stroked steadily. Back and forth across his hardness. Slow and even. Nice and steady.

Jeremy moaned in response to being touched. He closed his own eyes in rapture as Lindsay continued the brisk movement. Back and forth. Teasing just enough. When Jeremy groaned again, Lindsay tightened her grip on his erection, while moving her thumb across the underside of its tip. Jeremy's breath became more and more shallow with each and every second that ticked by. Lindsay slid down the bed and trailed her tongue over and across his pectoral muscles, her fingers and lips working in perfect tandem. Jeremy even squeezed Lindsay's wrist in urgency, wanting culmination.

"Not yet," she murmured. "I want you inside me first."

Jeremy positioned himself between Lindsay's outstretched thighs in the blink of an eye and plunged himself hard and fast into her. He began to buck his hips and thrust away, moving his hands across every inch of Lindsay's body, taking away just as quickly as she gave, until he was in a rather desperate state, turned on and throbbing, and needing release.

A powerful orgasm shot through Jeremy's body as he pressed against Lindsay. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he nearly passed out as the blissful sensations rocked not only his body, but also his world. He filled her womb with his sweet nectar, satisfying her completely.

Jeremy eventually shook his head and began to level out. These two were a force; Lindsay and Jeremy, together like this, and on a mission that took far more precedence than anything personal for either of them.

"I'm so happy for you," Lindsay grinned in the aftermath, reaching out and idly tracing a fingertip across my stomach. Silence lingered as her breathing returned to normal. "Oh God, Trish ... your baby is going to be so lucky to have you as her mom! I'll be there with you every step of the way."

I wrapped Lindsay up into my arms and hugged her from behind, placing a kiss upon her shoulder blade. "You're going to be pregnant very soon yourself, honey," I assured her, "if you are not already. I promise you that."

"We can have three-somes with Jeremy and bop his face between our big bellies!" she suggested, giggling merrily. Jeremy let out a low, guttural groan at the mere thought!

Jeremy was one of those guys who found pregnant women to be absolutely radiant and breathtaking. He may never admit it, but I truly believe that his ultimate fantasy is having all seven of us pregnant at the same time. Even better, all seven of us in the later stages of pregnancy together, with full, bulging baby bumps to go along with it. Jeremy would not know what to do; he would be beside himself in ecstasy!

Chuckling gently, I focused on Jeremy and smiled at him. His body was still experiencing shakes and tremors from his hot, forceful coupling with Lindsay. I tucked my chin over her shoulder and found Jeremy's lips for a sweet and loving kiss. Lindsay, in turn, turned her face and splayed both my cheek and Jeremy's with a singing serenade of kisses.

"I think you already are pregnant," Jeremy told Lindsay, his tone breathless. "You ... have to be. After all the time you and I have spent together recently, you have ... to be."

Lindsay made a face and mewed, "I take a pregnancy test every single day, and it always comes up negative!"

"Give it time," Jeremy whispered, stroking her forehead. "It's not going to be positive right away."

I grinned at Lindsay and kissed the back of her neck. "Jeremy got you pregnant on the island, honey. It may take a week or two, but you'll find out soon. I know he did!"

"Hmmmmm," Lindsay moaned, perhaps daydreaming momentarily. "How incredibly AWESOME would it be if Jeremy actually did get me pregnant while we were on the island? What better place for me to conceive my first child than the island, where I met and fell in love with all of you?"

"Everyone except Scarlett," Jeremy corrected her.

This is one of the prime examples of why I love our family so much, and everything about it. I finally came forth with my pregnancy announcement today after keeping it a secret since Thursday, and everyone agreed to sacrifice and allow Jeremy and I to spend the evening by ourselves (everyone, that is, except for Lindsay). I truly did deserve some one-on-one time with Jeremy for a private celebration of sorts, but accepting Lindsay and allowing to be a part only heightened our night and made everything all the more better. Trust me, I would have Jeremy to myself soon enough.

What made our family so unique and special is that truth be told, any of the other ladies could have taken Lindsay's place, and Jeremy and I would have just as much fun. How about Kristanna? She truly was the grand matriarch of our family and I owed nearly everything to her. I have a wonderful life and a baby growing inside of me right now, and Kristanna is a major reason why. I want to get my hands on Kristanna so badly, and thank her through the act of worship. Yes, full-on, blistering, hot ... body worship.

What if Pamela asked to spend the night with us instead of Lindsay? Pamela is such a sweetheart and I always feel the need to do something special for her. Perhaps a full body oil massage, followed by a romantic bubble bath? Certainly, the evening Jeremy and I had together would have been no less memorable if it had been Pamela with us instead of Lindsay. The same could be said for Devon and Scarlett as well. Amy? Oh, I am quite certain that Jeremy would be chomping at the bit to get his hands on his two pregnant brides at the same time! It would be an epic evening, too.

See, that is the thing. It is the key. We are a team! I can fall asleep tonight knowing that all of the other girls are genuinely happy for me, and do not harbor even an ounce of jealousy or resentment that Jeremy spent the evening with me (and Lindsay) instead of them. Our group simply does not operate that way. It is amazing, really. All eight of us, each with different desires and needs, different thoughts and personality quirks, yet ultimately the same common, unselfish goal ... keeping each other happy.

That's what a family is supposed to be for, right?

[[[End of Chapter 13]]]



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 14



-------

Chapter 14: Quotidian



-- Tuesday, June 9, 2015 --

-- Sandvika, Norway --

The door to the guest bedroom was cracked open just a tad when I returned and knocked gently. Trish did not answer, so I peeked my head around the corner. She was still fast asleep; out like a light with Shredder (her favorite dog) napping at her feet on top of a blanket.

"Hey, sleepy-head." Nothing. "Trish?"

With still no response, I went into the room and sat on the bed alongside Trish. I paused for a moment before waking her, utterly entranced by the vision of the woman who slept so peacefully before me. Awake, Trish was gorgeous, but asleep she was undeniably an angel. With her brown hair fanned out across the thick pillow and her lips parsed just slightly, I felt my heart shudder in appreciation.

I wanted nothing more right now than to snuggle alongside the curve of Trish's form just as I had throughout the night before waking up myself two hours ago. Instead, I touched her cheek with my thumb and stroked tenderly. "Hey, you."

Trish's eyes fluttered a moment. When she stared up at me, a smile took shape on her face in recognition. Trish covered my hand with her own.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi." We stayed like that, gazing at each other for several long seconds, the connection between us alive and real. My eyes drifted downward, and I naturally focused upon her stomach. Shredder roused, then hopped from the bed. I ran my fingers up and down Trish's arm, asking her, "Have you told your mom the news yet?"

Trish blinked as if she emerged from a wonderful dream back into reality. She withdrew her hand and glanced at the alarm clock beside her, then pushed herself into a seated position. "Oh, wow. It's eleven o'clock already? I cannot remember the last time I slept so late in the morning!"

"You needed it," I told her. "Our bodies are still all out of sorts with that long airline flight from Peru." I took her hand in mine once again, then kissed it.

"I actually spoke to my mom and my sisters on the flight home," Trish said. "Mom is really happy. It has been a struggle for her since Dad died nearly three weeks ago, but I think telling her that I - actually you and I, Jeremy - are finally pregnant brought a definite ray of sunshine to her. It really made her day."

"You're the pregnant one, honey ... not me."

"Oh no," she responded, defiant. "You and I are BOTH pregnant, Jeremy. This is OUR baby." Trish glanced all throughout the bedroom several times. "Speaking of babies, where is Lindsay? She spent the night with us, yes?"

I chuckled at her statement and the playful reference to our precious 20-year-old bride. "She woke up with me about two hours ago and we went downstairs and had breakfast with the others. We did not want to wake you, so left you here."

Trish pouted. "But I'm hungry!"

"There is plenty of food in the refrigerator," I advised her. "I also believe that Lindsay is making a pizza run later this afternoon. Which reminds me, I have to go to the grocery store today and stock up the refrigerator even more."

"Any volunteers to go with you?"

"I have a date with Pamela and Piper."

Trish smiled again. "Awwwww, that's awesome! A nice, little father-mother-daughter day out! Piper really seems to enjoy going and being around other people. That will be nice for all three of you to go out like that."

"Scarlett volunteered to go too, but then she decided to back out. Said she was too tired from work yesterday."

"I know Scarlett had a rough first day back at work, right? What, she wound up working close to 15 hours yesterday? That must have been terrible after the airline trip from Peru."

"I don't see why Scarlett insists on continuing to work," I rumbled, still horribly bitter on the whole subject. "Yeah, yeah, yeah ... I know being a nurse has always been her life's ambition, and she spent all those years in school working hard and studying for the opportunity to one day make it happen. But there is no reason for Scarlett to work now and have to force herself through those excruciatingly long shifts."

"You know what Scarlett told me once?"

"What?"

Trish sighed contently. "Scarlett once told me that a lot of people hate hospitals. The squeaky floors, the clinical lighting, the smell of disinfectant in the air. But Scarlett said that she loves the hospital and everything about it, though, because she finds peace and solace in a building whose sole purpose is to nurture and take care of others."

As those words sunk into my consciousness and began to register, I could easily envision Scarlett saying something like that. It was precisely her nature, and fit her to a tee. "You're never going to get Scarlett to quit her job," Trish informed me after a short pause. "Stop worrying about it, Jeremy, and just let her do it. She loves being a nurse."

-------

There were suitcases strewn across every available surface of the floor in the master bedroom. The place looked like a suitcase convention, as far as I was concerned, and they seemed to be multiplying and making little suitcase children.

Ahh yes, it was finally unpacking day from our trip to not only the island, but Canada before it. The ladies had put this daunting task off for the past two days. The collective workload for them as a group was quite massive. I brought one suitcase with me during our vacation, whereas many of the ladies took along four or five. Lindsay had a staggering total of seven bags to sift through and unpack, although she was the only one not present at the moment.

"Okay Pamela, I think it's time we face facts here," Kristanna nodded, examining the contents of one of her bags as they sat next to each other upon the floor.

Pamela glanced downward and peered into her oversized pink suitcase. "What are we facing, exactly?"

"You're a bit of a hoarder," Kristanna told her with a grin. "And I only throw in the words A BIT to soften the blow because there's really no A BIT about it. You need some sort of program with steps."

Pamela gasped. "I am not a hoarder."

Devon looked across at them from the nearby wall where she was going through her own belongings and raised an eyebrow at Kristanna. "You got this?"

"I do."

"I'm here if you need me for backup," Devon mused.

Kristanna pressed onward. "You have, let's see ... seven vented hairbrushes in this suitcase alone. Two of which are missing most of their bristles. Now let's take a moment and really think about this, okay? Was it necessary that all seven vented hairbrushes, which happen to fulfill the exact same function, go along with you for our trip?"

Pamela stared at the brushes resolutely. "Yes."

Kristanna pondered this for a moment. "Why?"

"Because I need them all. They're my brushes. You're my bitches and they're my brushes. Just how things go."

Kristanna giggled merrily. "That's good. Bitches and brushes ... I get it. That sounds like something I would say! But let's stay on track, shall we? You don't need all seven of those vented hairbrushes." Kristanna patted Pamela on the hand and gently told her, "You just need one."

"Lose five of the brushes, Pamela," Scarlett suggested from the other side of the bed.

Pamela turned to Scarlett, wounded. "Really?"

"I have to raise my hand on this as well," Trish said. "Overkill on the one specific type of hairbrush."

"When was the last time you used this one?" Kristanna asked Pamela, holding up the biggest offender. Old and battered, it had been to hair war and lost long ago.

"It doesn't matter," Pamela countered, holding steadfast. "I'm not getting rid of it."

"Look over here. There are..." Kristanna paused to count. "Twelve pairs of manicuring scissors in here. TWELVE! We could write a Christmas carol and give each of them their very own verse if we wanted."

Pamela shrugged her shoulders. "Manicuring scissors are important. I take good care of my nails." She held up her hand with extended fingers as proof. "See? Neatly trimmed."

"Perhaps a compromise could work?" Trish wondered.

"Keep two brushes and four pairs of manicuring scissors?" Kristanna suggested, hopeful.

"No compromise!" Pamela insisted, defiant.

The bedroom door swung open and Lindsay strolled into the suite with three piping-hot pizzas in hand from Peppes on the other side of town. That was good news, because I was hungry. And who in Sandvika didn't love Peppes? They made the most delicious pizza I have ever tasted.

"You're here. Hi baby," Trish said and promptly greeted Lindsay with a friendly hello kiss.

"Speaking of hoarders..." Pamela mumbled, eyeing Lindsay.

"Huh?" she shot back at her.

Several of the ladies descended upon Lindsay all at once with paper plates and snagged slices of pizza from her. We already had an end table set up with napkins, utensils and a wide selection of beverages. Unpacking suitcases was quickly moved to the back-burner in favor of our newly arrived lunch.

"Was looking on the Internet this morning at some new cars," Lindsay said, shrugging out of her light jacket and letting her hair down from the twist she had secured it in. She had a serious knack of transforming herself from demure Lindsay to laid-back Lindsay in just a few, simple moves.

"Uh oh," Amy giggled, her eyebrow raised. "Sounds like you're getting closer and closer to making a huge dent in Jeremy's wallet again."

"Oh, hush up Amy," Lindsay admonished her. "Jeremy said he would buy me whatever car I wanted."

"Jeremy spent a truckload of money on your last car - your Porsche - and that was barely a year-and-a-half ago," Amy reminded her. "And you want another car already?"

"I bet whatever vehicle Lindsay wants costs twice as much as the Porsche did," Devon nodded.

"I like the 2016 Ferrari 458 Spider," Lindsay confessed.

Kristanna laughed. "Twice as much, indeed!" She playfully tossed a breadstick in Lindsay's direction for emphasis, which of course she caught and then took a healthy bite out of.

"Whichever car Lindsay decides that she wants will be hers," I told the group, gnawing down a scrumptious slice of pepperoni. "I've done the same for all of you ... so there really is no room for any of you to talk or make comments."

"When you spend over a million Norwegian kroner on a single vehicle," Kristanna chimed in, "you should at least keep it for a good six, seven years. Right?"

"Lindsay's Porsche was a birthday present," I reminded Kristanna. "It was given to her without her input. The rest of you got to hand-pick whichever vehicle you wanted. I am allowing Lindsay to choose whichever ride she wants now."

Devon giggled and held out her hand, looking at me. "I think you should just buy Lindsay a Ford Pinto and be done with it. That would be the perfect car for her."

Lindsay made a face and sneered at Devon. "I don't even know what a Ford Pinto is, but it doesn't sound good!"

Trish stifled a laugh and shook her head at their playful exchange. "They stopped making those 15 years before you were even born, honey. I don't think Jeremy will buy you one."

Kristanna stole a tortilla chip from Pamela's plate. "Why is everyone always screwing with Lindsay?"

"Because it's fun!" Devon chirped.

Pamela elbowed Kristanna and snatched one of her jalapeno chips in retaliation. "You ALWAYS screw with me..."

Kristanna beamed at her. "Oh, you're too easy. Pammy."

"Pamela!" she fired back in correction.

Amy's eyes widened. "I think Pamela dies a little inside every time you call her Pammy, Krissy."

She laughed in response. "A bit over-dramatic there, Amy?"

"You're quite an impudent little girl sometimes, Krissy."

"Big word," Kristanna congratulated Pamela. "Impudent? Wow. I bet Jeremy would like it. Don't you, Jeremy? I bet he ate up the word impudent and the way you pronounced it. Please, Pammy ... say it again. Say it again!"

Pamela stared at her, her mouth agape. "You are so mean and hateful sometimes."

Kristanna smiled sweetly. "But you love it when I tease you. Remember when you poured coffee on your pancakes instead of syrup at that restaurant over in Lysaker a month or two ago? And then ate them anyway because you were way too embarrassed to ask for new pancakes?"

"No. I don't remember that."

"Don't lie! I made you maple coffee every day for a week."

Pamela shook her head nostalgically. "You went to a lot of effort on that one."

"I did. And you laughed secretly. I know it. Just like you're laughing inside now. Just look. The edge of your mouth is pulling and you want to smile so badly, it's killing you. Come on, Pammy ... admit it."

Unable to stand it any further, Pamela gave in, breaking into the smile she could no longer hold back. "Fine. I think you're funny. But only once in a great blue moon."

-------

"You're making dinner?"

"Yes?" Pamela told me later that afternoon as she and I, fresh from our trip to the grocery store, walked together along the stone path which led to the estate's main entrance. "I mean, it's just stir-fry, but I'm pretty good at it."

"What about Amy?" I inquired, holding two full bags of groceries in my arms. "She's actually letting you cook?"

"Amy has the night off," Pamela responded, cradling a groggy Piper to her loving, trusting shoulder. "I told her so. Amy is seven months pregnant now; she needs to start to slow down a bit and relax. Others can help her."

"This should be interesting tonight," I grinned. "We all get to sample Pamela's Chicken Surprise."

"Jeremy!" Pamela squealed, smacking me lightly across the chest. "You make it sound like it's gonna be bad!"

Piper actually had her eyes locked on me and was making baby noises as Pamela and I entered the estate. We did not see another soul in sight, but figured everyone was around here ... somewhere. Perhaps a few of the ladies were still unpacking their suitcases? Trish and Lindsay, I could easily envision, playing video games in the recreation room? Amy resting, maybe getting a massage from Devon or Scarlett? And Kristanna ... well, up to no good like usual?

When I set the two grocery bags down upon the kitchen counter, Pamela passed Piper off to me and I bounced her gently in my arms. "She seems really tired," I observed.

"Pretty, pretty princess there slept for at least 16 hours yesterday," Pamela mused, washing her hands in the sink. "I don't think Piper and Kaden are over our long trip from Peru, either." Pamela reached into one of the grocery bags and took fresh chicken breasts out of it, removed them from their package and then began chopping them into small strips as if she was an expert chef.

"I'm impressed."

"Shut up," Pamela retorted, but in a good-natured way, without taking her eyes off the chicken on the cutting board.

I could not have found Pamela any more adorable than she was right now, yet I could not possibly fathom why. Simply watching her do something so incredibly mundane and normal like preparing a recipe for dinner had me in a definite state of appreciation and adoration for my beloved wife.

But, this was certainly not the first time I had found great pleasure and joy out of viewing Pamela - or any of the other ladies, for that matter - in a routine moment. How many times had I stayed awake at night and simply watched one (or more) of my brides as they slept? Scarlett too, for that matter (she was not a wife (yet)). How often would I just idly sit there in the middle of a family discussion and listen to these ladies coo and cavort about whatever, and feel captivated and enthralled? A prime example of that would be Kristanna teasing Pamela about being a hoarder earlier. I simply ate stuff like that up.

"Bring my sweet, little Piper to me," Pamela requested, scraping the chicken off the cutting board and into a bowl. When I did, Pamela stole four quick kisses from our daughter and smiled brightly at her. "What'chya doin' there, honey? You gettin' all warm and cozy in Daddy's arms? You gettin' all sleepy? Hmmmmm ... I think you are." Pamela focused her gaze on me. "Why don't you lay her down in her crib while I marinate the chicken breasts?"

I smiled. "Pamela's Chicken Surprise for dinner..."

"Hey, I did manage to feed myself quite nicely for 11 years before entering into this relationship," she reminded me. This time, Pamela barraged kisses all over Piper. "Bye-bye, honey! Get some sleep! Mommy love, love, loves you!"

Indeed, Piper dozed off quick after I laid her down in the dual nursery that was adjacent to the master bedroom. I stayed there for a few moments and admired the sight of my beautiful baby daughter sleeping, while glancing around the room that she shared with her big brother, Kaden. I have to admit, Devon and Lindsay did an excellent job designing and then decorating this nursery almost a year ago.

In one corner of the nursery was Piper's crib. A wide collection of dolls were situated around the crib, each propped up in little, miniature chairs. Colored blocks and numbers were on the wall, with the design of a pumpkin, caterpillar and eagle around them. A heavy quilt hung off the side of the crib, with Piper's name monogrammed on it.

Floor-to-ceiling windows gave the nursery an open feel, especially as it overlooked the sprawling garden outside. Devon hand-painted a tree on the wall herself, then Lindsay fastened leaves, toy birds and tiny wooden birdhouses to the branches to create a three-dimensional mural.

A large stuffed giraffe oversaw Kaden's crib and seemed to be his protector whenever he was napping inside of it. Kaden loved the thing; he was always willing to hug and dote on its long, furry neck. There was a mantle high on the wall, but away from his crib a bit - it held a football, basketball and a catcher's glove with a baseball in it. Would my son actually be a star athlete one day?

With Amy being seven months pregnant and Trish now four weeks along herself, we knew that there were going to be more additions to our family. And soon, very soon. Thus, Devon and Lindsay had slowly been working on a nearby room over the past two months, transforming it into a nursery for the next two little ones who came along. They were not quite finished yet, but Amy seemed ecstatic at the progress Devon and Lindsay had made in the new room.

-------

Following a healthy and delicious breakfast in the morning, I held my glass of orange juice close and strolled toward the open sliding glass door in the master bedroom. An arid breeze laced with the sharp aroma of blooming apple trees and freshly mown grass ruffled the curtains as I stared out at the expanse green of our farm on this bright, clear morning. Cows grazed in the distance. Three pigs rumbled around their fenced-in area with their fluffy ears flapping as if they were flying. Ducks frolicked and played in the large center lake. Trees swayed in the wind while a lone eagle tottered overhead. A young man and woman were in the pick-your-own-fruit area with two full baskets of product.

I stepped through the doorway and slid into a comfortable chair at the table on the deck which was attached to our third-story bedroom. The drone of the approaching mower muffled out any melodies that a group of birds were singing nearby. I still smiled and waved at the laborer, a trusted employee here for eight years, as he made one last pass on the riding lawnmower, smoothing that sloping green carpet next to our mansion, putting the final touches on the grid pattern he had so effortlessly created.

Off to the left side, in the distance, my smile became even wider once I noticed Trish and Lindsay were working in their own private garden. A very small strawberry and vegetable garden tucked away in the corner of the yard, near the picket fence, Trish and Lindsay grew tomatoes, peppers, beans, zucchini, cucumbers, squash and broccoli there. It had quickly become one of their little sanctuaries.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 14



Trish would surely never get over losing her father, or perhaps even the shock of his death since it was so sudden and completely unexpected (a massive accident involving multiple vehicles). Trish had been feeling pretty down and out for well more than two weeks, so the news that she was pregnant could not have come at a better time. Although I still knew that she was hurting inside because her father was no longer alive, Trish came across as her usual happy and vibrant self in recent days. Perhaps the sheer joy of impending motherhood outweighed the utter pain of losing a loved one for her? For now, at least.

But as was often the case whenever I had her in my sights, I focused on Lindsay as she and Trish tended to their garden. Lindsay wore a pair of denim cut-off shorts and a little white tank-top, her torso glistening with sweat as she exerted herself in the garden. She had even tamed her free-flowing, long blonde hair with a red bandana tied around her head - a look that did not fit her at all, yet I found it appealing nonetheless. Lindsay talked and giggled merrily with Trish, although I had no idea what was being said between them.

Even now, just watching Lindsay from afar, she stirred my desire and libido like no other woman possibly could. She took my breath away and kept me in a constant state of arousal. One look at that sweet, innocent face, one sense of that angelic aura that surrounded her, and I got lost.

I groaned as I thought about Lindsay and her quest to become pregnant. It was not a hope or a journey for Lindsay; it was a quest. It was a quest that needed completion. Over the past seven days alone, I had deposited my sperm in her 17 times. I was running on fumes! I thought yesterday was going to be a rare off day, but Pamela coaxed an erection out of me last night with her mouth and then promptly inserted it into Lindsay's pussy the very instant she showed up in our bedroom. Everyone in the family wanted Lindsay to become pregnant!

Although Lindsay was only 20 years of age, she was more than ready to become a mother herself. Lindsay was wise beyond her years, due in large part to four of the six women in her daily life (Pamela, Trish, Amy and Scarlett) were 31 or older, and a fifth (Devon) was 29. Hell, I was 41 myself. Lindsay had been surrounded by a very mature and level-headed group of people who loved and cared for her since the time that she was 18. That maturity seemed to rub off on her.

Propping my feet up, I set the glass of orange juice aside and sighed contently, closing my eyes with a massive grin and imagining sweet, little Lindsay with a nine month baby bump. In my mind's eye, I envisioned Lindsay and I out and about, perhaps at the shopping center. She was absolutely radiant, just glowing, wearing a red top and figure-hugging leather pants. I lovingly wrapped my arms around Lindsay's waist and told her words which could not have been more possibly true.

"You look hotter than ever."

"What's that big smile doing on your face?"

Those words startled me, and quickly brought me out of my mental reverie. I found Kristanna standing before me, with Kaden in her arms. When she glanced off in the distance, Kristanna nodded her head knowingly.

"You're out here watching Lindsay ... aren't you?"

"Guilty as charged," I confessed.

Although my physical attraction for Lindsay was unmatched, the mental (and overall) connection I had with Kristanna could never be approached or duplicated. Kristanna and I were right for each other on so many different levels.

When I first met Kristanna six years ago, she held my hand when I was about to cave in and crumble, and somehow pulled me back together. I loved Kristanna because whenever I was with her, I felt whole. She could always put a big smile on my face without even trying. She meant the world to me and I would not trade our love, or our relationship, for anything. No words or actions could accurately describe just how much I was actually in love with this woman. Kristanna was the most amazing person I had ever met. I loved her with everything that I was worth; my heart, my soul, my body and my mind.

Of course, Kristanna was off-the-charts attractive in her own right. Even standing before me now in the most casual of attire (a striped tank-top, green cargo pants and heavy black boots), she still looked outstanding. Her gold-spun hair flowed in waves and adorned her glowing, porcelain-like skin. Her eyes, framed by long lashes, were a sparkling, baby blue and seemed to brighten the world. A straight nose, full, lush lips - Kristanna seemed the picture of perfection.

Had she smiled, the world would sigh with contentment. Had Kristanna laughed, the world would laugh with her. And had she cried, the whole world would want to comfort her.

"Would you like to hold him?"

"You bet," I answered, taking our 10 month old son from her and snuggling him gently in my arms. Actually, Kaden would be 11 months old very soon. He was growing so very fast!

Kaden looked up at me and tried to fetch my eyeglasses while gurgling and babbling his own special language. When I took my eyeglasses off and placed them on the nearby ledge - well out of his reach - Kaden flailed both his little arms about and threw a massive temper tantrum.

"Oooooh, he's an angry elf!" Kristanna chuckled, sitting down next to me and tickling his face with a single finger. "Oh sweetheart, there are much worse things in life than not getting to play with Daddy's glasses!" She leaned down and kissed him, saying, "Oh, you're okay, honey. You're okay." Kaden was still upset, making scrunchy faces at me. In return, Kristanna told him in a goofy, comical tone of voice, "That's enough of that nonsense!"

"It's so tough to be you," I chimed in, looking directly into his eyes. "So tough being 10 months old, isn't it? Why the sad face? Don't be angry, Daddy loves you."

"You know the deal, happy meal," Kristanna said to Kaden, her voice again highly exaggerated and unique. "You cannot play with Daddy's glasses." She shook her head at him. "Uh uh, no-no. Daddy would be blind as a bat if you played with his glasses and accidentally broke them!" Kristanna took him from me and cooed, "We may have to call the WAHHHHH-bulance." She rocked Kaden about and stared into his eyes. "You don't want to go for a ride in the WAHHHHH-bulance, do you?"

Despite his mother's efforts, Kaden became increasingly angry and still had his sights set on my eyeglasses. Thus, Kristanna decided to break out the heavy artillery, holding his head to her neck and clearing her throat twice.

"Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea," Kristanna sang to a Kaden in tender, sweet voice. "And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honalee. Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff. And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff..."

The very moment Kristanna broke out into chorus of this classic children's song, circa 1963, Kaden stopped fussing and actually became quite docile in her arms. Kristanna seemed to have a golden voice in the eyes of our infant son, because singing was usually the cure for whatever ailed him.

I sat there, transfixed, as Kristanna went through the entire song. Halfway through it, Kaden was all happy and engaged, but his eyelids seemed to be getting quite heavy. At the end of Kristanna's three minute long rendition, Kaden was fast asleep in his mother's embrace.

"Never fails," Kristanna told me with a grin when it was over, swaddling Kaden into a blue blanket. "Wild man LOVES it when I sing to him."

-------

Hours later, I flipped my sunglasses onto my face from where they had been perched upon my head. It was warm out. Summer was fast approaching and wanted everyone to know it. I was with Scarlett, seated at a table near the center of town. We had picked up one of Scarlett's new favorites - American cheeseburgers and french fries, and watched as the world passed us by in the small park.

Scarlett gestured with her chin to a random guy whizzing past us on roller-blades. "You think he woke up and thought to himself, 'totally wearing pink biker shorts today'?"

I shrugged my shoulders and popped a french fry. "I don't know. Perhaps pink is his favorite color?"

"I bet you he high-fived his mirror," Scarlett grinned, "and moon-walked away from it."

"It's what you do every morning," I teased her.

"Only when no one else is looking!"

"What's been going on with you lately, Scarlett Noella?" I asked, using her first and middle name for emphasis. I sat back and waited for her response. "You have to work the next two days, right? Two 12 hour shifts, seven in the morning until seven at night? You'll be late for dinner. They will probably keep you 'til eight or nine, like Monday."

"I know you're not happy that I want to keep working at the hospital," Scarlett mewed.

"Pshhhhh. I love you working."

Scarlett shot me a suspicious glance. "No, you don't."

"Have you been in contact with your family since we came back from the island? Talked to them at all in recent days about our upcoming marriage and wedding?" To better see her face, I took my sunglasses off because this discussion was suddenly important. Scarlett was important.

"I spoke with my mom at length just yesterday," Scarlett confided. "She is still getting used to the idea that her daughter is going to marry a man who already has six wives. It is still a little tough for her to digest. Good news, though ... my sister, Vanessa, is going to come to the city at the end of the month for a weekend. That should be fun."

"It will take time, Scarlett, but your mother will come to realize just what my mother did, and Lindsay's mother before her, and Trish's mother and even her father, as it pertains to this marriage and relationship."

"What's that?"

"You're home now. You're happy."

Scarlett glanced down at the table. The emotion of that particular statement really seemed to strike a nerve within her. Her eyes glistened when she raised her gaze to me. "I hope my mom and the rest of my family will understand that one day. You're ri-right. I ... I'm finally home."

I nodded my head at her in total agreement. Scarlett had a nice, close-knit family whose traditional values were not too keen with the open-ended nature of the relationship she found herself in. With time, though, I had faith that they would accept and embrace the personal decisions Scarlett had made. She was happier than ever before, and it showed. And despite what others may have thought, I was under the firm assumption that our own family led a very healthy lifestyle.

I reached across the table and grasped Scarlett's right hand with my own. "As far as you and your nursing job, sweetheart, I may not fully understand the need for you to do it, and I may not agree with you working those crazy-long shifts you do on a strictly selfish level."

"However, I support you and your desire to continue working," I went on. "You're my fiancee, Scarlett, and I love you. You'll be my wife one day very, very soon. I support whatever decisions you make, even if I do not personally or selfishly agree with them. Please, I want you to understand that, and not listen to any of the gossip that goes on in our family about how I feel concerning your job."

Scarlett sighed and blew the hair off of her face. "Thank you, Jeremy. I know you would like me to quit so all eight of us could spend our days and nights together for the rest of eternity. I know it would be so much easier for our family too; we could hop on the plane on a whim and go wherever we wanted in the world for an extended vacation. Two weeks? Three weeks? Four weeks? Time would not be a constraint." She paused, then frowned. "On the island, I felt so guilty."

"I know you did."

"I know everyone wanted to stay there another week or two," she murmured, her lips twitching with regret. "I did not want to leave, ever. But we had to return to Norway because I had to go back to my job on Monday. I felt guilty because everyone's vacation to the one place you and the other girls hold nearest to your hearts - the island, where you all met - was cut short on account of me."

"We've had this discussion, honey," I reminded her. "No one is blaming you, no one is angry at you. We all support you and your desire to work. Most more than I do, you know. There will be more trips to the island in the future, I am certain. You have vacation time coming up in December, yes?" I smiled and added, "I say we do the trifecta then for holiday visits - Canada, Ohio, then Maryland."

"That would be nice for Trish, Lindsay, Amy and you, and then Pamela so all of you could re-connect with family. Do you think Amy's baby will be old enough by then to go on such a long flight? That might be cutting things a bit close."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"We need a photo," Scarlett suggested, producing her phone from her purse. She framed us expertly with the natural daylight accentuating our features to an even greater extent. At the last second, Scarlett kissed my cheek and the ensuing image was, quite simply, stunning. Staring down at it, I felt a chill shoot throughout my entire body at just how perfect she and I looked together, how right everything felt.

"Wanna walk?"

"I would love to go on a walk with you," I told her. Obviously, she was done with her cheeseburger and fries. It was a quiet, mid-afternoon day on the streets of Sandvika, so each bar, restaurant or club we passed by did not have a lot of, if any, activity yet. Still, Scarlett held firmly to my hand as we walked. The togetherness was extra nice.

We paused in front of a club that had an emblem of a nude female striking a suggestive pose. Obviously, it was a strip club. "You could dance on top of a bar in there," I offered, again teasing her. "Think how much fun that would be for you. Probably make a lot more money there than being a nurse, too."

Scarlett peered up at me. "No, thank you."

We walked a bit further, sharing simple, idle chatter, until Scarlett's eyes suddenly lit up as if a light bulb had popped on over her head. "That's it! We need ice cream."

"Ice cream?"

"Yes, ice cream," she reiterated, stepping ahead and tugging at my arm. Just ahead of us was a small parlor. "Ice cream is the perfect punctuation mark for our little afternoon out together. And this time, Jeremy, I'm buying."

After purchasing our ice cream - vanilla and strawberry for Scarlett and chocolate chip for me - we took the long way back to the car, snagging an extra block here or there as we spoke about nearly everything, not ready for our afternoon to be over just quite yet.

"I had no idea that kids in Norway are basically required to stay in high school until they are 19," I stated, trying to wrap my mind around the concept. "In the United States, everyone usually graduates high school by the time they are 18. Some even early... 17."

"In Norway it is not called high school," Scarlett informed me. "It is called videregående skole, or upper secondary school in English. We rarely use the term high school here. Only when referring to you silly Americans, really."

"Did you play any sports while you were growing up?"

"I was on the girls' cross country and tennis teams," she answered. "In my final year of school, not enough girls tried out for the tennis squad, so I had to compete for a spot on the boys' team. I got it; it felt great."

"Kristanna was big into basketball when she was growing up here, I am told," were my words. "Krissy was already 5-foot-9 by the time she was 13 years old. Her mom and dad thought she would never stop growing, but Krissy only grew another two inches and topped out at 5-foot-11. She said there was never a boy taller than her in her grade until she was 16."

Scarlett giggled. "5-foot-9 by the time she was 13? I am 31 and 5-foot-3, and always feel like a midget next to her."

"She's generally taller than me when she has heels on."

Scarlett chuckled. "Her come-fuck-me pumps?"

I stopped, then tilted my head and smiled at Scarlett. "Do you know what I find so incredibly cute right now?"

"What is that?"

"The ice cream on your face."

Scarlett balked. "There is no ice cream on my face."

"Umm, yes ... there is," I laughed. "Because I'm such a good fiance and don't want you to embarrass yourself any further, I will take care of it for you."

With those words, I leaned down and gently kissed the tiny smidgen of ice cream from Scarlett's mouth, using my tongue ever so gently to aid in the endeavor. I took in the sweet scent of Scarlett's perfume and shampoo, and the silkiness of her lips. Lust curled slowly within me, gaining strength and adding momentum with every tenth of a second that went by. Apparently, I was not alone.

"What's that look?"

"I think it's time we go home," Scarlett said. "Now."

I could tell by the erotic gleam in her eyes exactly where Scarlett's mind was at in the current moment. Fortunately, I was on the exact, same wavelength, right there with her. The hungry lioness was on the prowl, and wanted to lay claim to me!

"Lead the way," I told her.



[[[ End of Chapter 14 ]]]



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 15



Chapter 15: Elysian

- Thursday, June 11, 2015 -

- Sandvika, Norway -

Sitting in the sand next to Amy, I felt so much at ease. The sky overhead was cloudless and the sun was bright, beaming down upon us, while in the distance, rolling, clear-blue waves crashed into one another with great force. The water appeared to have crystals shimmering in it due to the sun's reflection.

Surfers with their boards braved the unknown while seagulls squawked and darted across the sand in a race with the swells. Sailboats lined the horizon, jet-skis hummed and zipped through the choppy waters while two women jogged together and passed by us with a friendly wave and smile.

"This may not be the island we are so used to," Amy told me with a smile, "but it is a fine substitute for now."

Kalvøya Island was a very popular destination for both locals and tourists in southeastern Norway. Located a mere ten minutes from our home in Sandvika, Kalvøya Island was an oversized family playground with a nature walk, basketball and volleyball courts, soccer fields and a whole slew of beaches. It was situated in Oslofjord, an inlet of vast water that was part of the Skagerrak strait, which ultimately led to the Baltic Sea further down the coast.

Automobiles were not permitted on Kalvøya, so Amy and I took the ferryboat from Kadettangen, a peninsula just outside of Sandvika which housed a small harbor. We could have opted to walk across the pedestrian suspension bridge which connected Sandvika and Kalvøya, but I figured that would not be the greatest idea for a woman who was seven months pregnant. Once we reached the island, the officials were kind enough to allow us to borrow a motorized golf cart. All that was needed was for Amy to flash them that glittering smile of hers.

I glanced over at my precious wife and grinned at her myself. God, she was beautiful. And oh, how I loved her so.

Amy wore a maternity dress with printed flower designs and colors that went all the way down to her ankles. Her hair was a glorious rumble of magma-red and cascaded down across her shoulders magnificently. Those lilac-soft, sweet lips tasted like pure bliss and her eyes were as green as a meadow. Amy also wore a pair of klompen, which were wooden clogs made primarily in the Netherlands which served as a unique alternative for traditional footwear. Amy actually thought these huge, wooden monstrosities were comfortable!

I closed my eyes and sighed. Hmmmmm, the ocean and everything about it was purely intoxicating to me - the beach, the horizon, the sound of overlapping waves and the rhythm as they pulsed the shoreline. Most of all, however, I loved the smell and the unmistakable feel of the ocean in the air. It filled and flooded my senses like a powerful aphrodisiac.

Amy giggled as a colorful beach ball came bounding our way and stopped a mere ten feet from her. A group of kids came rushing over and apologized for the inconvenience, then took the ball and went right back to tossing it around like a hot potato. Amy continued to look at them and smile even as I grasped her left hand with my right and squeezed lovingly.

"That's going to be the kids in our family one day," I told her. "Laughing and playing like that, you know." I chuckled gently and wryly added, "I wonder how many there will be once the biblical deluge finally comes to an end?"

Amy turned and looked my way, her nebulous, effervescent eyes trained on me. "The ... biblical deluge?"

I laughed at her tone of voice. "I have six wives as it is, and a seventh on the way in Scarlett. All of you want to have children. While we agreed earlier in the year that each of you are allotted two so our little family does not become too out of control, I figure some of you will sneak in three, if not four." I paused, lost in thought for a moment. "18 to 20 children before it's all said and done?"

"Sounds reasonable."

I hung my head low and sighed, but did it in a good-natured way. How could I possibly survive being the father of upwards of 20 kids with seven different women? Think of how many more extended get me pregnant weeks and months that I would be forced to go through with each of the women on an individual basis before the deed was finally done, much the same as I am doing now with Lindsay. My hair was turning gray as a result of it! Well, if I did not survive the forthcoming onslaught in future years, at least I would go out with a smile on my face.

"I think Scarlett wants to get pregnant after Lindsay."

"She does?" I countered, taken aback. "Scarlett and I are not even getting married until next March."

"Scarlett wants to be six or seven months pregnant when she marries you," Amy informed me, quickly piquing my interest. "Scarlett knows how much of a major turn-on it was for you, Jeremy, when you married Pamela when she was deep into her pregnancy with Piper." My insides began to tingle as Amy added, "Scarlett wants to be standing at the altar, exchanging her vows and promises with you, in a beautiful bridal gown with a massive baby bump. Scarlett is convinced it would make the wedding all the more special for you."

Again, I laughed, yet shook my head at the same time. "You keep going on like that, Amy, and you're gonna get me all hot and bothered on this very public beach with all these families around us." Actually, I was not joking! I felt my cock pulse and rustle around within my trousers at the mere idea of marrying a vibrant and pregnant Scarlett next March. Oh dear God ... think of the creative things she and I could do together on our wedding night!

"I'm not kidding," Amy insisted, even though I did not accuse her of such. "Scarlett told me this herself. She wants to be next in line after Lindsay is pregnant."

"When does Scarlett plan on telling me this herself?"

Amy shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I think she is going to wait until Lindsay becomes pregnant."

"What about Devon? After Lindsay and Scarlett, Devon would be the only one left out."

"Devon is content to wait a year or two," Amy theorized. "Devon is so close with Krissy, you know, and she takes care of Kaden a lot for her when Krissy needs a break. How many times has Devon watched Kaden so you or Krissy could go and spend the day out with one of us, or even each other? Why, right now Devon is watching Kaden and Piper, I think, so Krissy and Pamela could go out shopping and have a peaceful time. Devon likes filling that role in our relationship. She will do it for me if I ever ask her, as well as Trish, and Lindsay and Scarlett in the future too. Devon loves watching after the babies just like Lindsay does."

"Kristanna is going to want to become pregnant a second time as well," I offered.

Amy nodded. "She has spoken to me about that, too. I think Krissy is ready, but doesn't want to press the topic yet. We all want Lindsay to become pregnant before anything."

I decided to change the subject. Enough talk about these wild, crazed hellions using my body as a baby-making factory! Indeed, a biblical deluge was coming. By the year 2025, could I be the father of 20 children?...

"How have you been feeling lately, sweetheart?" I asked Amy, tenderly rubbing my hand up and down her back. "You have seemed a little down and out this week."

"All those long airline miles can kind of do that to you," she countered, obviously referring to our trip from Peru. Amy caressed her baby bump with both hands and confided, "My back has really been bothering me this week. People always say that the final two months of pregnancy are generally the hardest and most difficult to deal with. I believe it."

"Remember what Scarlett told Pamela when she was going through her back pain while pregnant?" I asked Amy. "She said it is not only the added weight causing the back pain, but your body naturally releases chemicals that temporarily loosen your joints to help prepare yourself for delivery. It makes you more flexible but weaker, and more prone to pain."

"Scarlett is like the family physician," Amy grinned. "I love having her around! Scarlett knows my back is bothering me and says she is going to get me a full-length body pillow today which should make it easier and more comfortable to sleep at night." Amy sighed and fretted, "I sure hope so."

I grasped her right hand with both of mine and looked deep into her eyes. "I know the next couple of weeks are going to be rough for you, honey, but we are almost at the finish line. There is a definite light at the end of that tunnel; her name is Dani Grace." Amy suddenly became emotional as I added, "I will be with you for every step of the way and I will do everything in my power to make you comfortable and at ease."

"I know you will, Jeremy," Amy whined, dabbing at her tears. "I know you will." She then broke out into laughter. "I cannot wait until we finally get to meet Dani Grace! I want to hug and kiss on her for hours on end, and tell her how much I love her! I just cannot wait..."

Really now, was this the same Amy who showed up on my island off the coast of Peru some two years ago in June 2013? Was this the same Amy who was so moody and depressed during her first couple of weeks on the island that some of the other ladies actually avoided her?

Amy was a hurt and lost soul at the time, coming off a failed marriage that should have never happened in the first place. Every other relationship she had ever been in ended horribly, usually with the other person (be it a man or woman) having taken extreme advantage of her in a very bad way.

Amy was wounded and angry when I first met her, and enjoyed unleashing her frustration out on others (most notably Lindsay through verbal degradation and extreme sexual domination). She had a mental disorder which was at the root of her issues, but even so it was still a very minor piece to the puzzle.

All Amy needed, as it turned out, was for someone to take a liking to her, and treat her as an actual human being with class, dignity and respect. Her entire outlook on life and the way she perceived others immediately changed once I professed my love for her, and then ultimately my desire to look after and take care of her. I made my intentions clear - I wanted to marry Amy and spend the rest of my life with her.

For the first time in her life, Amy had someone (me) who looked past that hard, rigid exterior of hers - the shield I used to call it - and saw the tender and sweet, loving woman hiding inside, afraid to come out because of how others had wronged her in the past. Once I was able to coax that side of Amy out - and forever extinguish the shield - the other ladies instantly fell in love with her as well.

And ... look at Amy now.

Two years later, a model and picture-perfect wife, and an expectant mother-to-be. I was so incredibly proud of the strides she had made. Amy was, believe it or not, the most even-keeled person in our entire family. She was very calm and cerebral, and took great pride in pleasing and doing things for others (hence her desire to be the family maid).

Even I could have never imagined two years ago that one day, Amy would be a mother and I would have every confidence that her child, or children, would grow up the proper way. I really looked forward to watching Amy continue to evolve as she nurtured and cared for Dani Grace in the coming years.

"I think Dani Grace had a foot wedged against my rib cage this morning," Amy complained. "It was not comfortable at all. I was able to lightly tap on it, though, and she seemed to move her foot away."

"She is getting restless," I grinned. "Probably wants to come out and say hi to her Mommy." Amy let out a shriek in response to that. I found pregnant women and their roller coaster emotions to be so incredibly adorable. All it took was one little comment and a pregnant woman was bawling.

Amy began to giggle again, wiping away her tears, as I brought her into my arms and embraced her warmly.

"It was not comfortable, as I said, but I kind of liked it to be honest," Amy admitted.

"What's that?"

"Her foot pressing against my rib cage," she answered. "It was a reminder that I have a little peanut inside of me, you know, and everything I have been through - and everything I will go through these next two months - is well worth it. The first few months were not easy either, remember. I had a lot of trouble sleeping the first two or three months, and I remember being sick A LOT."

I placed my hand upon Amy's knee and patted it several times in succession. "What did you say a couple of weeks ago? Sometimes it feels like a bag of snakes is in your stomach?" I chuckled at the idea, and the image it gave.

"It does!" Amy insisted, giggling herself. "Whenever Dani Grace punches or jabs, or kicks, it feels like there is bag of snakes in my belly! I swear to you too, those snakes have ears, Jeremy! Every time there is a loud noise, it's like Dani Grace gets startled and starts kicking!"

"Oh, you're priceless," I offered, drawing my lips to Amy's forehead and kissing her gently. "You're so beautiful, too." The swirls of Amy's hair whipped about in the wind as we lounged on the beach, the bright sunlight magnifying her lovely features even more. I rubbed her baby bump and ended, "You are more beautiful now than you ever have been before."

"Thank you, Jeremy," Amy swooned.

"My pleasure, sweetheart."

"Dani Grace can hear every word we say," Amy insisted. "Don't you know that, Jeremy? That is why one reason why babies respond so favorably to their mother and her voice."

"I wonder what little Dani Grace thought last week, on the island, when you were spanking Lindsay and telling her how she was such a naughty, bad girl."

Amy flushed red with embarrassment, then gave a timid smile. "Dani Grace can't understand what we say, at least?"

I laughed. "Let's hope not!"

----

I handed a bottle of drinking water to Amy and accepted a strawberry smoothie from the beverage stand vendor here on Kalvøya Island in exchange for swiping my credit card.

"Hmmmmm, this hits the spot," Amy nodded, going in for a second sip. "I only wish the doctor allowed me to have my coffee, but she won't since I am pregnant."

"That is strange," I mused, "because Pamela's doctor said that she was allowed one cup per day while pregnant as long as she did not have any other caffeine whatsoever."

Amy gave me a look, but relented. "Oh, it's okay, I guess. I have survived seven months without drinking my coffee. I suppose I can last two more until Dani Grace is born."

I sipped my smoothie and Amy took little swigs of her bottled water as we casually strolled back out to our loaner golf cart. Amy exhaled a deep breath and smiled at all of the many families around us. There were so many little kids making their little kid noises. Several people had a smile and/or warm greeting for Amy herself. What was there not to like about a ravishing red-head who was getting ready to pop?

"How much longer do you want to stay here?"

"I don't know," was my honest response. "I was going to kind of leave that up to you, honey. Remember, I have a little villa that I own here on the island, too. We can stop there and enjoy some air conditioning if you would like to get out of the sun for awhile."

"When was the last time you were there?"

"About a month ago with Trish," I said. "There is still some snacks and whatnot in the freezer, I'm sure."

Amy weighed her options for a brief moment. "Your little villa house sounds good ... I think I would like to lay down and relax for a bit if that's okay."

"Of course." I held her hand as she settled down into the passenger seat of the little golf cart. When I went around to the other side and started its engine, Amy looked at me quizzically.

"How have YOU been doing lately, Jeremy?" she wondered. "Krissy loves Kaden, he's a handful for her. Pamela loves Piper, she's a handful as well. I cannot wait for little Dani Grace. Trish is pregnant now too, and we all expect Lindsay to tell us any day that she is expecting as well."

"But you, Jeremy," Amy continued. "You're going to be the father of three children born within a 12 month time span. Trish has her baby, Lindsay hopefully has hers and if you get Scarlett pregnant like she hopes, that's gonna be six children for you in a two year period."

I took a deep breath as I puttered the golf cart along the gravel road. "It is a little overwhelming, I have to admit. I sometimes wonder how I'm going to be able to distribute my time amongst all these kids we are going to have, and be a good enough father for them."

"You do a great job dividing time up for all of us - your wives - and making each one of us feel individual and unique," Amy insisted. "Just do the same for your children."

"It's a little different," I told her. "Actually, a lot. You girls signed up for this relationship and marriage, and knew what you were getting yourselves into. I cannot be seven different places with seven different women at the same time. I wish I could. I wish I could spend a lot more time with you than I actually do, Amy. I wish I could spend more time with Kristanna, Pamela ... and so on."

"We understand that you can't, though, and all of us are fine with it," Amy retorted. "We are a team, remember? While you took Scarlett out yesterday and then spent the afternoon in bed with her, I was out having a GREAT time with Devon and Trish. They took me shopping for more maternity clothes! I may have a husband in you, but I also have five wives in Krissy, Devon, Pamela, Trish and Lindsay, and a smoking-hot girlfriend in Scarlett. If you're occupied on a certain day, Jeremy, there is always someone else for me to spend time and have fun with. And vice versa."

"But you only have one father," I countered. "If we have 20 kids running around the house within ten years..." I paused, then shrugged my shoulders in bewilderment. "I don't know, Amy. I don't know. How could I be a good enough father if I have to divide my time between what amounts to nearly an entire boy and girl scout troop? Children are not going to be happy having their father's undivided attention for one or two days each week, like you and the others are, like Krissy, like Pamela and so forth."

Amy frowned. "I suppose you have a point. Maybe we can sit down as a family and talk about this together? I mean, all the girls want to have their babies. But have we really thought about and discussed what type of strain having this biblical deluge of children, as you called it, would have on you? Maybe we should limit ourselves to one child each?"

"No," I told her, defiant. "I'm not going to ask any of you to limit yourselves to just one child. That would not be fair. I could never do that."

Amy reached out and grasped my wrist. "I would be happy with Dani Grace as my only child, Jeremy. I would, I swear. I just want to have her. With everything that I have been through in my life - all the pain and heartache I have endured - I just want to give birth to Dani Grace and raise her the best way possible. I got my tubes tied at a very young age, which was stupid, then I had that surgery which tried reversing it last September. It was not guaranteed; I had like a 30 percent chance that I could even possibly conceive a baby, let alone actually do it. We tried and tried for me to become pregnant, you and I, but I almost gave up hope. I thought for sure I would never be a mother." Amy smiled and purred, "Then the doctor said I was pregnant..."

"I also think Pamela would be perfectly fine and content with Piper as her only child," Amy kept going. "Pamela went through that nasty round of Postpartum Depression, you know, and does not want to run the risk of it happening again."

"Yet then there is Krissy and Lindsay, for example, who have both dreamed of having four or five kids," I grumbled in response. "How can I take that away from them? We already got the cap, so to speak, on two babies per wife."




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 15



"Don't you think Lindsay feels some sort of motherly connection with Kaden and Piper?" Amy asked me. "We are all married, Jeremy. We are a family. Look how often Lindsay watches after Kaden and Piper. Look how Lindsay's face just LIGHTS UP like a Christmas tree whenever she sees either of them. Devon watches them too, Scarlett, Trish ... everyone. All of us LOVE Kaden and Piper as if they were our very own. Krissy loves Piper. Pamela loves Kaden."

Amy nodded her head and kept talking, "Maybe that's the thing. Each of us have one child apiece, maybe one or two have two, and we keep the number somewhat under control. Dani Grace may technically be my daughter, but I know that everyone is going to have a say in raising her. I will have a say in how Kaden and Piper are raised. I already do. We are a family, Jeremy. That's what families do."

"Krissy and Lindsay do not need five kids apiece," Amy surmised, "because they will already be mothers - in a way - to every child in the family. I think a number between seven and ten sounds ideal, actually. It would surely lessen the load and the burden on you, Jeremy." Amy nodded her head one more time. "Yeah! Let's sit down and talk about it as a family one night soon, okay?"

----

"Women like flowers."

"Lindsay is not exactly your traditional type of girl," I reminded Amy.

"Then get her a candy bar."

"Really?"

"Buy her a Milky Way and a Mountain Dew," was Amy's suggestion. "You can't lose."

I stifled a laugh. "Noted. I think from now on, I will come to you for any and all gift-giving advice."

"Well, duh."

Amy and I were lounging in the quaint, little cottage that I owned here on Kalvøya Island. The villa was not large at all - it was the size of a studio apartment, at best, and was situated in a small residential district of the island. I was sitting on the sofa and Amy was stretched out to my side, barefoot with her legs draped over my lap. Of course, I was giving her a thorough foot massage at the same time.

"What's that look for?"

Amy blinked. "What look?"

"That far, far, far away in dreamland thing you got going on over there."

Amy shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs. "Groceries. Making a mental list."

I smirked. "Must be some pretty awesome groceries."

"They are. Most definitely."

"Can't you just admit that whenever I give you a foot massage, your defenses go weak and you turn to silly putty?"

Amy giggled. "I turn to silly putty?" She grinned and nodded her head. "Okay, okay ... I admit, I like it."

Amy slowly sat up and swung her legs so both feet were on the floor, but then hooked one around my knee and lower calf as I sat next to her. She reached out and touched my face, her eyes fixated on me. I easily picked up the scent of citrus and honey, which suddenly had my heart pounding and my head spinning. Amy was so many wonderful things, and intoxicating definitely ranked high on the list.

I held Amy's gaze and glided my hands gently up her arms and shoulders, across her collarbone to her neck, until I cradled her face in my hands. Amy initiated the contact; she moved in closer and pressed her lips to mine for a kiss.

Amy's mouth was warm, wonderful and inviting. I angled my head for better access and then pressed deeper into her mouth. Amy let out an audible sigh as our lips and tongues danced with sizzling abandon. She squished her breasts upon me and my hand was massaging her baby bump (naturally). Amy actually sucked on my bottom lip and swiped at it within her mouth, sending hot pangs of desire shooting all throughout me.

With my opposite hand, I placed it upon Amy's backside and pulled her even tighter toward me. My breathing came in deep rasps once our kiss had finally reached its conclusion. There was only one direction we could go from here.

"Take off all of your clothes," I said, the tone of my voice much more a demand than it was a request. "Everything." After all, Amy and I had a little Dominant-and-submissive facet to our personal relationship. I refused to be overly aggressive and physical with her from the very moment that I learned she was pregnant, of course, but that did not mean I could not guide her verbally and do it with a firm hand.

Amy did not hesitate whatsoever. She loosened her pretty, full-length maternity dress. I sat back and idly watched as she then slid the garment downward and those luscious breasts, concealed by a silky white bra, came into view. I placed my hand upon her hip and helped nudge her upward until she was able to get the dress past her waistline and thighs, then kick it off completely. Amy actually stood up and hooked both thumbs into her panties, only to reveal a thin stripe of red pubic hair. At the same time, I disposed of her bra.

Amy had suddenly become quite timid and quiet, yet very alert and responsive. She was a natural submissive.

"Now go over to the bed and lie down on it," I instructed her. She nodded her head at me, but I again decided to hold her hand as I escorted her over to it.

Amy's bare ass and back pressed onto the mattress as she sat down gingerly and then reclined upon it. I had a sudden hunger which would only be taken care of by the taste of one, specific meal; clearly the tastiest meal in the universe.

Getting down on my knees, I parted Amy's thighs and flicked my tongue over and across her nether lips. I swiped and dabbed away as I undid each button on my shirt, one by one. Soon, I began to feverishly work on her clitoris.

I had Amy moaning and whimpering within mere seconds. It certainly helped that ever since she became pregnant, even the slightest touch could send her flying with passion. Amy was overly rambunctious and, needless to say, more than a bit horny. The Germans believed that all red-heads had three times as powerful of a sex drive than all other women did. Whether true or not, Amy was positive proof for it.

The trick I had found with Amy when performing oral sex on her was to keep up the same motion and rhythm until her reaction evened out. Then, it was time to change things up.

Amy's appreciation for my efforts sounded like a chorus of angels singing within my ears. The way she worked her feet against my neck and back sent my mind into a dizzying haze of total arousal. I slid a single finger into her silky entrance as I worked on the remainder of my clothing with my other hand. Amy actually giggled as I gently bit and teased her little pearl. My pleasure was multiplying by the second, her inner thighs rubbing and caressing my face.

I slipped a second finger inside as Amy quivered against the soft mattress. Her fingers curled up in my hair, pulling me harder into her valley. I gave her the tongue lashing of an absolute lifetime. She responded in kind and Amy braced herself, smashing her fists upon the bed and holding them there. Thus, I knew that her breaking point was here.

Amy's entire body rippled with passionate energy as she let out one final cry. I kept lapping away, luxuriating in the sense of her overload. She clamped her thighs around my head, her hands buried within my hair to press my mouth tightly upon her pussy. Amy bounced and vibrated beneath me as her hips and legs swung from side to side. She seemed to lose control of her own body due to the immense pleasure.

In the aftermath, Amy gasped in utter satisfaction and settled even deeper into the bed, cupping and squeezing her breasts with both hands, her dewy, Eden-green eyes full of love and devotion, and fixated squarely on me.

"That was ... I cannot even think of a word," Amy gushed, still in recovery mode. "That required ... it required ... a greater than symbol from math class."

"Were you good at math?"

"I don't even know. My brain is too scrambled to even think straight now." I slid in beside Amy upon the bed and, grinning broadly, kissed her. "What?" she asked.

"Just thinking how content I am right now in this moment, alone with you." Amy sighed at my words as I added, "Well, you and Dani Grace." I traced my finger along the bulge of her belly. "God, Amy ... you look radiant."

"I certainly don't FEEL radiant!" she deadpanned. "Most of the time I don't, at least."

"Trust me, honey ... you are." I captured Amy's mouth in a kiss that took no time to ignite our mutual flame yet again.

All of a sudden, however, Amy grasped my wrists and pulled away, halting our kiss. "Wait, wait, wait," she insisted.

Concerned, I stared down at her. "Are you okay?" Oh God, was Amy going into early contractions? It wasn't time yet!

"I just..."

"What is it?"

"I'm just ... I'm just ... so happy."

I smiled at her, but breathed a tremendous sigh of relief on the inside. The last thing that I wanted was for there to be another complication with Amy's pregnancy. I could not wait to meet my little daughter, indeed, but I did not want to see her at all before these next two months were up. I wanted Mother Nature to take its course and for us to have a perfectly healthy child.

"You have no idea how happy I am right now," Amy offered, again becoming emotional. "Not just here with you, Jeremy, but my entire life. OUR life." She turned away from me for a second, but I guided her chin back so our gazes were right in line yet again. Amy had tears in her eyes.

"Look at the background that I have," Amy mewed. "I never had any brothers or sisters; I grew up alone. I could cook and take care of myself by the time I was eight or nine years old. My parents never wanted anything to do with me; they even told me that I was a mistake, and I should have never been born. Mom said they almost gave me up for adoption."

"All of the horrible relationships I was in as I became older and independent," she pressed forward. "I once had a boyfriend, Jeremy, who rented me out to others for sex. He RENTED ME OUT. That was how we made enough money to survive and pay the rent, pay bills each month."

"I know, honey," I whispered, kissing her on the forehead for emphasis. "I know. Shhhhh. You've told me before. But all of that ... it's in the past now."

"I owe everything to y-you," Amy trembled, starting to cry now. "I ... I think about th-this a lot, but I d-don't know if I have ever r-really mentioned it to y-you." I held her warmly, compassionately, as she continued, "I was so lost, so an-angry ... for s-so many ye-years. I was m-m-mad at th-the world, and con-convinced that everyone was out to ... get me."

Amy glanced downward - toward her baby bump - and the tears really began to flow. "Oh God, J-Jeremy ... I'm going to be a mother! I ... I'm going to be mother! I never thought..."

"Settle down," I insisted, trying to soothe her. "Settle down, sweetheart, and relax." I brushed the hair from Amy's forehead tenderly. She looked both incredibly beautiful and vulnerable, and that combination was something very powerful.

"Hey, look at me," I told her. When Amy's eyes again settled on mine, I smiled at her. "Stop dwelling on the past. Look at me, will you? I lived on a deserted island for 16 years with very minimal contact from the outside world. I certainly do not let that affect me nowadays."

Amy actually giggled. "You and I have a fucked-up past, Jeremy. Pamela too, I guess."

I chuckled as well. "That's why we go so well together."

"Let me show you something." Amy picked up my right hand and kissed its palm before placing it over her heart. "Do you feel that, Jeremy? That's you."

"That's me," I repeated, as if I was telling myself. Did Amy just insinuate that I am the reason her heart beats? Wow ... what a nice compliment from such an amazing woman.

"YOU make me feel loved, Jeremy. The other girls make me feel loved." Amy seemed to take a moment to revel in that thought. "I ... I'm so lucky. I'm so ... fortunate. I never imagined ... that life could be ... this good."

"You've certainly made my life better, sweetheart."

Amy glanced all around the little villa, then focused back on me. "I kind of like it here; it's romantic," she swooned. "Do you think ... we could stay here a little longer than expected? Just you and me? Maybe ... spend the night?"

"You want to spend the night in this tiny little house?"

"With you I do," she answered resolutely. "Do you think the others would mind at all?"

I shook my head in response. "We tell them that we are having a nice day alone together and want to extend it until the morning? No one will have any issues with that."

Amy sat up in bed as if she suddenly had the energy of a hundred eager squirrels. And her expression conveyed that. "Does that mean we can spend the night here? You and I?"

"If the others agree to it, which they will, yes."

Amy maneuvered herself onto my lap and hooked her arms around my neck, then placed the side of her face upon my shoulder and literally began to purr like a kitten. I slid an arm around her waist and squeezed tenderly.

"I love you, Jeremy," Amy proclaimed, shifting about and now gazing up at me. "I love you so much." She found my mouth with her own and together we danced in the luxury the kiss provided. "You know what else I love?" she murmured. "Kissing you like this." Amy pulled me closer with her embrace. "For as long as I want. And whenever I want."

"Oh, I love you too, baby," I assured her, as our lips met once more and my hands drifted over those magnificent breasts and fondled them thoroughly.

It seemed as if this was going to be a day (and night) that I would not soon forget. That was quickly becoming a recurring theme for me. I saw all six of my wives daily (and the one fiancee too) and spent plenty of time with them, but I was getting into the routine of focusing on a different one with each new day that came along.

Yesterday, it was Scarlett. A few days back? Trish, and then Trish and Lindsay together later that evening. Today, obviously Amy. So ... which lady would tomorrow bring?

And Amy thought she was the lucky one?...

[[[End of Chapter 15]]]



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 16



-------

Chapter 16: Jackpot

-- Friday, June 12, 2015 --

-- Sandvika, Norway --

Kaden slept in his favorite position, on his tummy, with his little blanket and teddy bear in close proximity. I smiled at the mere sight of him in his crib, then gently caressed his little face and head. Sensing my touch, Kaden stirred. I picked up the sleepy bundle and held him close, relishing the feel of my 10 month old son against my heart.

Kaden had Kristanna's eyes. That was good, because the more he looked like her - and the less like me - the better off Kaden would be in the long run! In all seriousness, Kaden resembled his mother in several ways.

Kristanna was visiting her own mother and father on the opposite end of the sprawling, 300-acre farm that our family shared with them. Pamela went out somewhere with Amy and took Piper with them, so I was left in charge of Kaden. It was 11:30am and Kristanna, his doting mother, wanted to keep him on the strictest of routines. It was time to rouse him from his morning nap and change his diaper.

Over the past month (and with our pediatrician's approval), Kristanna and I had introduced fresh seafood into Kaden's regular diet twice a week. He seemed to enjoy flounder the most. It was very low in mercury and easy for his system to digest. Thus, she had left me a recipe for his lunch.

I baked one small flounder fillet and then diced it up into pieces. I tossed it into a bowl and mixed it with a tiny amount of peas, carrots and potatoes (all mashed), along with a small helping of milk and salt, and melted butter. I swirled it up with a spoon and tossed in some fresh noodles for good measure (my own touch!).

"A finger food meal fit for a king," I announced with a smile, setting the warm plate down in front of him at the precise time of 12:00pm (again, Kristanna's schedule). Kaden's eyes had been on me the entire time I prepared his meal; he was hungry, bouncing about in his high chair. He immediately popped two peas, then worked on a single noodle.

"I can't believe you're not going to be there," Lindsay said to Trish as both ladies casually made their way into the kitchen. When they noticed that Kaden and I were at the table, Lindsay turned toward me momentarily and greeted in a very strange bizaare tone, "Oh ... hi there, Jeremy!"

She immediately switched her focus to Kaden, though, and darted over to him. "Good afternoon, handsome! Is that lunch? Is that your LUNCH? Hmmmmm ... it looks SOOOOO yummy!" Lindsay pointed at a carrot fragment. "Can you eat that for me?" She made a silly face at him. "You don't want me to eat it, do you? I'm gonna steal your carrot if you don't eat it first!" Kaden gave Lindsay his best scrunchy face in return, but then pawed the carrot and swallowed it down. "Yayyyyy!" Lindsay swooned at him. "That's a good boy!" Kaden squealed in utter delight at Lindsay and her positive vibrations, his arms flailing about wildly.

"I love you!" she chirped at him, looking deep into his eyes and kissing his forehead. "I love you so much! C'mon now, sweetie ... eat some more! Eat some more for me!"

Trish was already perched upon my lap with my arm around her waistline, my hand across her stomach. Of course, Trish had just informed me a mere four days ago that she was pregnant with our first child. It was going to be my fourth overall, but my first with her. I was still reeling from the news (and overcome with both happiness and delight). Nestled all nice and snug on my lap, Trish gave me a simple, romantic kiss and waited for Lindsay to finish with Kaden.

"Who am I going to run heists with?" Lindsay asked Trish, apparently (?) picking up their discussion where it left off seconds ago as they first entered the kitchen. "You and me, and Alison. The three of us make such a good crime team. We are the Three Hellions of Fear of San Andreas." Alison? Lindsay's younger sister from Ohio, Alison? The three of them ran heists together? San Andreas? A crime team? Huh?

"It's just one Friday night that I'm going to miss, baby," Trish assured her. "I really need to get my hair done and tonight at 5:30 is the only appointment Amalie had available on her schedule at the salon until late next week."

"It won't be the same without you!" Lindsay pouted.

"You're being a little over-dramatic."

"I am not," Lindsay insisted, blinking back at her.

"Okay, no. Don't you dare shoot me those Bambi eyes. You know I can't stand them, nor is it fair."

Lindsay exhaled deeply. "Fine. No Bambi impersonations, but now I'm so depressed. We came SO CLOSE to breaking that dude out of jail the other night and getting away from the cops. I thought for sure we would get it tonight!" She sighed yet again. "Alison is gonna be so disappointed."

"We'd have completed that heist if you knew how to drive."

"Hey!" Lindsay fired back at her.

"What in the HECK are you two talking about?" I had to interject, as Kaden chortled at the sudden change in my tone.

"Grand Theft Auto!" Lindsay beamed in response. Ahhhhh yes, of course ... video games. One of Trish and Lindsay's favorite past-times together. In Grand Theft Auto, gamers went online into a virtual world with others and could assume the role of a mastermind criminal. They could team up and run difficult heists for great rewards, or take turns killing each other off during turf wars. And so many other things, too, such as stealing cars and boats and using them to race. Oh, the game had strip clubs too. And nude dancers inside them.

"You know every Friday night at five o'clock sharp, I play Grand Theft Auto with Trish and Alison," Lindsay reminded me. "Now we missed it the past few weeks because we were in Canada, and then the island. I was SO looking forward to tonight. Alison was, too!" Lindsay pouted again, but I could sense that she had some playfulness in her complaining. "But then Trish goes and has to get a hair appointment right in the middle of Friday night gaming time! Screw her hairdresser!"

"Can't you just play the game once she gets back?"

Lindsay peered at me as if I was clueless. "Ummmmm ... hello? There is a six hour time difference between Norway and Ohio. Alison has to work two to ten tonight, which means by eight o'clock Norway time, she will be gone. I wonder if Trish will even be home by then!"

Trish thought on this, trying to find a proper solution. "I'm sure you and I can find out when Alison is going to be available this weekend, honey, and hook up online with her."

"We can do that whenever we want," Lindsay squealed. "But we ALWAYS do our Friday gaming night with Alison, unless we're on vacation elsewhere like the past few weeks." Lindsay snagged an apple from the bowl on the counter and flung her long-flowing blonde tresses behind her shoulder theatrically. "Oh, this is so unright of you, Trish."

"You know I needed to get my hair done three weeks ago," Trish reminded her. "It's out of control now. I really need to get in and see Amalie as soon as possible."

"I get it. Just makes me sad," Lindsay frowned. And she really did look the saddest of the sad. So, Lindsay turned to Kaden for comfort and nudged her nose against his. "Can you give me a kiss, wild man, and make me feel better?" Seconds later, Lindsay was beaming once the deed was done.

"I'll make it up to you, honey," Trish promised her.

"Maybe I should bake cookies," Lindsay theorized out loud. "If I bake cookies, will you change your mind and cancel your salon appointment, Trish? You can't resist my cookies."

"NO ONE on the planet could possibly resist YOUR cookies," Trish countered. Somehow, I knew the term encompassed much more right now than your typical chocolate chip delight.

Lindsay passed Trish a look, yet still embraced her. "It's wrong. It's backward, actually, that you're flaking out on me and Alison after we came so close to completing that heist the other night. If I could be frank, you and your wild mane of brown hair, my lovely bride, can wait until next week."

"If you're Frank, then who do I get to be?"

Lindsay glared back at Trish, but grinned. "Funny. You are a funny, flake-out-on-your-wife sort of girl."

Trish stood up from my lap and announced, "If you will excuse me, I'm going to go find Devon and stare at her for awhile because she is so gorgeous, and I could never get enough of that. Else, if I stay, Lindsay may just force me to change my mind about my appointment tonight."

Trish tickled Kaden's belly with a finger and serenaded him with kisses, then held my hand and smiled at me while slowly backing away. Once our mutual grip was broken, Trish turned and exited the kitchen, a bounce in her step.

"Tell Devon that she's hot for me!" Lindsay called out.

"You're not mad at Trish about tonight, are you?"

Lindsay gave me a face. "Psssssh. Of course not. I was just playing with her, teasing her, you know?" Lindsay came over and settled down upon my lap. "Besides, Trish will cancel the hair appointment. I know she will. There is no possible way that Trish would miss our Friday night gaming night after not having it for the past three weeks."

"Do I get to taste your cookies?"

Lindsay giggled and hooked her arms around my neck and shoulders. "You can taste my cookies whenever you want, Jeremy." Lindsay's mouth quickly covered mine for a kiss with a desire and admiration that I surely hoped would last forever. I had one hand on her knee and the other around her back. I reeled my young wife in closer, relishing the feel of her supple curves upon my body.

Once our kiss ended, Lindsay turned and smiled at Kaden. "How. Come. You're. So. Cute!" She spaced each word out for dramatic effect. "How come you're so cute?" Kaden laughed and blew baby bubbles as he held a piece of flounder in his hand. He became hysterical, though, once Lindsay took a heavy clump of her hair and brushed it back and forth across his face. "Oh, he likes that!" Lindsay exclaimed. "How. Come. You're. So. Cute!"

The interactions that Lindsay had with Kaden, as well as Piper, were always pure magic to me. I know it has been mentioned many times before, but Lindsay wanted to become a mother herself in the worst way possible. She was so good to Kaden and Piper, and both of them adored her beyond belief. Whenever I saw Lindsay with one of them, or even both at the same time, I could not stop thinking about what an excellent mother she was going to be one day. Of course, I had to get her pregnant first. The process was still ongoing.

Needless to say, Lindsay also looked fabulous right now. She tied her hair into a ponytail as I watched her, and with a white t-shirt and little blue hoodie, her eyes popped with amazing color. The rip in her jeans was customary and thereby quite appealing. Kind of like her signature. Lindsay looked fresh-faced. Youthful. Beautiful. But then again, she always looked beautiful. She was, after all, Lindsay.

Something out of the ordinary, however, was that Lindsay had the design of a red heart - a glitter tattoo - on her left cheek. It was temporary, of course, but I had never seen any stenciled art on her like this before. I realized that Lindsay was still quite young at age 20, but wasn't glitter tattoos generally the type of thing that high school cheerleaders put on to prepare for the big game? Young girls still in puberty enjoyed experimening with them, right?

Even more unique, there were three silver stars - also made of glitter - that went down her cheek and neck, to a second heart on its side. I stared at the designs for a few seconds, wondering why she had decided upon this for today, but ultimately chose not to acknowledge them. Yet.

Lindsay tried to steal a noodle from Kaden's plate, but he caught her red-handed and gave her the evil glare. "Uh oh!" Lindsay giggled, placing it back where she found it. "Kaden is not in a sharing mood today! Don't you know sharing is caring, Kaden? Sharing is caring!"

Lindsay then turned her gaze back to me. "I need to go to the store a little while later and pick a few things up. You and Kaden want to come with me, or will Krissy be back home by then? We can go after Kaden's three o'clock nap."

"That depends," I grinned at her. "Are you going to drive the same way you do in Grand Theft Auto? You know that I don't want Kaden to have any terrifying experiences."

"No way. I take my driving very seriously and I promise no bodily harm to either you or Kaden."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"Well, Kaden only. No bodily harm to him. But you?"

I nodded my head. "And the truth comes out."

"You like kisses!" Lindsay said to Kaden, planting five quick ones on his chin. "Oh, that's not a face to show you like kisses." She tried again with five more. "There we go! Oh ... you seem tired. Daddy wake you from your nap before you wanted? Oh ... but you have to eat, Kaden. You have to eat so you can grow up and be big and strong!"

God, I loved Lindsay. She was so adorable right now. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her there. I could not wait until she had a child of her own!

"Well, since my baby left me," Lindsay broke out into musical song, her voice as deep as could be. "Well, I found a new place to dwell!" Kaden again squealed with delight and even clapped his hands together in response. "Well, it's down at the end of Lonely Street. At Heartbreak Hotel!"

"Maybe you could get Kaden to play Grand Theft Auto with you," I suggested.

"He'd probably be better at it than you," Lindsay told me. "You flat-out suck at it."

"WOW..." I chuckled in response. "Wow, honey. So cruel."

"I killed you 34 times in a row that one night."

"I rarely play those games with you and Trish!" I said, trying to defend what little dignity I had left. "It's not like I have a whole lot of practice in them, you know."

Wanting to get another rise out of Kaden, Lindsay went into deep verse yet again with her voice. "Well now, if your baby leaves you. And you have a sad tale to tell. Just take a walk down Lonely Street. To Heartbreak Hotel!" Lindsay flipped the end of her ponytail over his face, squeaking, "You would never leave me. Would you, Kaden?" She hugged him to her, adding, "I'm never going to let this baby leave me!"

"What is that for?" I finally asked Lindsay, unable to hold it in any longer. I was pointing toward the red, heart-shaped glitter tattoo on Lindsay's left cheek. For some strange, odd reason, its idea and allure had grown on me over the past minute or so. I really liked the look of it on Lindsay.

"Oh, this?" Lindsay casually smiled, dabbing at her cheek with a trio of fingers. "I was wondering when you were going to ask about it, Jeremy. What is it? It's a treasure map!"

"A ... treasure map?" I was confused again.

"Yeah, a treasure map! You have to follow the map and, at the end, you will find a nice, big treasure! A pirate's prized booty, I tell you!" Lindsay shifted her hoodie jacket down her shoulders slightly, then peeled back the collar of her white t-shirt. The heart on her cheek was connected to the one on her neck by three glittery stars. Below it, a red heart was on her collarbone which had been previously covered, and had three more stars trailing to the other side.

"Ahhhhh, I get it." Yes, the light bulb finally popped on above my head. "If I follow the trail of hearts, I find the treasure. But what treasure?" The trail began on her face and seemed to continue on beneath her t-shirt. Hmmmmm. That could only mean one thing, right? Lindsay's pussy was the treasure? Were these glitter tattoos a very elaborate and creative way of Lindsay asking me to perform oral sex on her? What else could this so-called treasure be?

"You want to find out what the treasure is?" she asked, her voice suddenly all steamy and seductive. I was caught off-guard, not prepared for it in the slightest. But her voice gave it away. Yes, she wanted oral sex.

"Honey, we can't do anything like that in front of the baby," I admonished her.

"Let's go to the next room so you can go treasure hunting," she suggested, motioning toward the den.

"Trish and I will watch Kaden for you," Devon suddenly chimed in from behind me. I turned and found her and Trish at the far entrance to the kitchen. The expression upon Devon's face told me that she was trying a conceal a massive smile. I got the impression that Devon and Trish had been standing there a lot longer than they wanted me to believe.

"C'mon Jeremy," Lindsay insisted, hopping off of my lap and tugging at my arms. "There might be a pot at the end of the rainbow!" As Devon came over and tended to Kaden, I gave in and let Lindsay drag me off toward the den. Oddly enough, there was a big blanket in the middle of the floor.

I tried to kiss Lindsay and get rid of her hoodie jacket, but she slipped free of my grasp and scurried underneath the heavy blanket in a hurry. Giggling, she reclined upon the floor and brought the blanket all the way up to her chin. "Hold your horses there, buster," Lindsay advised me. "I know you want your treasure, but you need to take it slow. She pointed at the glitter heart on the side of her face. "You need to follow the trail and kiss each heart along the way to prove that you love me. And you need to take it SLOW." Since when did Lindsay ever want sex or foreplay to be slow?

Underneath the blanket, it was obvious that Lindsay was shedding her clothes. This was confirmed when she tossed her hoodie, t-shirt and even her bra out and elsewhere on the floor. Still, she kept the blanket up to her chin and again tapped the side of her face. "C'mon, baby ... come claim your treasure!"

Well, this was different.

Regardless, I dropped down to the floor beside her and moved my lips toward the temporary heart tattoo on her face. "Remember, GO SLOW," she told me and I did, gently kissing the design and even lingering there for several seconds. I then followed the silvery trail and offered the heart on her neck the same treatment. At the same time, Lindsay nudged the blanket down until her shoulders were exposed.

"Don't you dare touch this cover," she warned me. "I'm the only one allowed to move the cover." Lindsay giggled as I kissed the heart on her collarbone. "Oh, I like that." I went below her neck to the opposite shoulder, then to the center of her chest. Lindsay accommodated me by gliding the top of the blanket just beneath her breasts, fully exposing them. Ahhhhh, the good stuff. There was a heart next to each nipple and a trail with two more in her scrumptious, humble cleavage. I paid extra special attention to the heart on each breast, slurping and sucking her nipples for good measure. Hmmmmm ... perhaps a slow treasure hunting game wasn't such a silly idea after all, huh?

Following the stars, I went through her cleavage. Lindsay was quickly becoming aroused as not only did I kiss both hearts, but I slid my tongue between them with slow, languid swipes. I could hear her actual heart thumping within her chest. She nudged the cover downward again, exposing a heart design at the very top of her flat, toned belly. I kissed it and the trail ventured off to the side. How much longer before I found the treasure? How much longer before I had my lips and tongue buried in her womanly delights? Hell, my entire face? My cock was getting hard with anticipation!

"You're doing a good job, and you've been behaving," Lindsay praised me, before gliding the blanket down to her waistline. "I think it's time you claim your treasure."

The heart on her side, near where her kidney was, had a trail of silver stars which led to the very center of her stomach. Instead of a heart, however, I found a single, four-letter word spelled out with yellow and blue glitter there. And it hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Baby?" I said, rattling off what I saw. "Baby?" Indeed, in big, bold letters, it read Baby across her abdomen. "OH MY GOD!" I screamed as I glanced up and noticed that Lindsay now had tears welling up in her eyes. "OH ... MY GOD! Lindsay! YOU'RE PREGNANT? This is so great! YOU'RE PREGNANT!"




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 16



"I am!" Lindsay cried out in total euphoria, tossing her arms around me as I moved up to meet her. "I'm finally gonna be a mom! I'm gonna be a MOM!"

I heard crying in the background, only to look up and notice Devon and Trish again watching us. This time, however, Trish had Kaden in her arms, his eyes facing away from us, and Devon had her tablet out and was obviously filming the news. Trish looked so happy; she could not control her emotions at all. It would be next to impossible to rip the smile from Devon's face. Obviously, they found out well before I did.

"Oh my God," I repeated over and over as Lindsay first sat in my lap, then wrapped her legs around my torso and squeezed as tight as she could. Her arms were equally tight around my neck and shoulders, a constant stream of happy giggles and joyful sobs coming from her mouth. "Oh my God. Oh my God!"

Overcome with emotion, Lindsay pulled away and held up three home pregnancy test strips before my eyes. Each of them had two lines on them instead of one, signifying a positive result. She then broke down crying and gave me another bear hug as the realization hit me that now, baby number five was on the way!

Just four days ago, Trish told me that she was pregnant herself! And now this? Twice in the same week from two different wives? Amy was less than two months away from giving birth to Dani Grace? OH MY GOD!

"Can you believe it?" Lindsay laughed and cried at me.

"No! When did you find out?"

"Last night! I came home from church and..."

"No way!" I interjected, elated myself. "You knew since last night and didn't even tell me until now?"

"You and Amy spent last night on Kalvøya Island and did not even get home until two hours ago," she reminded me. "I almost called and told you last night, but I wanted to do it in person. I also wanted it to be special! So Trish helped me come up with the idea of the glitter hearts and the treasure map. Throw you off track a bit! We also made up the whole story about Trish flaking out on me and my sister about Grand Theft Auto and her hair appointment. We wanted to add some spice to our elaborate scheme!"

"No way..."

"You should know, Jeremy, that I would NEVER choose anything over spending time with Lindsay!" Trish mewed.

"Last night, I came home from church and decided that I was gonna take a test, but I fully expected it to come up negative," Lindsay explained, tears running down her face. "I looked up two minutes later, though, and it had two lines ... and I like totally freaked out. All of the others heard me and came rushing in, wondering what was wrong, but then I showed them the strip and they started screaming too! I took another test an hour later and then a third this morning. They both came up positive, too!"

Perhaps my own signature in life was placing my right hand upon the belly of a pregnant wife and simply holding it there. I was not even aware that my hand had somehow involuntarily found its way to Lindsay's abdomen. When it did, though, she let out a wild shriek of pure emotion and temporarily covered her face with both hands.

How many times had Lindsay watched me do this to the others, such as Kristanna, Pamela and Amy, even Trish this week, and secretly wish that it was her instead? Now, her time was at hand. Her stomach was going to be the object of my attention quite a bit from now on. And you know what? Lindsay better get used to it!

"Come here!" Lindsay demanded of Trish, motioning for her with both arms. Trish was a total wreck now, overcome with joy herself, as she hurried over and dropped down to her knees just beside us. I checked on Kaden and his whereabouts; he was with Devon now, who continued to film our every move with her tablet. Lindsay hugged me with one arm and Trish with the other, then pulled us both together and it quickly turned into a three-way embrace. Lindsay began to bounce and vibrate upon us in jubilation. I even began to cry myself. The emotion of the moment and everything about it was too much to handle.

"This is what we wanted all along!" Trish wailed at Lindsay. "We get to be pregnant at the same time!"

"We found out so close together, our babies may even be born on the same day!" Lindsay giggled. "In the same room!"

"Oh dear God, that would be awesome!" Trish bawled.

"We're having a family celebration tonight!" Lindsay exclaimed. "I want to tell my mom and all of my sisters over web-cam. I want to see their faces when I tell them!" She tossed both arms around me one more time and squeezed tightly. "I love you, Jeremy! Thank you! Thank you! We did it ... WE'RE PREGNANT! I love you so much!"

I honestly did not know what made me happier. Was it the fact that I had yet another child on the way, or that finally, after half a year of trying, Lindsay was pregnant? She had waited her entire life for this moment, and now it was here.

The answer to my question suddenly became crystal-clear. The look on Lindsay's face was so genuine, and priceless. She was happier now than I had ever seen her before.

And that, in turn, made me happier than ever before...

[[[ End of Chapter 16 ]]]



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 17



-------

Chapter 17: Genealogy

-- Sunday, June 14, 2015 --

-- 41,000 Feet Over The Atlantic Ocean --

I awoke to the sound of running water and took a moment to figure out why I was not home in my own bed back in Sandvika. There was a flat-panel television monitor embedded in the wall at the foot of this unfamiliar, yet highly comfortable bed, with an American sporting event blaring away on it. Game 4 of the NBA Finals between the Golden State Warriors and the Cleveland Cavaliers, which actually took place three days prior, was being played in a continual loop. I watched the end of the game two hours ago; Golden State won, 103-82.

I stretched. My body felt loose and relaxed and sore, all mixed together in the most wonderful way. There were four small, circular windows, made of triple-layered acrylic plastic, to my immediate left, the sun beaming brightly through them. A set of women's clothing - a pair of jeans, a tank-top, bra, panties, shoes and sneakers - were folded in a nice, neat little stack on top of the adjacent recliner. To my right, the washroom door was partially open and there was the unmistakable sound of Lily Allen, the famed British pop musician, playing from the in-shower radio. Actually, I think the music woke me more than the running water did.

Hmmmmm ... yes. I was aboard our private family jetliner, an Airbus A319 ACJ, and was en route from Oslo, Norway to the Dayton International Airport in Vandalia, Ohio. Yay! ... chalk up another 4,000 miles of airline travel for me. This plane had been custom-built from front to back. Several of my wives dubbed it a flying hotel because it had nearly every amenity that one could find in a five-star resort. I spared no expense on it and was quite happy with the result. This luxury bedroom was just one of its many highlights.

Unlike previous transoceanic excursions, however, the great majority of the ladies - as well as both of my children - were still home in Norway. In fact, aside from my outstanding personal flight crew (Captain Mike, his wife Carolyn and her sister Barbara, and co-pilot Craig), the only other person on this eight hour jaunt across the mighty Atlantic Ocean was my precious and (most) newly pregnant wife, Lindsay.

After informing me two days ago that she was expecting (due date: February 15, 2016), Lindsay decided that instead of telling her mother and three sisters the wonderful news via Skype and video chat on the Internet, she much rather do so in person. It took some serious prodding and a whole lot of sweet talk on her part (and several hundred battings of her eyelashes), but Lindsay was somehow able to convince me to round up my personal flight crew and compensate them nicely to escort the two of us on yet another long, daunting flight so she could break the news to her family face-to-face.

Hey, I was still feeling remnants of jet lag of our trip from Peru to Oslo from just last weekend. How could I have possibly allowed Lindsay to talk me into this?

Lindsay and I were going to pop in unexpected and surprise her family, who lived just north of Cincinnati. Several of the others considered coming along with us (especially Trish, of course). In the end, however, it was decided that Lindsay and I would go on this mini, five-day vacation by ourselves. I had family in the Cincinnati area, too. Everyone figured that a private get-away for two, with the added opportunity to re-connect with loved ones, would be an excellent way for Lindsay and I to celebrate our pregnant joy together.

On the television monitor, I watched Steph Curry of the Golden State Warriors sink yet another 3-point shot before turning my attention to the open washroom door to my right. The maddeningly catchy, eccentric hip-hop tone of Lily Allen - Lindsay's favorite musician (for the time being, at least) - was overlapping the sound of running shower water. The pop star was singing about the filth that took away my license.

I was a tad curious, I admit, but it did not really matter to me why Lindsay had chosen to take a shower at some 41,000 feet in the atmosphere. I checked to make sure the bedroom door was secure and locked, then quickly shed my clothing and tip-toed into the adjacent washroom with a purpose. I pulled the shower curtain open enough to deftly slip in behind Lindsay, who turned toward me in total surprise. "Whoa. WHOA! You're in the shower with me."

"Is that okay? I can leave."

Lindsay smiled and grabbed my arm. "Don't you dare."

"Bossy. But okay."

The hot water cascaded down Lindsay's shoulders as she looked up at me. "It's strange. I was just thinking about how awesome it would be if you popped in here unannounced, Jeremy, and joined me!" Her dreamy, bliss-blue eyes scanned my body in appreciation and her hands followed eagerly, gliding across my now-wet skin. "And now here you are," she beamed. "With me. Good afternoon, by the way. Or is it still morning in whichever time zone we are flying in at the moment?" Lindsay went up on her tiptoes for a steamy kiss. "I get so confused during these transoceanic flights!"

"Morning or afternoon, doesn't matter," I murmured upon her sweet mouth, passion overtaking my senses fast and hard. Our kiss intensified until it was a tangle of tongues that only served to arouse me even further. "Turn around."

Lindsay teased the outline of my jaw with a fingertip and gazed dreamily into my eyes for several, long seconds, but ultimately did as she was told. Very submissive, indeed.

Pooling my hands with the shower gel, its scented fragrance of citrus berries flooded my senses as I went about lathering up Lindsay's body, relishing the soapy slickness of her skin combined with the hot water. Soon, the steam in the washroom came from more than just the faucet. My touches turned more intimate and Lindsay's breathing became somewhat labored.

"You're good at this," Lindsay murmured, closing her eyes as I covered her breasts with soap, massaging and lathering generously, moving my thumbs over and across her tiny nipples.

I did not linger, though. I kept my hands moving, always in motion, never stopping in one place for too long. Once my hands eventually dipped between Lindsay's thighs, she quickly braced herself against my shoulders. But again I moved on. Teasing at its absolute finest!

"Oh, you're also a little cruel today, I see," Lindsay breathed, though still smiling in spite of the disappointment. "Hand me the soap now?" was her request.

"Oooooh boy," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I get to smell like fruity berries for the rest of the day!"

Lindsay reciprocated in kind and then some, moving her hands across every inch of my body, taking just as much as giving, until I was turned on and aching, yet needing more.

Lindsay glanced downward for a moment and gently wrapped her fingers around the width of my hard, throbbing cock. She offered a little squeeze and gazed back up at me, saying in a whisper, "God, I love your body, Jeremy."

"Yeah?" Not the most articulate response, but it was all I could really manage for the time being. My brain was otherwise scrambled, my senses engaged with this intoxicating woman who stood totally nude before me in the shower and the magic she worked with her hands.

The water was turning cold, prompting us to finish up and dry off, both of us still very aware of each other. "We have plenty of time left before we're anywhere close to Dayton," I pointed out, walking backward toward our skyborne suite.

"What if Carolyn or Barbara come into the bedroom to check and see if we need anything, only to find us having sex?" Lindsay fretted, referring to the two stewardesses.

"They won't," I promised her. "I told them we wanted total privacy today and would let them know if we need anything at all. I think those two have a pretty easy job today."

Lindsay motioned with her head toward the direction of the shower. "You and I should do that every morning. Totally."

Ten minutes later, with me inside her, Lindsay found my eyes with hers and held on tight as I coaxed and teased and drove her into blissful oblivion. I had eased her thighs apart and thrusted steadily against her, over and over again. Watching Lindsay try to control herself was a huge turn-on in and of itself. I proceeded to rock her hard and furiously beneath me. Our time in the shower had us both primed and ready, and the payoff was going to be monumental.

Lindsay grasped the headboard in preparation. With a quiet cry, the climax washed over my pregnant, 20-year-old bride in a gorgeous display. She actually shimmered, I realized, my heart clenching at the wondrous visual. I let my own rapture loose in the process, echoes and waves of blissful orgasm overcoming my soul and making my head spin.

I rolled onto the mattress next to Lindsay, amazed at what she and I could do together. Given, we took a shower and made love somewhere in the stratosphere, but that was one of the perks of owning your own aircraft, right?

I stared at Lindsay on the pillow next to me, feelings of love and admiration circulating all throughout my being. Lindsay was so many things to me - wife, angel, goddess, mother-to-be - wrapped up into one glorious, little package. "You're kind of amazing, you know that?"

Lindsay kissed my neck. "Amazing enough to stay here in bed for the rest of the day and night, even after our flight finally touches down in Ohio?"

"Tempting, hot stuff. But no dice. You're not dragging me 4,000 miles just so we can have sex and cuddle. You have your family to visit. I have mine. We see yours tonight."

Lindsay grinned lazily and pushed herself up onto her elbow. "Did you just call me hot stuff?"

I felt the blush hit my cheeks. It did sound sort of ridiculous now that I played it back within my mind. "Pshhhhh. No. I would have never done that."

"You did too! You called me hot stuff, and now that's going to be my name forever. Just wait until Krissy finds out. Hot stuff this, hot stuff that ... I will never hear the end of it. I kind of like it!"

"You're imagining things, and you're crazy."

"Maybe," Lindsay smirked. "But if this is crazy, I want to always be crazy."

I traced a finger along Lindsay's collarbone as the butterflies within my stomach fluttered furiously. "I feel a little crazy when I'm with you too, honey. I like it. I feel as if I'm always at home with you, and comfortable, and constantly turned on, and laughing all the time."

"Yeah?" Lindsay murmured, her eyes dancing. God, I loved it when those pretty blue eyes danced.

"Yeah. And I have to tell you, it's the best feeling in the world." I brushed a heavy clump of wet hair away from her forehead. "Being with you like this."

-------

I thought the absolute world of our personal flight crew and considered them friends much more than I did employees. After Lindsay got the idea that she wanted to tell her family about the baby face-to-face, I called Mike, the crew's pilot and captain, on Friday night and asked him if he could help us out on incredibly short notice again. He was out to dinner with his wife (Carolyn) and her sister (Barbara), both of whom served as his stewardesses. Mike said we could leave in the morning (Saturday) if that was what we wanted. It was neither a concern nor a hassle to him. We opted for Sunday.

Our entire family had such a positive experience with Mike, Carolyn, Barbara and co-pilot Craig during our two most recent trips (Norway to Canada to Peru, then back again) that Kristanna, Pamela and I took them out to lunch earlier in the week as a show of our appreciation.

I learned that Mike had been with Carolyn since their early days in college together. 27 years and three children later, it was very easy to see that the flame still burned incredibly bright between them. These two were madly in love and simply could not survive without each other. I wanted to use the relationship and the love Mike and Carolyn had built up throughout their years together as a blueprint which would help make my own marriage strong and ever-lasting.

Mike was a retired US Air Force pilot who proudly served his country during the Gulf War. He was born and raised in the United States, like the rest of his crew, but had been living just outside of Oslo for the past eight years. His military resume was another reason why I looked up to and respected Mike so much.

Want a little known fact that I don't share too often? After Victoria - my first fiancee - left me standing at the altar in 1993 when I was just 19, I tried to join the Army. Indeed, I had some patriotism in me as well. But I was turned away; my back was already messed up, and they deemed me physically unable to serve in the military. I was, in fact, born with a bad back (scoliosis). That is a major factor as to why I have so many problems with it nowadays.

Always the perceptive one, Kristanna had a slightly different view of Mike than I did. Kristanna, who never seemed to be wrong with her intuition, was convinced that Mike and Carolyn had some sort of romantic fling going on with Barbara. Yes, Barbara - Carolyn's very own sister. Kristanna was unsure whether or not Carolyn and Barbara did anything together in terms of sexual play, but she was utterly convinced that they shared Mike in bed. Equally.

Before the last leg of our trip last Sunday, the plane stopped in Iceland for its final refueling. We were late leaving, though, and all of us wondered why. Kristanna, of course, offered a theory. "Carolyn and Barbara are probably taking turns sucking Mike off in the cockpit right now!"

Whether or not that was true, I do not know. Nor was it any of my business. I led quite a unique lifestyle myself, so in no way was I going to judge the decisions that others made about their personal lives. I just knew that Mike was happy with Carolyn, and I wanted to follow his example as it pertained to my own marriage and the relationships within it.

The greatest advantage I had found in owning a private aircraft compared to commercial airline travel - even more than the sheer luxury of it being a flying hotel - was the convenience and efficiency it offered. For example, we did not have to fly out of a busy hub airport if we did not want to. If we so desired, we could depart or arrive at a smaller general aviation facility and avoid the traffic typically found at larger commercial airports.

But even leaving from a busy hub airport - such as Gardermoen in Oslo - private travelers depart from a small facility called a Fixed Base of Operation, or FBO. This effectively cuts out all of the chaos of a commercial terminal. Before 9-11, I am told, security was much more relaxed and private aircraft passengers could even drive their own cars onto the tarmac. Today, they must park in an adjoining lot and take provided shuttle to the aircraft. It is not a bad deal at all - parking lots for private flyers are generally free and secure 24/7. And, transport drivers are available to load passengers' bags onto the plane for them. Passengers are always with their belongings, so there is no reason to worry that luggage will be lost, damaged or sent to the wrong city by mistake.

Flying private also saves passengers the stress and frustration of going through those dreaded security lines. While the aircraft captain has the lawful right to search any passenger and his or her bags, there is no line, X-ray machine, removal of shoes, clothing, belt and jewelry. Captains generally greet their passengers at the FBO and ask to see identification before escorting them to the aircraft.

If travelers are late for any reason, the aircraft simply waits. It will never depart without you. There are no plane changes during the entire trip, so no reason to sprint across sprawling airports to catch connecting flights. And, once they are on the aircraft, passengers choose when to eat and drink whatever they have pre-ordered for their group.

Flying private is just that - private. The only people on board are those invited by the lead passenger. The group can work uninterrupted or hold meetings if they want to. A family could throw a massive birthday celebration. Almost all private aircraft come equipped with laptop connections and cabin telephones. Depending on the aircraft, travelers can listen to music, watch movies or satellite television. They can generally walk around and change seats on a literal whim. They can even take a shower together and make love afterward!

Before landing, aircraft personnel can call ground transportation so passengers do not have to wait. Such actions by the crew and the team on the ground take the hassle out of air travel. Private passengers arrive at their destination ready to work or play. They save time and get more done. They can even change flight times and destinations throughout the day as often as they want.

A perfect example of this was that a mere ten minutes after Lindsay and I stepped off of the aircraft, we were already in our rental car (which had been waiting for us at the FBO) and driving southbound on US Interstate 75 toward Cincinnati. The Dayton International Airport was actually located in a small town called Vandalia. From there to the home that Lindsay that grew up in, it was a 45 mile drive.

I knew the area quite well, of course, having grown up here with plenty of family still around. We arrived in [City Name] just after 4:00pm local time (10:00pm back in Norway, so I was already pretty tired). Lindsay knocked on the front door of her family home and was greeted by joyous, deafening screams from her younger sister, 18-year-old Alison, who was totally unprepared to see her. This caused their oldest sister, Jennifer (age 25) to come to the door to see what all the commotion was, only to have a similar reaction. Finally, mother Leslie came rushing to the door when Alison screamed toward her in the home that Lindsay was here.

I stood there and although I did not say a word, I had the biggest smile on my face as I watched Lindsay share an emphatic group hug with her mother, and two of her three sisters. Where was Gina? At work, perhaps? No matter, the women cried and squealed in utter joy. Lindsay had not seen any of them since her wedding with Trish back in December. This reunion had been much too long in the making.

One by one, I received a hug from them as well. First to greet me was Alison, forever a forbidden fruit in my eyes and someone that I had a secret crush on simply because she was a younger, miniature version of Lindsay. Nearly an exact carbon copy, if you will. Alison looked so much like her big sister, Lindsay, it was unreal.

But it would probably be best if I kept my lustful desires for Alison to myself, come to think of it. But every time I saw her, Alison got my juices flowing. Was it wrong that I had carnal thoughts of bending my wife's younger sister over the desk and pounding her from hehind like there was no tomorrow?

Leslie gave me a friendly hug as well, followed by the oldest sister and daughter, Jennifer. It seemed as if Gina was out on a date. Surprisingly enough, it was with another woman. Perhaps the relationship and marriage that Lindsay and I shared together helped open Gina's eyes, so to speak, and introduced her to a whole other world out there? She certainly did not have a girlfriend the last time I saw her.

There were many questions, and they came from all corners. What were we doing here? Where was Trish? Why wasn't she with us? How was she? What about the rest of the family? How was Norway? Was Lindsay still involved with the church?

Alison put a telephone call out to Gina and asked her to come home as soon as possible. When Gina arrived, the entire family was once again reunited, and all was well in the [Last Name] household. I listened to them talk and converse for a good three hours before I started to feel really tired. Lindsay reminded her family that it was nearly 2:00am back in Norway, then suggested that I lay down on the sofa and relax.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 17



Hmmmmm ... this horrible, old thing. That sofa! The same sofa I had slept on while spending a few evenings here in the past, most recently in 2014. The same sofa which literally broke my back! I really needed to buy them a new one...

I made the most of it, spread out and reclined back, listening to the women chatter about everything under the sun for a few more hours. Once Lindsay realized that I was not going to make it much longer - I was more ready for bed than ever before - she explained to her family that the real reason the two of us had shown up here unexpectedly was that next week, Leslie would celebrate her 48th birthday, and she had an early present for her.

I broke out my cell phone and began filming as Lindsay gave a rectangular package, covered in gift wrap, to her mother. Leslie took her time opening it and was delighted to find a copy of The Giving Tree, a classic children's book first published in 1964 and still quite popular today.

"I don't know how many times Mom sat up with me at night and read me The Giving Tree," Lindsay explained to her sisters (or perhaps she was reminding them). Lindsay turned toward her mother and said, "Mom, I wrote you a little note on the inside cover. Read it out loud so everyone can hear?"

Leslie was all smiles as she opened the front cover and read off, "Dear Mom - There is no other book that could better describe you. I could never put into words as well as The Giving Tree how loving, kind and generous you are. I know that I will be a great mom one day and that is solely because of you and the great example you set for me. This is my favorite book from when I was a little girl. I would love for you to read this to your forthcoming grandchild, whom I will deliver for you in February 2016. Happy birthd..."

Leslie jumped up from the recliner in mid-word and screamed out at the very top of her lungs. "MY BABY IS HAVING A BABY!" The three sisters converged on Lindsay all at once, swarming her and crying as well, offering words of congratulations.

Their happiness gave me a burst of energy which lasted for another two hours. Finally, I told Lindsay that we needed to get to our hotel in downtown Cincinnati or I was simply going to pass out from exhaustion. Lindsay actually drove the rental car herself and took care of checking in for us. When I toppled over and hit the mattress at 1:00am, I was out like a light. To my body, it was 7:00am (again, Norway time) and I had been awake, save for a short nap on the plane, for 26 hours. No doubt, I would get plenty of sleep tonight...

-------

Telling my own family of the good news, however, promised to be a slightly different experience.

Although it was not always this way, Leslie, Jennifer, Gina and Alison had fully accepted and embraced the lifestyle that Lindsay had chosen for herself. Her family, a devout religious group, still did not quite comprehend how Lindsay could have a husband and five wives (with a sixth on the way in Scarlett). But all of them were finally okay with the idea because they knew how incredibly happy Lindsay was. It was plain for them to see. She was a bundle of pure joy and everyone in our little circle loved her. We all cared for Lindsay and would protect her at all costs. To her family, as long as Lindsay was safe and happy, they were happy.

On the other hand, I had not been on speaking terms with my own sister, Di, since telling her that I had six wives of my own. My sister simply did not agree with the idea at all. In fact, the last time I saw her, Di told me that I flat-out disgusted her, and that I was to leave immediately. I was incredibly hurt, and had not tried contacting her since.

My oldest brother, Dan, took more of a neutral stance on the subject. He told me in the past that as long as I was happy, he was fine with the lifestyle I led. But that certainly did not mean that he was happy about it himself, or that he actually approved of it.

Finally, my mother. Mom was 74 years of age now and was about as old-fashioned as any one person could possibly be. To her, a marriage was supposed to strictly be between a man and a woman, with no one else involved (or certainly included as a part of it). I held off on telling her, my brother and sister for the longest time that there were more women in my life than just Kristanna (actually, many more), but actually came forth last December and admitted to my mother - on the very same day Trish and Lindsay got married, no less - the whole, explicit truth.

I had all of these different women in my life, I told Mom. I was married to three at the time (Kristanna, Pamela and Amy), just days from marrying a fourth (Lindsay) and a few months from tying the knot with two more (Devon and Trish). Oh, there was Scarlett, too. Scarlett was still relatively new to our relationship, but I was fairly certain that I would marry her one day in the future as well.

I also had to explain to Mom that in addition to Kaden, her grandson, she also had a granddaughter (Piper) that I had never mentioned until now. Pamela was her mother, I said, and I was too afraid to tell her ... until now.

Back in December, Mom took that news a lot better than I ever possibly dreamed she would. Much like my brother, Mom ultimately said that if I was happy, she was fine. She certainly did not condone the life choices I had made, but was okay with them for the most part. I had to promise her that I would no longer keep any secrets like this from her.

Mom even convinced me to bring her to Trish and Lindsay's wedding, which was taking place later that evening at a local church in the Cincinnati area. Mom wanted to meet everyone, especially "the mother of my baby granddaughter that I did not even know existed until about an hour ago." It sure was a unique experience watching my mother have private, one-on-one discussions during the reception party with every single woman in my life. I never did ask any of them what was discussed...

Back in the present day, I woke up at 11:00am on Monday morning, my body and its internal clock simply shot to Hell because of that long airline flight from yesterday. Still, I called both my mother and Dan, and told them that I was in town for a couple of days. I asked them if they would be interested in meeting up with me for lunch at Rock Bottom, one of downtown Cincinnati's most popular restaurants, located directly in Fountain Square.

"Did you bring any of your lady friends with you?"

"Just one, Mom. Lindsay."

"Oh. Lindsay? Not Kristanna? Lindsay is the one who got married in the lesbian wedding last Christmas?"

"Yes, Mom. But it wasn't a lesbian wedding."

"Of course not. I remember the wedding was ... nice."

I loved my mother like any good son. She had brought me into this world and helped raise me. But I had to put up with conversations like this whenever I spoke to her nowadays. She was as old as the old school got; set in her ways and beliefs, and not about to back down from them. Still, at the same time, she was my mother. And I knew she loved me, too.

Mom and Dan both agreed to meet up with me at 2:00pm for lunch at Rock Bottom. I had no intentions of seeing or talking to my sister on this trip. Maybe in the future.

I had a second brother (Steve) who lived somewhere deep within the backwater hills of Kentucky. With a very long criminal history, Steve was the definite black sheep of the family and did not even have a telephone. Trying to track him down in the past had always proven to be a massive chore. At least for this trip, I was not even going to try.

My father, on the other hand, lived in California with his girlfriend. He and I were on excellent terms. He knew all about my life and had been to Norway to visit us in March.

Perhaps I was blind as a bat (or just dumb), but I did not realize just how insecure Lindsay was, and the uneasiness she felt, in regards to having lunch with my mother and brother until she emerged from the hotel washroom one hour before our meeting was set to commence. Lindsay was dressed as if she was going for a job interview at an accounting firm, and that the success of her entire career hinged on it!

She wore a white blazer suit jacket that was buttoned all the way to the top and a pair of long black dress pants with modest two-inch heels. With her lush, sunrise-gold hair woven into a tight, complicated braid, Lindsay even had a black scarf wrapped around her neck. Good Lord, it was 85 degrees outside! What in the world was she thinking?

I was able to get Lindsay to ditch the scarf, but she absolutely refused to change anything else about her attire. Lindsay wanted to look prim and proper for my family. She had only met my mother once - at her wedding and its ensuing reception with Trish - while this would be her first time ever speaking to Dan. They had yet to meet. Lindsay was also well aware of the opinion that Di had about her and the others.

Gone was the ultra-outgoing and gregarious Lindsay who I had become so accustomed to in recent times; temporarily replaced by the timid and shy Lindsay that I met two years ago when she first stepped foot on my island. I was stunned at the sudden transformation. She was so incredibly nervous!

Things got off to a good start, at least. We arrived at the restaurant at 1:40pm. Mom and Dan showed up shortly thereafter. Lindsay was humble and demure in greeting and acknowledging them, but otherwise stayed mostly quiet for the first 30 minutes of our meal. She opened up and talked a little with Dan when he mentioned [City Name] in passing, telling him it was where she grew up and where her family still lived today. They shared a few good stories about it.

And at one point, my mother wanted to know why was Lindsay "dressed up like a librarian". I kind of hung my head low...

The conversation took a drastic turn once I informed them that Lindsay was pregnant. There were congratulations at first, but then Dan began to speak of the two young infants I already had back in Norway (Kaden and Piper). He also brought up the fact that Amy's child (Dani Grace) was on her way, and would be born soon. An unexpected bombshell was dropped when I told them that four days prior to learning that Lindsay was pregnant, Trish had informed me that she was expecting, too.

"Two babies and three pregnant women, all in less than a 12 month time span, meaning five women total," was one of the many things Dan said to me, suddenly upset. "Is this a big joke to you, Jeremy? Is parenthood and getting all these women pregnant some sort of sick, twisted conquest for you?"

"HEY!" Lindsay shot back at him, breaking free of her shell with the force of a thousand librarians, her voice shrill. "Just who do you think you are saying that to him?"

Dan became even more upset and, to avoid a scene in the restaurant that could get messy in a hurry, he got up from the table and said he was leaving. He drove Mom down here. I offered to take her home myself if she wanted to stay, but Mom said it was probably best that she go with Dan instead. And, they both left together. In a flash.

Upset herself, Lindsay tossed her dinner napkin down and hurried off toward the ladies' room in a crying fit. I was left by my lonesome at the table in the restaurant, several strange eyes fixated on me with hushed words being exchanged. Customers and employees alike, everyone was staring at me. It was one of those moments where you feel two feet tall...

When Lindsay emerged from the ladies' room ten minutes later much more composed, I gave the waitress five $100 bills and told her to keep the change. I did not care what the price for our meal was, nor did I have to see it. I took Lindsay's hand and quickly guided her out of the restaurant, then two blocks over to where our rental was in a car garage.

"YOUR BROTHER THINKS I'M A SLUT!" Lindsay screeched out once we were inside the vehicle, bouncing and thrashing her limbs about wildly. "HE HATES US ALL!"

It took some effort on my part, but I was finally able to calm Lindsay down. Her mascara was ruined and the beautiful braid she spent so much time on earlier had come loose, and was now a jumbled mess. "Our baby may only be the size of a sesame seed inside you right now," I told Lindsay, "but I don't want you to be all upset and angry, and put our little child at risk." I cupped her chin with my palm and stroked her cheek with a thumb. "Settle down, princess."

I went onto explain to Lindsay that our family - our marriage and its overall structure - was very unique. It was very different; not normal, and there were very few people in the world who could properly comprehend or understand it. How many men out there have six wives who are all also married to each other at the same time? I had a fiancee, too! "Baby, we are always going to leave ourselves open to criticism and ridicule from others - even from our own family members. It is something we will deal with for the rest of our lives."

I told Lindsay that Dan's opinion simply did not matter to me. I was not going to become upset or get all heartbroken over it. I knew that I was happy in life. I was a good man, an even better husband and father. I loved all seven of these women, as well as my two children, more than life itself. I treated all of them with the utmost amount of dignity and respect. I surely never looked at any of them as a conquest, or each pregnancy as some sort of notch on my bedpost.

"This is why I rarely associate with anyone outside of our little circle," I continued telling her. "There is no need to let anyone else in. I don't even have any friends back in Norway. My two best friends, if you want to call them that, are Krissy's parents, Kristof and Rande. They allowed us to build a home on their property and take over their family business. But most of all, they welcomed us - and the unique lifestyle decisions we have made - with open arms from the very beginning. That's rare, honey. Very, very rare."

"When I confine myself to our family, I am so happy," I stressed. "Everyone else is so happy. That is all I really need. I love to watch Krissy and Pamela interact with each other; Krissy always teasing and ripping on her, and Pamela forever thinking of a way to get her back. I love the way Amy has changed in the past two years ... the woman she has become. Amy is an angel now, Lindsay. A pure angel. And I also love seeing you and Trish together. I love watching Trish's eyes whenever you walk into a room where she is. They always light up like a Christmas tree. Trish loves you so much, honey, and I know that you love her too."

"Devon is sort of the quiet guardian for our family," Lindsay murmured, continuing my thought for me. "She stays in the background a lot, but Devon would have blown up at your brother and let him have it if she heard what he said to you earlier. Devon also loves Kristanna the same way Trish and I love each other. It has been neat to watch Scarlett work herself into our lives and its routine over the past year. Fascinating, really."

"And I love Kaden and Piper!" Lindsay chirped, suddenly smiling again. The babies always made her smile. "I love both of them so much! Oh my God ... I miss seeing them now."

"Let Dan go back to Di and tell her that I got five women pregnant and that all of you are nothing but a conquest to me," I grumbled. "Let him tell her that, give her more fuel for the fire to hate and despise me, say I am even more disgusting. Let them think that parenthood is a joke to me. I don't care. As long as I have you and the other girls in my life, Lindsay, I don't care. If it's negative, I don't care about anything or what anyone else thinks about me. All that matters is that I am happy, you are happy, and everyone else is happy. If others cannot understand or appreciate that, I don't care what they think."

"But he's your brother!" Lindsay whined.

"I. Don't. Care." I shook my head at her. "If Dan wants to be mean and hurtful, and make comments about something he knows nothing about, I don't care. All I need is our family. I don't need any friends and I don't need any family members who are going to hate on me - on us - like that."

Lindsay tilted her head at me. "Aren't you friends with Captain Mike? I thought you said you liked him."

"Yes, Captain Mike is becoming a good friend," I nodded, referring to the pilot for our private aircraft. "Mike and the rest of his crew have been incredibly good to us. He and his wife, her sister, and their co-pilot friend all seem accepting of us and our relationship, our marriage. I can also tell they are not just putting on an agreeable face for us simply because we are their employers. It's genuine."

"That's because Mike has his own unique thing going on with Carolyn and Barbara!" Lindsay giggled. "Two sisters sharing one husband together! Kind of like your ultimate fantasy ... isn't it, Jeremy? Me and you, and ... Alison?"

-------

After our little heart-to-heart discussion in the parking garage ended, I decided to take Lindsay back to the hotel - the Residence Inn over on 4th Street - so she could get a change of clothes and fix both her hair and her mascara. I told her to dress appropriately - we were going on a hike.

It was just 12 days ago, while still vacationing on the island off the coast of Peru, when I went out for a moonlit stroll on the beach with Lindsay. She spoke at length that particular evening about her father, who unexpectedly passed away in November 2012 at the age of 46 due to heart failure. Lindsay shared stories about her childhood and the things that she used to do with her father while he was still alive.

One of her favorite memories of all, I learned, was going to Miami Whitewater Forest - a sprawling, beautiful state park just north of Cincinnati - when she was a little girl and picking blackberries there with her dad. Lindsay spoke of a specific, very remote hill at the park, its entrance roped off and covered by long weeds, which was once her father's favorite location to pick blackberries some 15 years ago.

As she got older, Lindsay explained to me on the beach that evening, she and her father no longer picked blackberries there, but they would often hike up to the top of the hill on a near weekly basis when the weather was nice. They never saw anyone else there, so the spot naturally became their hill. It was very special to both of them; their own, little father-and-daughter ritual that others would not understand.

After his passing, Lindsay said that every time she was in the area, she would go to the park and hike up the hill as a private tribute to her father. Trish came here with Lindsay once when we were visiting in 2013, but every other time, she had hiked the trail alone. Lindsay even told me that she had often spoke to her father candidly while ascending this hill; communing with his spirit gave her great peace and solace.

Being the thoughtful and attentive husband that I was - and knowing how she regarded her father's memory with such sheer reverence - I told Lindsay that night on the beach that the next time she and I were in Ohio, I wanted to hike up that hill with her. I also asked if she would take me to his grave site. I wanted her to properly introduce us. I had heard so many wonderful things about her dad - Donald was his name - over the past two years. Although belated, I wanted to ask for his approval; I wanted her hand in marriage.

The trip to the cemetery would happen tomorrow.

Lindsay re-did her intricate braid and applied a fresh coat of mascara, then slipped into a pair of black spandex pants and a green, loose-fitting tank-top, with a black sports bra clearly visible underneath. Sneakers and socks completed the ensemble. Lindsay looked as if she was going to the gym!

Just think of the most beautiful park you can possibly imagine in a remote, small-town America setting, and you have Miami Whitewater Forest. It was everything you could want in a park and then some. A peaceful retreat. Ponds, several picnic areas, bird watching galore, fishing, camping, fitness trails and bicycling, even a massive golf course ... Miami Whitewater Forest literally had everything.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 17



The park, located in the tiny village of New Haven, was a mere 20 minute drive from the downtown hotel. Getting out of the car and looking around, I was vividly reminded of my own childhood. I too, spent many weekend days here in the past with my mother and father, my sister and two brothers.

It had been nearly 30 years since I was here, yet it seemed as if nothing had changed. The big lake was still here, with fishermen dotting its edges. Several boats, including paddles and pontoons, and even kayaks, were in the water. Oh ... over there, the marina and the gift shop. Behind the gift shop, I clearly remembered, was a concession stand and picnic area. I went and snuck a peek. Yup, still there. Families and little kids everywhere, dogs on leashes ... everyone happy. A pair of women passed by us on horseback.

I began to get emotional myself as thoughts of my very own childhood - memories of being here with my family when I was a little boy - nearly overtook me. Dad and Steve bicycling as I tried to keep up with them. Di giving me pieces of bread so I could feed the ducks. Dan tossing a football back and forth with me. Oh, how I looked up to him back in those days. And Mom ... getting the picnic ready so we could have our lunch.

I shook my head and tried to snap out of it, fearful that I may break down and start crying right in front of Lindsay. She knew nothing of my inner struggle at the moment. Lindsay had a bright, beaming smile, and extended me her hand. When I took it, she said, "Let's go find that hill, shall we?"

Well, it sure was located in a remote area. We walked about a half-mile away from the main concourse along the busy road, then Lindsay took me over into a heavily forested area. She said two massive trees, nearly side by side, were the landmark for the trail that led up the hill. I spotted it.

"Daddy, I'm here!" Lindsay called out at the top of her lungs as she and I ascended the long and winding gravel road. "And look who I brought with me. Jeremy is here! I am going to bring him to your grave site tomorrow so you two can be properly introduced." I watched, fascinated, as we walked along, the look on Lindsay's face indicating that she was listening closely. "You're right, Daddy! Yes, you are so right! I'M PREGNANT! Trish is pregnant, too. No, Trish is back home in Norway. She's not with us. What?" Lindsay suddenly went quiet as a mouse. "WHAT?" she then screamed.

"What is it?" I asked, concerned.

Suddenly, Lindsay was crying. "My dad says that I am going to have a baby girl, and Trish a baby boy! He says he already knows because he's in Heaven and God told him!" Lindsay vehemently shook her head and sniffed her nose. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jeremy. You probably think I'm crazy..."

"Not at all," I grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulder for emphasis. "I don't think that at all." I kissed her on the forehead. "Do you really hear him?"

She nodded, wiping away her excess tears. "I hear his voice in my head whenever I am on this hill, or whenever I am at the cemetery visiting him. I don't know what it is ... but I hear him talking to me. I swear to you, Jeremy, I do. Those are the only two places where I hear him ... I SWEAR. I know it sounds crazy, but I know it's him..."

"This hill belongs to you and your dad," I reminded her. "Of course he wants to talk to you while you are here." Lindsay shed more tears in response as I added, "Wow. Parents typically have to wait until the fourth or fifth month until they learn the gender of their baby, if they want to learn it at all." I smiled leisurely at her. "You and I found out just four weeks into your pregnancy." Lindsay shrieked as I ended, "We need to come up with a name for our daughter."

"Kaylee!" Lindsay told me, sobbing. "Kaylee ... Janae. I told my dad when I was eight ... I was gonna have a daughter one day, and her name ... her name would be ... Kaylee Janae."

I tilted my head and placed my hand upon Lindsay's stomach, my eyes fixated upon it. "Hey there, you sweet, little sesame seed. You got a name now! Kaylee Janae..."

"Oh God, Jeremy!" Lindsay sobbed, stopping and tossing her arms around me in a wild embrace. "OH GOD, I LOVE YOU!"

Lindsay and I stayed at the park until 8:00pm that evening. We rented a pontoon boat and puttered around the lake in it for two hours. We had dinner courtesy of the concession stand and I bought nearly anything in the gift shop that piqued my interest at all (over $630), figuring any profit made would go to the upkeep of the park and its grounds. Lindsay and I even had a loaf of bread and fed bits and pieces of it to the ducks, before passing it off to two excitable little toddlers and their grateful parents. Those kids did a much better job feeding the ducks than Lindsay or I ever could.

And yes, the hill. The hill that belonged to Lindsay and her dad. Once reaching its summit, Lindsay and I sat down in a shaded area next to the water tower she also told me about on the beach 12 days ago. I held and cuddled with Lindsay as we shared quiet, small talk. Every now and then, it seemed, Lindsay's dad had something to say. She always answered him. I could not stop kissing her, cherishing her ... loving her.

What started out as a not-so-good day at the restaurant with my mother and brother had since blossomed into a collection of tender, heartwarming memories with my wife that I would never forget. This old park seemed to have that sort of effect on me. Not only today, but 30 years ago as well. Indeed, some things really never do change.

Oh ... Lindsay and I also picked blackberries. Lots and lots of blackberries. When we got back to the hotel later, I was going to bake her a blackberry pie.

-------

To Be Continued...

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Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 18



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Chapter 18: Home

-- Tuesday, June 16, 2015 --

-- Hamilton, Ohio --

The headstone was engraved with simple, block letters - Donald F. [Last Name], December 13, 1965 - November 4, 2012. Beneath it, the epitaph simply read, "His life a beautiful memory, his absence a silent grief."

I placed a reassuring hand upon Lindsay's shoulder as she knelt at the final resting place of her father. I tenderly caressed Lindsay's neck as she sprayed the modest marker with a cleaning solution and then used a towel to wipe it dry.

"Dad's grave is always covered with dirt and mowed grass every time I visit here," my wife complained. "I really wish they did a better job of upkeep around this cemetery."

I motioned toward the wooden bird house dangling from a shepherd's hook no more than five feet from the marker. "You want me to fill it, honey?" I asked, cradling a bag of bird seed on my right arm. "Or do you want to do it yourself?"

"You can," Lindsay answered, glancing up and over her shoulder at me for a brief moment, before returning to her cleaning duties. I proceeded to carefully pour seed, trying not to spill any, into the bird house until it was full.

Ever since arriving in Cincinnati on Sunday afternoon for our little, private vacation for two, I felt closer and more emotionally intimate with Lindsay than I ever had before. The fact that Lindsay was newly pregnant was certainly a major contributing factor, but getting to spend these few days alone with her were wonderful and fabulous for me. All of my time and energy had been exclusively devoted to her.

I loved having the opportunity to watch Lindsay interact with her family here in Ohio, whom she missed dearly, yet rarely got to see because we made our home in Norway. Our trip to the park yesterday was very special and memorable for me, too. I was so accustomed to being with Lindsay with the other ladies in our lives around as well. This was certainly a very different side of Lindsay - and in an equally different environment - than what I was used to. I actually wished our one-on-one vacation lasted longer...

After having breakfast at the downtown hotel this morning, I drove Lindsay to the cemetery and told her that we would stay here to visit with her father for as long as she wanted. I felt extreme sympathy for her as she knelt and dusted off the tombstone. Both of my parents were still alive (thank God), so I would not even begin to think that I knew how Lindsay felt at the current moment. She loved her father; he was her hero, her idol, and his memory was sacred to her. It still tore her apart inside that he was no longer alive.

Lindsay did not say anything or show much emotion over the following ten minutes once she got comfortable and settled into a seated position. I opted to allow her some privacy, venturing off on my own and exploring various other parts of the cemetery. Spiked, black fences surrounded the graveyard almost as if it was a ghostly prison. The smell of old stone filled the dry air, weeds covering the graves of the dead.

On the far side there were several tombstones, some toppled, some crumbling from age. There were people buried here - families - dating back as far as 200 years. It was disheartening to see memorials for several 1800's era children who did not make it past their first or second birthday. It made me appreciate modern day medicine and science even more. Just the thought of losing Kaden or Piper - either of my children back home in Norway - at such an early age made my stomach painfully churn. I would not be able to handle it.

I glanced back toward Lindsay and sighed in exasperation. It may have been a hot and humid day at 85 degrees, but Lindsay still wore a knitted blue scarf - which belonged to her father - loosely around her neck. Lindsay truly believed that the restless spirits here would leave her alone as long as she had one of her father's favorite possessions with her. She even claimed it would ward them off. The scarf rippled and billowed in the light breeze as I watched her lips move. She was openly talking to her father.

No harm could come ever come to Donald again. The life that dwelled within him was gone and he was safe from the perils of the world. A heart that used to beat with love was now still, yet his memory would never be forgotten.

"You okay, honey?" I asked Lindsay once I returned to her side, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her forehead.

"He likes you," Lindsay simply said, smiling somewhat. "Daddy likes you, Jeremy. He told me so."

Smiling myself, I dropped down to one knee beside Lindsay. "Tell your father I appreciate that, honey." I kissed her on the forehead again. "Do you think maybe your dad would like to talk to me? I want to tell him how much I love you, how special you are to me. And I would like his approval for our life and marriage. Do you think I could maybe meet him?"

Lindsay turned and glanced at the quiet earth beneath us for a few seconds, then focused upon me with a full, happy expression. "Daddy says he would be honored to meet you!"

When we left the cemetery a good four hours later, Donald's tombstone and its surrounding area popped with vibrant colors thanks to Lindsay's special touch. She decorated it with a wide assortment of bouquets and flower arrangements, put up a pair of sun-catchers, wind chimes and a beautiful wreath. She also left a memorial rock at the base of his marker, with an engraved inscription.

"If tears could build a stairway, and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to Heaven and bring you home again."

This was the first time that Lindsay had visited her father since just before her wedding with Trish this past December. He was forever a delicate subject with her, so it should not come as any great surprise that Lindsay was a bit emotional once we left the cemetery. She promised her father that she would be back to visit him again sometime soon.

But best of all, I got that stamp of approval from him. According to Lindsay, her father gave us his total blessing.

I promise to love and take care of your amazing daughter, Donald, for as long as I shall live ... and then beyond. And with all of the many, wonderful things I have heard about you over the past two years (and everything I will hear in the future), I look forward to shaking your hand one day.

-------

Lindsay and I returned to our hotel room after visiting the cemetery and took a much-needed shower, then ventured back out and drove up to her family home in [City Name]. Lindsay's mother (Leslie) and her three sisters were waiting for us. After two hours of spirited and fun conversation, I offered to treat everyone to an early dinner at a restaurant of their choosing. Ahhhhh, they were indeed women after my very own heart - they opted for Red Lobster. Fresh seafood was my absolute favorite. It was healthy, and delicious!

In the morning - on Wednesday - Lindsay and I debated what our itinerary should be for the day. Tomorrow morning, we would board our family jetliner at the Dayton International Airport and fly back home to Norway. We wanted to go out and spend our last day here together, and have a good time.

Not only did we experience a great deal of fun, but I got the added bonus of continually gawking at Lindsay in a little, two-piece bikini swimsuit for the great bulk of the afternoon. She and I went to The Beach Waterpark, which was located in Mason, Ohio, for swimming and sun. Wave pools, slides, a lazy river, zip lines ... this waterpark had it all. The staff was friendly and attentive, and the food was decent.

It was a family friendly atmosphere, yet the beautiful and vivacious Lindsay gathered a lot of attention as she paraded about and flaunted her immaculate figure in an American flag inspired swimsuit. Red, white and blue fabric featured the stars and stripes in a bikini top with white string lines. The side-tied, matching thong bikini bottom definitely made her stand out from all of the other women at the park. I even caught several guys eyeing her on multiple occasions. Who could resist the sight of Lindsay in a little bikini? She was gorgeous, and not afraid to let others know it.

I was content to relax and spend the evening at our hotel, but Lindsay knew how much I enjoyed professional sports, and the local baseball team, the Reds, were in town playing host to the Detroit Tigers. Lindsay suggested that we buy tickets and walk down to Great American Ballpark to catch the game.

I had never actually been to this stadium, which opened in 2003, before. All of my memories of the Reds and baseball in Cincinnati were from old, dilapidated Riverfront Stadium, which was demolished a decade ago and no longer existed. I used to go there several times a year when I was a kid and cheer on childhood heroes such as Eric Davis and Barry Larkin.

The new ballpark, though, was definitely an experience that I will never forget. Lindsay and I were able to get tickets directly behind home plate; we could even see ourselves on the big, video scoreboard at several points throughout the night. The fire from the riverboat smoke stacks with every strikeout and the fireworks after every home run was a spectacle in and of itself. The food was good too; I came close to gorging (Lindsay's term) on hot dogs and chili fries, but enjoyed a barbequed pork sandwich from Mr. Reds Smokehouse more than anything else.

The game went into extra innings, but ended on the highest of notes at 1:20am local time as Todd Frazier of the Reds hit a grand slam home run in the bottom of the 13th to send his team to an 8-4 victory. Lindsay, who was dressed up in full baseball garb yet knew barely anything about the sport, let alone the players involved, said that she had a wonderful time and we would definitely have to come back here to watch another game during a future visit to Cincinnati. Trish was an avid sports fan, Lindsay reminded me, and she would absolutely love it here.

By the time it was 7:00am, Lindsay and I had already checked out of our hotel and were actually having breakfast with her mother and three sisters at their family home. It was a sad, tearful goodbye, yet all of the ladies reiterated how happy they were for us as a married couple that Lindsay was finally pregnant and was well on her way to motherhood. Considering the quiet lust for Alison that was raging inside of me (and getting stronger), it was good to get away from her.

At 10:00am, our plane took off from the airport in Dayton. Eight hours from now - which would be midnight in Norway - we would touch down in Oslo. This time, I came prepared. I had been up the whole night and, after the exhausting events of yesterday (first the visit to the waterpark, then the baseball game afterward) I had plans of sleeping for most, if not all, of the flight. I even took a sleeping pill and went straight to the master bedroom in our flying hotel of an aircraft. Flying and I rarely seemed to agree with each other, so this was my way of trying to eliminate the hassle of it altogether.

Oddly enough, my plan worked to near perfection.

-------

Our family jetliner touched down at Gardermoen Airport in Oslo, Norway at 12:33am Friday morning. Lindsay and I left our private flight crew to deal with the plane, and we were on the road and driving back to our home in Sandvika by 12:45am.

Although I enjoyed the little excursion with Lindsay to the United States and at times wished it lasted longer, I was given a vivid reminder of what I had here in Norway once we stepped out of the vehicle in front of our family's estate. Lindsay and I were literally met with a welcome wagon. Even at such a late hour, Kristanna came rushing over and hugged me fiercely at the earliest opportunity. Pamela soon joined her, making it a triple hug, and both ladies were emotional as they spoke about how much they had missed me this week, and how happy they were that I was home. Meanwhile, Lindsay was getting bombarded with hugs and kisses from Trish.

Things became even better once Devon and Scarlett entered the picture, carrying Kaden and Piper, respectively, in their attentive arms. It was definitely well past the bed-time of my 11-month-old and 7-month-old pair of children, yet that did not deter me from showering them with kisses and affection as well. They were tired and fussy, and obviously not in the best of moods, but I was overjoyed to see them regardless.

Kristanna and Pamela continued to hug and love on me even as I took Kaden and Piper into each arm and cradled them to my shoulders. When they finally relented, Kristanna and Pamela turned their attention toward Lindsay. At the same time, I had a nice, little reunion with Trish, followed by Devon and Scarlett. Indeed, I led quite the charmed life. But someone very important, I quickly noticed, was missing...

"Where is Amy?"

"Sleeping," Kristanna told me in response. "She has not been feeling well the past couple of days."

"Is she okay?" I asked, concerned.

"Amy is deep into her pregnancy," Pamela reminded me. "It is normal for her to have stretches where she feels tired and sluggish, like now." Pamela smiled sweetly and added, "Plus, I think Amy has really missed you this week, Jeremy. She is not quite the same without you around."

"None of us are," Kristanna pouted.

"We didn't want to wake her up," Trish chimed in. "All of us figured that she could see you in the morning."

"Well, I am going to wake Amy up," I announced to the group. "Because I want to see her."

Moments later, I was alone as I stepped into the sprawling, luxurious bedroom that I shared with my six wives and one fiancee. Upon the mattress was the magnificent and alluring Amy, who quietly slept away in a black modal maternity robe. I could not help but to smile; Amy's baby bump seemed even more pronounced than it was when I last saw her five days ago.

I knelt down next to Amy and grasped her left hand with my right. It seemed a bit swollen, but that was normal for a woman well more than seven months into her pregnancy. "Amy?" I whispered, gently kissing her cheek. "Baby, you awake?"

My 32-year-old bride stirred for a brief instant, then her eyelids fluttered open and she gazed at me. "Jeremy..." Amy sighed, her lips forming a tender smile. "You're home."

I squeezed her hand a bit tighter and used my opposite to rub and caress her bulging belly. "How are you doing?"

"Better now." Amy glanced around for a moment, but then re-focused upon me. "Where is Lindsay?"

"She'll be along shortly," I promised. "Hey ... I heard you haven't been feeling good the past few days. What's up?"

Amy glanced toward her baby bump and breathlessly giggled. "I'm getting fatter?" She shook her head and added, "Just feel worn down, exhausted. Scarlett says it is normal." She smiled at me again. "Did you and Lindsay have a good flight back from America? How's my old home, Ohio?"

"I slept for seven of the eight hours during the flight," I countered. "And Ohio doesn't change." I leaned down and kissed her on the lips. "I missed you, Amy."

"I missed you too, Jeremy," she whispered. "All of us missed you and Lindsay so much. We haven't been apart for an extended amount of time like that since we first got together." Amy frowned at me. "I don't like being away from you."

"I'm home now."

"Yes, you are."

I again squeezed her hand, then kissed her forehead. "You are so beautiful to me right now."

Amy tried to sit up, but winced instead and quickly gave up on the idea. "I definitely don't feel beautiful."

"Why don't I take you to the doctor in the morning?" Amy shook her head at me as I insisted, "Come on ... the doctor can check you out and see if something is wrong with you. You could have a virus, or something."

"I'm fine, Jeremy," Amy squeaked. "I feel happy, I feel cranky, clumsy, emotional, irritable, excited, nauseous, moody, sore, stuffy, thirsty ... I'm a pregnant woman."

"But can you bend over and touch your toes?"

"No!" she replied emphatically to my silly question. It was a horrible attempt at humor on my part.

"I want you to go to the doctor in the morning," I told her, literally putting my foot down. Amy would never refuse me when I used this particular tone of voice on her. It was the submissive streak in her. "It is for your own good."

"Okay," she relented. "I'll go."

I nestled up close to Amy upon the bed and settled down beside her. "How's my little girl doing in there?" I asked, again massaging her baby bump. "Been kickin' this week?"

"Oh yes," Amy huffed in response. "Lots."

I nuzzled my face upon her neck and held it there, taking in the wondrous, fresh scent of Amy's strawberry perfume. Remembering past pregnancies with Kristanna and Pamela, I knew that I would be devoting a lot of time and effort to Amy - much more than any of the other women in our lives - during the next several weeks until our daughter was born. As her husband and Dani Grace's father-to-be, it would be my duty to soothe and coddle Amy through the tough times ahead. I was going to do everything within my power to make certain that she would feel comfortable, and perfectly at ease, both before and after our little angel was born.

"AMY!" Lindsay exclaimed as she entered the bedroom, hopping up-and-down like a bunny rabbit on steroids, as Trish followed behind her. "Amy!" Lindsay darted over toward us and climbed over top of me, resting her stomach on my side, and shared a spirited, emotional embrace with Amy.

"Hi baby!" Amy greeted her in return, laughing gently, as they kissed. "Oh ... it's so good to see you!"

"Hmmmmm, I've missed you!" Lindsay growled, giggling. The two ladies kissed yet again as Trish sat down beside me and clutched my shoulder in a display of affection.

"You okay?" I asked Trish, reaching out and touching her stomach. Of course, Trish, along with Lindsay and Amy, was pregnant. All three of them were carrying a child of mine, although Trish was only six weeks along, and Lindsay five. Neither of them were anywhere close to showing yet.

"I'm fine," Trish assured me. "Perfectly fine."

"Where are the others?"

"Krissy and Pamela are putting Kaden and Piper down in their cribs as we speak," she mused. "Devon and Scarlett stopped for a quick snack in the kitchen." Trish smiled at me. "I cannot believe you went to a baseball game. Do you know how jealous that makes me? I used to go and see the Blue Jays eight, ten times a year when I lived in Toronto."

"We will definitely put that on the agenda the next time we are visiting your family in Toronto," I promised her.

Trish giggled and poked at Lindsay's shoulder. "Do you even know a single thing about baseball at all?"

Lindsay shrugged her shoulders and offered a red-faced expression to her wife. "Pitch the ball ... hit the ball?"

"I didn't think so," Trish chortled.

I quickly got the sense that Lindsay wanted to hug and kiss on Amy all night long. Normally I would have no objections to that, of course, but Amy was not feeling up to par and I felt as if she needed her rest.

"Let's allow Amy to go back to sleep," I told Lindsay, breaking up their love-fest. "She is feeling a bit ill."

"Awwwww," Lindsay whined in sympathy.

"No, I'm not!" Amy fired back at me. Hmmmmm ... that was a pregnant mood swing if I ever saw one. Amy did not seem to enjoy it that I had essentially instructed Lindsay to back off. She even raised her voice at me, and became snippy.

"Go to sleep," I told Amy, my voice firm and authoritative. Lindsay knew what that tone meant. She went docile and silent just like Amy did, each of them falling into their submissive shell. "You and I are going to the doctor in the morning."

Amy meekly nodded her head at me, then turned her face to the side and closed her eyes. Still, she and Lindsay shared a few quick-hitting kisses before they both fell asleep.




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 18



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"Okay, what were the categories again?" I asked Pamela, who was reclining on the sofa beside me, her legs draped over and across my lap. Dressed in a pair of faded denim jeans and a snug-fitting tank-top, but having foregone the use of any shoes or socks, I used this golden opportunity to lovingly knead and massage Pamela's pretty, bare feet.

"There are four categories," Pamela reminded me. "Smart, sexy, funny and cute. But you can only be two things. Like Kristanna would be funny and sexy. Scarlett would be smart and sexy. You get it? Only two things. So, what am I?"

"Wait," I said. "What am I again?"

"You're smart and cute."

"Okay," I nodded. "You're sexy. Very, very sexy." I weighed the three remaining options. "And cute."

"No, that's not right!" Pamela insisted, gently flailing her arms and hands at me. "Sexy and cute are both in the looks column. Nobody wants to be all in one column."

"I really would be lying if I did not say that you are all four, which obviously you are," I mused. "Especially sexy."

"You're the best," Pamela grinned, sitting up and lunging forward, tossing her arms around me for a touching embrace.

The time may have been 3:27am, but Pamela and I were wide awake on this Friday morning as we idly hung out and lounged together on the sofa in the central room of our estate. It took some effort, but Pamela and I were finally able to get Piper to go back to sleep in her crib about an hour ago. Since that time, Pamela and I had been reuniting and making up for the five days we had been apart from each other. Everyone else was fast asleep in the master bedroom.

"I almost called you the other night," Pamela murmured, biting her lower lip as if she was about to say something forbidden. "I was so worked up and lonely for you. I ... I wanted to call you, Jeremy, and have phone sex with you."

My eyes went wide at those words. Phone sex? With Pamela? "Oh, you should have called me. You definitely should have."

Pamela reclined back on the sofa yet again and giggled at me. "I came close, trust me. But I know what a great time that you and Lindsay were having during your little vacation. I thought ... I don't know, like maybe ... I would intrude, or something. That was your time to be alone together."

"If you EVER want to have phone sex with me again, honey, you stop whatever you are doing and make that call," I told her with a grin. "I don't care who I am with, or what I am doing. You promise me now ... you will make that call."

She slapped my shoulder. "You sound just like a man!" Pamela giggled a bit. It was obvious that she was extremely relaxed now and at ease, and very happy that I was back in her life. "How many times ... did you and Lindsay actually fool around during the trip, and have sex?"

"Just once," I answered, which apparently Pamela did not believe at first. So, I elaborated, "On the flight from Norway to the United States, we took a shower together and wound up back in the bedroom. But that was it, really. It was mostly a nice ... platonic, little trip. We took a few other showers together, but nothing really happened in them."

Pamela grinned at me, the expression upon her face full of wanton mischief. "So that means you're rested?"

I chuckled. "Lindsay and I had sex nearly every single day for weeks until official word came that she was pregnant. It was nice to take a break, honestly, and just spend time, be around Lindsay the actual person. You know? We had so much fun together in Ohio. I actually feel as if I got to know her a lot better ... her background and stuff."

Pamela smiled, her effervescent, champagne-brown eyes twinkling. "I bet Lindsay had the time of her life with you."

"Any crying episodes from Piper this week that I should know of?" I asked, referring to our 7-month-old daughter.

"No, I think her colic is finally gone for good."

During the first few months of her life, Piper was a colicky baby. A mystery to medical professionals, colic is a term that applies to any healthy, well-fed infant who excessively cries for more than three hours per day, three times per week, for three consecutive weeks.

Unfortunately, Piper suffered from this early on. But it was a common ailment and the pediatrician, after two thorough examinations, ruled out any cause for concern (such as an irregular heartbeat or acid reflux, for example). He told us to wade through it, and Piper's colic problem would disappear on its own once she reached four or five months old. Sure enough, Piper had been crying a lot less in recent weeks. She was back to being a normal baby now.

Still, it had not been easy to watch my newborn daughter cry for hours at a time. She had been experiencing some sort of discomfort somewhere, yet we had no idea what it was. I was simply happy that the problem appeared to be resolved now.

I tapped Pamela on the chin a few times until she was looking right at me. "You, my dear ... I've missed you this week. I missed all of the girls."

A smile danced across her face. "We missed you, too. And Lindsay. Trish was going insane without her around. Krissy and I were watching old videos of you in the voyeur room, reminiscing about memories from the island."

I moved until my lips were just centimeters away from Pamela's, our breath mingling in the space between us. I leaned closer, tilting my head to the right, until my lips were brushing against hers and I could hear the rapid beat of her heart in the space between us. Suddenly, I wanted this woman. Bad. "I love you, Pamela. I love you so much."

A smile curved up one side of her mouth. A very sexy, seductive and amazing smile that soon overtook her face. "I love you too, Jeremy. You're everything to me. You and Krissy, actually ... everything."

Pamela giggled like a schoolgirl as I reached out and pawed at one of her breasts through the tank-top she wore. It was incredibly thin and, since she did not have a bra on underneath, offered little barrier.

"What are you trying to get at?"

"Those titties," I answered, using a word that did not come out of my mouth all that often. Still, Pamela chuckled regardless. She was definitely comfortable, and at ease.

But then, Pamela surged into me, her hands tangling in my hair, crushing the distance between us. It was hard, it was fast, it was incredible; almost like a dam bursting.

Just that quickly, Pamela was kissing me and yanking my shirt out of the waistband of my trousers. My head pounding, desire coursed throughout every vein within my body. Pamela got my shirt off and tossed it to the side, and then her hands were on my skin. Whatever arousal I previously felt was nothing compared to the nuclear bomb that her touch ignited.

Pamela pulled back, though, again biting her lower lip and smiling shyly at me. "I've wanted to do that all week!"

"What? Kiss me like a crazy woman?"

"Yes!"

Pamela moved back even further, then popped one of her incredibly large, yet firm breasts out from beneath the fabric of her tank-top. With an awe-inspiring 38d-24-37 figure, Pamela's breasts were what dreams were made of.

"Oh wow," I reacted, grasping that breast and squeezing it firmly. "Let's get them both out." I pulled her neckline down even further, exposing the opposite breast. Pamela enjoyed the attention; she laughed as I cupped the warm, sweet globes, rolling their exquisite flesh within my hands.

"They don't want to come out!" Pamela exclaimed, making a reference to how the top was taut and strained against her. I traced my thumbs over her nipples and she gasped, arching her back forward and jutting her breasts out even further.

I took a moment to allow my eyes to focus as the lights in the room bathed Pamela's skin with a soft gold glow. I used a single finger to dab at the corner of her mouth, and she giggled yet again in response. "You are beautiful."

Pamela blushed, pale crimson filling her cheeks and flushing her chest. God, I loved this woman so much.

"Oh my God," I gasped, as Pamela simply pulled her tank-top up and over her head, disposing of it completely. She was beaming at my reaction as I stared slack-jawed at her topless form. The 32-year-old cupped her breasts with both hands and squished them together, then jiggled them about.

I placed two fingers between the lush, deepened valley of her cleavage and Pamela trapped them there with her breasts, as if they were my cock. She squeezed as hard and as tight as she could, applying maximum pressure. She glanced down at my fingers and chortled, "I want a pearl necklace!"

"Okay." I said, coming to a realization. "You need to give me a blowjob now."

"Oh really?" Pamela laughed.

"Really."

She effortlessly dropped to her knees in front of the sofa and gave me a military salute. "Yes sir!" I watched Pamela with appreciative eyes beneath me as she began the process. "Oh, you would have a belt on," she complained, needing a few extra seconds to unbuckle and then unloop it. She pulled my trousers and briefs down and then, my erection, full and throbbing as it was, popped out before her very eyes.

"Well, hello!" she squealed. Pamela gave the underside of my shaft two long, sweeping licks with her tongue, then took its tip into her mouth momentarily. "I've wanted to do this all week, too!" She gripped the base of my cock and then began to work its upper half into her hot, insatiable mouth.

"Oh my God, you are amazing," I commented as Pamela stared up at me with those languorous, round eyes of hers. She began to bob her head back-and-forth at a slow, but steady pace, the expression upon her face indicating that she was experiencing just as much, if not more, pleasure than I was at the moment.

"Those eyes are so pretty," I gasped, which did nothing but prompt Pamela to focus her gaze on me even more. "Oh yes sweetheart, that's it," I said as she withdrew my shaft from her mouth, only to swipe and dab at my testicles with her velvety tongue. She sucked one into her mouth for a moment, then trailed her tongue up the full, rigid underside of my erection and again took it into her hungry, greedy mouth.

"I love your cock," Pamela murmured.

"It loves you."

Pamela began to frig her hand up-and-down the length of my shaft, her mouth following suit and swallowing more of me in the process. I reached down and grabbed my cock, abruptly pulling it from her mouth, and tilted it upward until its tip was touching my abdomen. With my testicles suddenly dangling before her face, Pamela got the idea and started to lovingly twirl her tongue in circles all along their sensitive flesh.

"I know you like being told what to do, even though you act like you don't."

Pamela laughed at me. "Maybe."

"I didn't say stop. Keep licking my balls."

Pamela did as instructed, but when she closed her eyes, I violently flung my shaft forward and bopped her forehead with it. "You big jerk!" my wife squeaked at me, giggling wildly. I smacked her forehead with my cock again for good measure.

I stepped back, then got rid of the trousers and briefs which had been bunched together at my thighs. I placed my hands on either side of Pamela and gently pulled her upward until she was standing before me. I flicked open the clasp of her jeans, then slid them down her shapely hips and legs, and off. Suddenly, Pamela was wearing nothing but a little pair of G-string panties. But they became a distant memory too as she quickly got rid of them.

Pamela was an incredible woman, intoxicating, strong and amazing. I began kissing her again, her lips, her neck, her breasts, her abdomen, every square inch of her that I could never quite get enough of. And when I dropped to my knees and kissed Pamela at the joining of her thighs, she gasped breathlessly and her hands dug into my hair.

Needing to satisfy my own lust, I stood and hoisted Pamela into my arms, then took her over to the edge of the sofa and set her down there. She eyed me expectedly as I spun her around and bent her over the arm of the sofa, her legs spread and feet on the floor, her shoulders and the side of her face now upon the cushion. It was a lewd position for her to be in, yes, but it was perfect for what I had in mind.

Pamela grunted and cried out in arousal as I grasped her hips with both hands and thrusted my cock into her from behind, one long, smooth glide, then another, another, another, until I was lost in the amazing world that was Pamela and she was calling my name in a soft, pleading tone. Her blonde hair, ore-gold bright and luxurious, whipped and shimmied about as I pounded myself into her even faster.

I staked my claim to not only Pamela's body, but her soul as well, as I slapped her upturned ass with my hands not once, not twice, but three times. The strict, but not too harsh level of discipline only added to the wondrous sensations for both of us. Soon, our bodies were bumping together quite violently, the sound of my pelvis crashing upon her ass reverberating throughout the spacious room.

"Oh my God!" Pamela cried out as I spanked her some more, but then decided to up the ante. Reaching forward with both hands, I grasped her long-flowing hair just beneath her neck. Pamela growled like a wild animal as I pulled back, arching her neck and head in the process, only to then thrust my cock in-and-out of her again.

"Oh my God!" Pamela repeated as I hammered her from behind, my hands not about to release their grip or the tension on her hair. "Oh my God! I'm so wet! Oh my God!" Her body twitched and convulsed beneath me, her breasts flopping about madly.

"JEREMY!" she roared out. "JEREMY, I'M GOING TO ... OHHHHH!" Pamela's magnificent body contracted into me with a massive spasm. At the same time, I released her hair and wrapped my arms around her from behind, pulling her as close as possible. My legs trembling, my hips bucking, I came inside of Pamela. I came hard, and with intense emotion. I nearly passed out.

I held her there until our hearts slowed and our breathing evened out. When I released Pamela, she sort of just wilted and crumpled onto the sofa as if it was her final act in life. Quite the contrary; in reality, it was just Pamela absorbing and processing the aftermath of such a heated sexual encounter.

Eventually, I helped Pamela sit up on the sofa and handed her clothes back to her, though I would have preferred to stare at her beautiful body in all its naked glory for the next 100 years. "Stay," I whispered. "Stay with me here tonight. We can fall asleep together in the pull-out bed on this sofa."

Pamela raised those alluring brown eyes to me and smiled. "There is no other place I'd rather be."

-------

End of Chapter 18 - only two more to go until the story reaches its conclusion!

-------



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 19



Chapter 19: Valkyrie

Hi! My name is Kristanna and I will be your storyteller today. Pamela and Trish got their turn at this, so I simply figured ... why not me? I stole Jeremy's keyboard and this particular chapter will be written exclusively in my words, with my viewpoint. Did you, as the reader, honestly believe that "Island Fever" would end before I got the opportunity to share what is on my devious, little mind? Of course not.

In all seriousness, in her chapter, Pamela described many of the fears and emotions that she was going through when Jeremy and I were finally able to convince her to give our unique lifestyle and family a try. Trish, on the other hand, went a much more erotic route, detailing the celebration that she and Lindsay had with Jeremy on the evening after she had informed him that she was pregnant with his child.

So, what should Kristanna do? (By the way, why do some of you refer to me as Christina in e-mail feedback to Jeremy? Butcher my name some more, why don't you!) What should I do? Should I go back in time some six years, and give a synopsis of the weekend when I first met Jeremy while vacationing in Peru with my family? You know, I felt so comfortable and at ease with Jeremy from the very beginning that I agreed to go back to his island with him the same day that I met him. Would you enjoy reading about the adventures and exploits of 19-year-old Kristanna already madly in love with Jeremy?

What about my point of view, describing my wedding with Pamela? My wedding with Devon? How about the evolution of the relationship that Scarlett has built with our family? Or the day my precious son, Kaden, was born? That would be a wonderful idea for a chapter, and I strongly considered it.

In the end, however, I decided to write about something relatively simple. Jeremy devoted all of chapter 17 and nearly half of 18 to detailing the vacation for two that he and Lindsay recently took to the United States. The little squirt wanted to tell her mother and trio of sisters (Alison is smoking hot, by the way, and I would LOVE for her to be added to our loving family one day) face-to-face that yes, Jeremy was capable of shooting more than just blanks, he had knocked Lindsay up. Finally! After many months of trying...

So, while Jeremy and Lindsay were having their fun in Cincinnati, what about the rest of us? Is there any love for Pamela, Devon, Trish, Amy, Scarlett and yours truly, as well as Kaden and Piper? Is anyone interested in knowing how we kept ourselves occupied here in Norway while Jeremy and Lindsay hammed it up in Ohio? You know what the old saying is, right? Girls just wanna have fun...

----

"Norway Fever" Written by: Kristanna

- Tuesday, June 16, 2015 -

- Sandvika, Norway -

"Cheer me up immediately or I may not make it."

I looked up from the floor in the center of the living room where I had been playing with Kaden and eyed Pamela narrowly. She had just gotten home and came bursting through the front door in a hot flash. "Well that's overly dramatic, but okay."

"Completely called for," Pamela frowned, holding up a speeding ticket, only to fall backward onto the reclining chair in a heap.

"Ohhhhh, they finally got you," Trish said from the kitchen, where she poured a glass of cherry Kool-Aid. "Busted! Have you finally learned your bad motorist lesson?"

"No," Pamela answered meekly. Then she sat up. "Wait. What's the lesson again?"

"That you're a horrible driver and should stick to mass transit at all times, Pammy," I quickly informed her. Oh, this was too easy. I loved busting on and teasing Pamela. It was definitely one of my favorite past-times in life. She even gave a little twitch when I called her Pammy. "They invented buses and subways for drivers like you."

"But I love my Lotus Elise," she mewed. "It's so cute."

Amy reached over and placed a reassuring, sympathetic hand upon Pamela's knee. "You know what's not so cute? Traffic jail. I'm not thinking orange is your color."

"No, it's not," Pamela agreed solemnly. "Would rather steer clear of traffic jail. If it even exists."

"Then listen to reason." Trish offered Pamela her glass, which she wholeheartedly drank from before handing it back.

"Thank you. That helped."

"I know. Kool-Aid tends to make the world better." And Trish was off to the sofa as Devon stepped forward and handed Piper to her horrible driver of a mother, Pamela.

"Oh, look at you!" Pamela swooned, holding and dangling Piper about just in front of her. "You look all nice and comfy-cozy in your pajamas! Are you excited that it's pajama day, Piper? You get to spend the whole day in your jammies!" Pamela tapped Piper on the nose, eliciting a series of smiles and giggles from her. "Piper, I gotta ask you. You're seven months old now. Are you excited to be SEVEN MONTHS OLD?" She gave a little gurgle in response. "You are? How are you feeling? Are you happy? YOU ARE? How's your tummy? Does it feel good? IT DOES? Oh good, I'm so glad! Kisses?" She brought Piper close and barraged her little face with kisses. Oh ... Pamela loved Piper so much.

"I need to get pregnant so I can have a child of my own," Scarlett mused, her eyes transfixed on the touching scene between mother and daughter.

"Me too," Devon nodded.

"Hmmmmm. You're wearing your study glasses and your hair is in its serious pony-tail," Pamela said to Scarlett, who was seated at the adjacent computer desk. "The serious pony-tail matters. What gives?"

"She is studying and then has to take an online test for something at the hospital," Amy advised Pamela. "We're not supposed to bother her until she is done."

"Sorry," Pamela whispered.

"It's okay," Scarlett whispered back. "But I'm going into my study tunnel now." With that, she popped her headphones on and began furiously typing away on the computer keyboard.

"How fast were you speeding?" Devon asked.

"57 in a 50," Pamela pouted. "That's nothing, really. It is not even miles per hour, it's kilometers. It is the equivalent of going 35 in a 30 mile per hour zone back in America. But that dumb cop had to pull me over anyway. Probably had something to do with meeting his monthly quota."

"No," I told Pamela, again wanting to tease her. "In reality, it had something to do with the simple fact that you were speeding and breaking the law. The roads would be a safer place without you driving on them, Pammy. If I was the police officer, I'd have taken you away in handcuffs."

Pamela glared and sneered at me. "Oh, it's your ultimate fantasy, Krissy, to have me in handcuffs. Isn't it?"

"I dream about it every night!" was my confession.

"You shouldn't give Krissy any ideas like that," Scarlett commented, pulling one headphone out. "Who knows? You may wake up one day handcuffed, and in bondage."

"I better not," Pamela countered in a deep, serious tone. Tempting, indeed, but I did not want to push Pamela too far. I often pushed her to her limit as it was. All in good fun, yes, but everyone had a breaking point. "Wait," she said to Scarlett. "Aren't you in the tunnel?"

"I heard handcuffs and my ears perked up. Shoot me."

I began to bounce Kaden up and down within my arms as I broke out into musical verse, making the lyrics up on the fly. "Everybody get up, it's time to slam now! We've got a real jam goin' down. Welcome to the one take, here's your chance, do your dance on the one take. All right, all right, shake that boo-tay, shake that boo-tay." Kaden was actually snorting and twisting about in tune with my dreadful singing. "Oooooh baby, you know what to do! You know what to do with that thing ummmmm ... ram choo." Everyone broke out into laughter as I continued, "I don't know how to rap, I don't know how to act. I just throw my hands up and I don't know what. Get it boy, get it boy..." Ehhhhh, I ran out of ideas.

"Don't quit your day job," Pamela sniped at me.

"I can't rap!" I offered in my own defense. "I don't know how to rap. I just wrap presents ... I don't rap music. I'm not a rapper. You want a present?"

"I have an inkling for some Chinese food," Devon suddenly said. "Anyone agree that would be a good lunch?"

"That sounds awesome," Trish nodded.

"Has Kaden had his lunch yet?"

"I fed him a little bit of carrots and some potatoes, and I had some homemade gravy mixed in for myself," I responded. I then threw my hand in the air and proclaimed, "My momma would be so proud of me! It was so good, except fail on my part ... where were the rolls? And no green beans."

"You know what I had earlier for breakfast?" Amy asked the group with a smile. "You do? Cocoa Puffs!" Amy giggled and added, "I've been craving Cocoa Puffs like no one's business for a week now. Cannot. Have. Enough! Krissy brought me a big bowl of it earlier."

When I set Kaden down upon the floor, Devon got onto her hands and knees and went right up to him. She roared at Kaden as if she was a wild, hungry lion, drawing a joyful squeal out of him. Kaden turned and began crawling away, but Devon followed directly behind on her hands and knees, and growled again. She backed Kaden into a corner, where he sat up against the wall and shrieked.

"Devvy's gonna get you!" I warned him.

"What does the LION say?" Trish squeaked at him.

With another wild roar from Devon, Kaden tried to hide underneath the reclining chair that Pamela was relaxing in.

"No, you can't go under there!" Devon chortled, grabbing Kaden by the foot and pulling him back toward her. She gave one final growl, then picked Kaden up and hugged him to her.

"Devvy's not a LION!" I told Kaden, tickling his cheek for good measure. "She's just the HUGGY MONSTER in disguise!"

"Hi Piper!" Pamela said to her infant daughter, giving her proper attention as well. "Hi! Look how big you are!" She tugged at her pajamas. "These barely fit you a few weeks ago and now they're almost ... too small. Oh Piper, you want to go back to bed? Well, guess what? MOMMA DOES TOO!"

"Just don't take her out driving with you."

"Shut up, Krissy!" Pamela playfully snapped at me.

Trish was laughing. "I sense hostility here!"

Pamela turned her attention toward Amy. "How are you feeling, Aimers? I know that last night, when you went to bed, you were not feeling well at all."

"Yeah, my stomach really hurt and I felt lots of pressure," Amy frowned. "But I woke up this morning and Krissy brought me breakfast in bed... Cocoa Puffs! It was so nice!"

"You need to do something more than sit on the couch and complain all day," Devon teased Amy.

"I'M PREGNANT!" Scarlett mocked her, joining the fun.

"I woke up this morning and my stomach still felt really tight," Amy said, running her hands over and across her baby bump. "I feel as if everything is moving down, and my skin just feels really stretched. I feel like I just can't move." Devon put a reassuring hand on Amy's shoulder as she continued, "I think after lunch, I am gonna take a bath ... and try and make it so that my stomach doesn't feel so tight."

"If you need me to rub your belly, you know I will."

"Awwwww," Amy swooned in response to Trish.

"I have an appointment at the stylist later on," Devon offered. "I'm going to try out someone new this time to cut my hair. You think you may want to tag along, Amy?"

"Don't get rid of the layers in your hair," Pamela said to Devon. "They're sassy, like you. And whatever you do, you need to stay blonde. That cannot change."

"Opinionated. I'll keep that in mind."

"I'm just going to stay home and relax today," Amy replied.

"Hey, I could use some fresh air," Trish announced to us. "How about I go and get the Chinese take-out for everyone?"

I leaned back against the sofa. "Really? That would be great. Thanks a lot, honey."

Pamela eyed her suspiciously. "Trish is volunteering to run an errand, pick up food? Is the world coming to an end? Has anyone checked the sky recently?"

"It just so happens that I'm an incredibly helpful person," Trish shot back with a smile. "I mean, look at me."

"Could be that," Devon said in contemplation. "But more than likely, Pamela's idea."

Trish offered her most impressive eye roll. "Then enjoy it while you can, you guys. I'm off."

----

Scarlett and I actually wound up giving Amy a bubble bath later in the afternoon. Amy was having a really tough week and I certainly would have felt guilty if I did not offer to at least aid her in her bath. She had been complaining of tingling and numbness in her hands and feet for the past few days. Having gone through a pregnancy of my own, I knew that this was normal and, since she did not claim it was overly painful, there was not much to worry about in my opinion. Scarlett, our family doctor as we called her, agreed. Amy also had an aching back and hips. Again, it was normal; kind of went with the territory of being 31 weeks pregnant.

But Amy's biggest problem, I truly believed, was the simple fact that Jeremy was not here at the moment. You see, Jeremy is our rock. Jeremy is such a supportive and attentive husband for all of us, but he seemed to dial it up to truly extraordinary heights whenever one of us was late in pregnancy. Jeremy is always there, it seems, and knows just what to say or do to calm our nerves and make everything right again. He certainly did it for me when I was pregnant with Kaden, and then Pamela when she still carried Piper. Recently, Jeremy had been paying extra special, close attention to Amy.

With him visiting the United States with Lindsay, however, Amy suddenly had a void in her life that she was not used to. Oh, I knew that Jeremy was only going to be gone for five days. It was Tuesday, and he and Lindsay would arrive home sometime after midnight on Thursday night / Friday morning. But Amy, unfortunately, seemed a bit lost without Jeremy.

I was doing my best, as were all of the other women around the house. But we were no substitute for Jeremy. I was convinced that once he returned home later in the week, Amy would suddenly start to feel a whole lot better, and much more energetic. He was the best possible medicine for her.

None of us were angry or upset at the fact that Jeremy had actually gone off to Cincinnati on the spur of the moment with Lindsay. After all, Lindsay was his wife just like the rest of us, and she had just learned late last week that she was finally pregnant. Lindsay wanted to share that news with her family face-to-face in Ohio, instead of over the telephone, or video chat on the Internet. Being there in person would certainly make the announcement all the more special for her, right? Who could blame her, or find fault in that?

Jeremy would never allow Lindsay to make that trip all by herself, so he volunteered to go as well once the idea popped into her fertile, little mind. Jeremy had family in Ohio and wanted to see them, too (although that did not work out well). Plus, he was the father-to-be. Jeremy needed to be there, too.

But not only was Amy missing Jeremy ... all of us were. He was our rock. Jeremy was always there for us, no matter the situation. Not having him around was different, and downright depressing. Everyone in this house would be overjoyed once he and Lindsay finally made their return home in a few days.

All things considered, I think Scarlett and I did a pretty good job trying to enliven Amy's spirits and make her feel more at ease. She reclined back in the bubble bath and let us do all of the work as we scrubbed and massaged every square inch of her body. I found it funny that Scarlett insisted on keeping Quackers (Kaden's favorite floating rubber duck) perched atop Amy's baby bump for the duration of the bath.

My earlier point was emphasized when I received a telephone call from Jeremy. He said hello and wanted to know how I was doing, of course, but his main purpose in calling was to talk to Amy. She just lit up at the sound of his voice. Jeremy was his usual, calm and endearing self, being overly positive with Amy and talking her through whatever discomfort she felt.

We kept him on speaker-phone for the majority of the call. Apparently, they were visiting the grave-site of Lindsay's father. Jeremy spoke of how emotional it was for him to watch Lindsay as she openly communed with her father's spirit in the cemetery. Lindsay eventually got on the telephone herself, and claimed that her father informed her that she would have a baby girl, Trish a baby boy and that Dani Grace, Amy's incoming daughter, would be born perfectly healthy with no issues whatsoever.

"And Dad says Scarlett is the next one to get pregnant!" Lindsay gleefully informed us. Scarlett's eyes, as you may imagine, seemed to bulge from their sockets. And she smiled.

Personally speaking, I did not have a clue as to what to think of Lindsay and the discussions that she was having with her father. Did I believe that they were really happening, or was it all just a wild figment of her imagination? No matter, Lindsay thought it was real. She was utterly convinced. That was the only thing that truly mattered to me. Lindsay found great comfort and peace in the ongoing discussions.

----

After a quiet and uneventful evening, I woke up Wednesday morning and had the sudden urge to go to Leo's Lekeland, an indoor play-center and trampoline arena for children and adults of all ages located in the heart of Oslo. A very different way to exercise, jumping and bouncing off the walls in the massive trampoline room of Leo's Lekeland gave a cardio workout that could make your heart pump like never before.

My parents used to take me to Leo's Lekeland when I was younger. There were so many different fun activities that I remembered. Today, I decided to take Kaden there so he could get his first taste of something that I enjoyed immensely when I was a little girl. Devon and Scarlett offered to come with us and make it a hot date; three crazy chicks and the wild man! Pamela and Trish would stay home and look after Amy and Piper.

Kaden was wide-eyed and probably confused at first, but still had fun, as I held him in my arms and bounced about in the trampoline room. He would squeal and become really happy every time we hopped off the edge and landed together in the huge pit of foam balls.

Scarlett really got into the swing of things rather quickly, jumping and bounding several feet high into the air, only to do a series of back-flips and somersaults each time she landed in the foam pit. Kaden loved being tossed and thrown about; Jeremy would do it with him quite often. So, I tossed him from the edge of the trampoline into Scarlett's waiting arms in the foam pit. Kaden was having a blast!

There were several other children around, mostly ages two through ten, with their parents in close proximity. Kaden may have been on the younger side for a place like this, but that did not really matter to me. While Scarlett and Devon watched him, I managed to do a couple of crazy jumps myself. It was fun, and exhilarating!

Kaden could not walk on his own just quite yet, but did a pretty good job of it if a grown-up held his hand and offered assistance. I did just that as we strolled throughout the trampoline room. Each time I released his hand, though ... POOF, Kaden plopped and fell down after a second or two onto the bouncy surface like a house of cards.

Going into the next trampoline area actually brought back a host of bad memories for me! Instead of foam pits, this particular area had trampolines on the walls as well as the floor, so it was easy to jump and ping-pong yourself about.

In the past, one of the corners here actually featured a velcro wall (but no longer did). I would lunge myself into the velcro wall, and my long, golden, flowing locks as an eight-year-old got stuck, and my cousin had to individually rip my hair off of the velcro wall. Arvid was so sweet to me. Yet I remember my head hurting all summer ... I felt raw!




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 19



"Isn't this every child's ultimate dream?" Scarlett asked both Devon and yours truly. "A trampoline room?"

"As long as there's no velcro!"

We jumped and ricocheted off the walls for several minutes, but decided to give Kaden a break in the process. He seemed a little too worked up and tired from the first area. Devon took him over to the concession area and bought three cookies.

"You tell me if it's good," Devon said to Kaden as he idly nibbled on a chocolate chip delight.

"Of course it's good, it's a cookie!" I responded for him. I got a strawberry banana smoothie and a cup of ice cream, then an exhausted Scarlett finally came over and joined us.

Kaden was just starting to learn how to use a crayon and color. He kept himself occupied and happy shoving a crayon around on a piece of scratch paper as Devon, Scarlett and I enjoyed the remainder of our snack meal. Kaden also really loved meeting Leo, the ultra friendly lion and center host. Actually, Leo was some dude in a lion outfit. Details, right? Regardless, Kaden was happy when he got his picture taken with Leo. Devon, Scarlett and I got pictures with him, too.

There were other activities here as well, such as the trampoline dodge ball court, an obstacle and endurance area for adults, and a whole slew of arcade games. We decided to cut out early, though, because Kaden was in serious need of a good nap. He slept the whole way home in the car.

----

It was an achingly beautiful day out as Pamela and I, along with Lindsay's dog Shredder, walked the eastern perimeter of the farm sometime later that afternoon. The air was warm and crisp as the smell of the tall, majestic trees and shrubbery wafted around us. Everything always seemed to happen in a hurry out in the world itself, but here on the farm life was a much slower and more enjoyable pace. This was home to me.

Pamela studied me. "Okay, Krissy. You're doing that Disney princess thing again. All happy and overjoyed?"

I shook my head at her, still smiling. "I just love this farm. I've lived here my whole life. I never want to leave."

"It is pretty nice," Pamela agreed.

We stopped for Shredder to sniff a nearby tree in case it had anything to offer. He was actually a pretty cool dog. Lindsay had picked him out from the Sandvika city pound the day he was scheduled to be put down, saving his life by mere hours. That was nearly a year ago, and Lindsay had been his best friend ever since. Though none of us knew for sure, we had Shredder pegged as part terrier, part corgi. He had an extra round body with short, little legs, giving him a very unique appearance all his own.

Pamela and I eventually found a nice, open area of lawn and took a seat there. Shredder danced all around us like it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him as we idly sat there and relaxed.

"Hey, Shredder. Is this what you're looking for?" Pamela produced and held up his favorite tennis ball in all its fuzzy glory. His response was to launch into a series of vertical leaps as if he was competing in the doggy high jump.

I clapped my hands together for him. "You're a good boy, Shredder. The best, aren't you? Look at that form." I turned to Pamela. "You should throw the ball for him."

"I should throw it?" She imitated a throwing motion.

"I think you probably should."

"I might throw it ... now that you mention it."

Shredder stared at Pamela, then me, listening intently to our conversation, obviously hoping beyond any and all reason that his wildest dream was about to come true and that tennis ball would indeed get thrown. After a few more impressive jumps and a series of whines from him, Pamela threw the ball into the distance and Shredder furiously bounded after it, his short legs a blur, as if his very life depended on it.

Pamela stretched her own long legs out in front of her and popped on her sunglasses. "Jeremy called just before you and the others got home from the trampoline place," she told me. "Said him and Lindsay were going to the waterpark."

"Oh, don't worry," I sighed, gently squeezing Pamela's elbow. "I know you miss them both, sweetheart. They will be back home late tomorrow night."

"I'm happy that Lindsay gets to spend all that quality time alone with Jeremy this week," Pamela countered. "I'm just more worried for Amy. She is doing much better than yesterday, but I know for a fact that Amy is not the same without Jeremy around. He sort of, I don't know, grounds her, or something."

I smiled at her. "Jeremy has that effect on all of us. That is why we love him so much. One of many reasons."

"You know what?" Pamela purred, wrapping her arms around me from the side and grinning broadly.

"What?"

"I love you."

"Awwwww," I groaned, moving in closer and bumping noses with her. "I love you too, my sweet, precious, little Pammy."

"PAMELA!"

I chuckled at her reaction. It was forever priceless to me. She and I shared a thoughtful hug and kissed each other before reclining back onto the grassy knoll beneath us and gazing up at the blue, summer sky. Shredder returned with the ball in his jaws, only to drop it beside Pamela and whine some more. She tossed it into the distance again.

"You think the two rug-rats are still napping?" Pamela asked, obviously referring to Kaden and Piper.

"Oh yeah," I responded, glancing at my wristwatch. "It won't be time for them to wake up for another 45 minutes. Regardless, Trish and Scarlett are there to keep an eye on them. If either wakes up, I told Trish to text us both."

And just like clockwork, there was a buzzing in my pocket. No, it was not a vibrator (although that would have been insanely awesome). Rather, it was my cell phone. Trish texted and said Kaden was throwing a fit. So much for my walk with Pamela! Ahhhhh, the joys of parenthood...

----

A good two hours later, I was in the kitchen with Pamela, hovering over her shoulder and essentially eavesdropping on her activities. With a five inch height advantage, it was easy for me to do so. It also annoyed Pamela to all four corners of the globe, which made it fun and totally worth my effort. Pamela was naturally shy and serious; this was my way of breaking down those walls and interjecting some humor and spirit into her life.

"You're over-seasoning that chicken."

Pamela let her mouth fall open. "I'm sorry. I thought I was in charge of sauteing the chicken and you, nosey girl, were on mac-and-cheese duty. Did I miss the memo?"

I pinched her side playfully. "No, Miss Priss. I'm just looking out for my dinner. I'm hungry."

"Ouch. Then you shouldn't abuse the chef."

"I shouldn't. You're right." I closed the distance and kissed her on the cheek. "Sorry for the abuse, Chef Sexy."

Pamela exhaled slowly and even grinned, obviously enjoying the attention, the flirtation. "Totally worth it."

All six adults (Pamela, Devon, Trish, Amy, Scarlett and yours truly) and the two babies (Kaden and Piper) had an easy dinner at the table. Pamela's chicken came out a little dry, but no one really seemed to mind. Except me!

"Who's your favorite superhero?"

Pamela glared at me in amusement. "Excuse me?"

"When you were a kid."

Pamela thought for a moment. "Wonder Woman, I guess."

My mind danced with an idea. "You'd make a perfect Wonder Woman, you know. I was thinking that once Jeremy gets back, all of us can dress up in costumes and surprise him one night maybe this weekend. You KNOW how he loves us in costumes."

Amy giggled. "I already know what Lindsay will dress up as. A cheerleader! Captain of the Suck Squad."

Everyone laughed and turned back to our dinner, eating peacefully, pop music playing in the background.

Amy set her fork down. "I haven't exactly had the best of weeks and I may not be the easiest person to get along with at the moment, but all of you have been there for me through thick and thin. So ... thank you. Thank you all."

Trish smiled at her. "Oh, Amy ... come on. That's what we are here for. We helped Krissy and Pamela through the tough stretches in their pregnancies. It only makes sense that we do the same for you. And I know when the time comes, you will be right there for me and Lindsay when we need you."

Amy squeezed Trish's left hand. "You bet I will."

"You watch," I warned the group, grinning. "Jeremy is going to get a massive sunburn at that waterpark today in Ohio and when he gets home tomorrow night, his skin will be redder than fire."

"He'll be crying like a baby," Scarlett added.

"Lindsay never burns," Trish chimed in. "She is lucky."

----

With Kaden already fast asleep, I stood in the nursery at 11:15pm and patiently waited for Pamela to work her motherly magic and get Piper to doze off as well. Pamela was wearing yoga pants and a white t-shirt. She looked cute and cuddly, and while I wanted to touch her (among many other things), I knew it would have to wait until the little one was snoozing.

Pamela ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. "She's finally down and out," was her quiet whisper.

I turned and slowly exited the baby nursery, but then felt a pair of hands on either side of my waist and I let them guide me toward the wall. I was gently pushed against it and felt a warm, tingling sensation on the very back of my neck. It was Pamela's breath.

"You tease me way too much," Pamela murmured, an extremely playful tint in her voice, as she latched onto my right arm and pinned it behind my back. "You need to stop doing that."

I chuckled at her. "I don't see that happening."

"And you should probably volunteer at a soup kitchen or something to atone for all the times you have teased me."

"I can ladle soup with the best of 'em."

I felt my hair being pushed aside, then luscious lips descended softly on the nape of my neck and kissed slowly around to its side. I closed my eyes as a delicious shiver of pleasure moved all throughout me.

"And this Pammy business has to stop," she deadpanned.

I spun around against the wall and grinned at her. "Why do you want to take my fun away like that?" I slipped my hands beneath Pamela's t-shirt and moved upward, stopping just short of her breasts. "God, you're beautiful."

Pamela hitched in a breath, obviously becoming aroused. "But it isn't fun for me."

"You LOVE being called Pammy." I slowly removed the white t-shirt from her body. "Come on, admit it."

"We're supposed to be talking this out. Coming to some sort of an understanding. Not taking my clothes off."

"Can't we do both?" With one arm around Pamela's hips, I lowered my head and kissed her breast through the fabric of her bra. And with that, she apparently lost her resolve.

"Take it off," she simply told me.

I lifted my head and smiled at her. "There's my Pammy."

I slid the straps of the bra from Pamela's shoulders to her elbows, momentarily trapping her arms there. I dropped my head once more and pulled the bra all the way down and off, then set to work on driving her crazy.

Pamela moaned with desire as she arched her body, shoving her large breast more fully into my mouth. I felt a familiar tingling between my thighs when Pamela soon caught my mouth with a kiss that suddenly had both of us hungry with passion.

With Amy asleep herself in the master bedroom, and Devon and Scarlett not too far away themselves as they longed on either side of her, Pamela and I mutually decided to sneak off toward one of the extra bedrooms.

Pamela's bra and my tank-top landed on the floor along the way. She and I bumped into doors and walls as we kicked our shoes off. Finally making it to the entryway of the guest corridor, I again found myself pressed against the wall. Pamela was trailing kisses down my body and making quick work of my jeans. As Pamela slid them down my legs, I splayed my hands against the wall as an onslaught of desire shot straight throughout me. Pamela stood and straightened her body up against me in the sexiest move of the year.

Pamela moved her hand to my neck and held it in place as she kissed me with great need and passion. Our lips danced together in rhythm as Pamela brushed her hand between my thighs and gently nudged me there.

Wordlessly, Pamela guided me into the guest bedroom, where she eased me onto my back. But instead of following me down, Pamela stood in front of me and slowly removed what few items of of her clothing that still remained.

"You're so perfect," I breathed, in awe of her naked form.

Pamela lowered herself onto me and kissed me with skilled precision, then began to grind against me in a steady motion. I sighed and growled as she pulled my bra down and hungrily sucked on a nipple. She went lower, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along my breasts, my midriff, my stomach. She parted my thighs and ran her thumbs up their inner halves before serenading them with an onslaught of kisses.

But it was the first touch of Pamela's tongue, its first sweeping swipe across my center, that made me gasp. The second and third lick had me arching my back for more. But when Pamela pulled me more firmly into her mouth, I tumbled over the abyss, falling into a white-hot release. I dug my fingers into Pamela's shoulders and rode out the shock waves.

I collapsed onto the mattress, limp and satisfied, my breathing ragged, yet my heart full and bubbling with sheer devotion. I tipped Pamela's face up toward mine. "I love you," I whispered, stroking her hair, savoring the way she felt against me. As our lips met one more time, everything in the world seemed right and I sank fully into the kiss. Being in Pamela's arms had that sort of effect on me.

----

It was the wee hours of the morning, but neither Pamela nor myself had gone to sleep just yet. We were much too happy and content to drift off, no matter what the ramifications would be on the day ahead. Naked and tangled in sheets, we spent the last hour talking and laughing about anything and everything.

I traced lazy circles upon the base of Pamela's stomach. "Who did you go to prom with in high school?"

Pamela laughed. "I love your random, irrelevant questions."

"You should be used to them by now. It's just how my mind works. Now answer the question."

"His name was Diego and..."

"I'm sorry," I suddenly interjected, cutting her off. "Did you just say DIEGO? Was this a soap opera? Did you go to the prom during an episode of Days of Our Lives?"

Pamela tickled me for that and pulled me over until she was partially on top. "Do you want to hear the story about my prom date or make fun of me some more?"

"I intend to do both. Please ... continue."

"Diego bought me a corsage, the wrist kind, and we went to Olive Garden with two other couples. It was real fancy."

"Oh, I know. They have unlimited bread sticks."

That earned me another poke in the ribs, to which I laughed and squirmed before finally catching Pamela's wrists and seizing control of them. "I am sorry for making fun of you. Truly, I am. I am. I promise to behave and not mock the chain restaurants of your youth, but I'm very ticklish and if you continue your assault, I may just die. What would you do then?"

Pamela was giggling as well. "I do admit that I prefer you live. I'll see what I can do. Shall I continue?"

"Hmmmmm," I groaned, placing a small kiss at the base of her neck as I listened intently.

"Diego and I danced the night away at the prom to Britney Spears, Pearl Jam and the Backstreet Boys."

"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better," I mused, splaying more kisses along the length of her neck. All of my love and erotic attention was definitely having an effect on her. "By all means, please, keep going. Then what?"

"We made out in his car at one of those lookout points."

I slipped my right knee between Pamela's thighs and pushed upward. "Yeah? Were you into him?"

"Not at all," she frowned. "I actually had my sights set on someone else." With those words, I laughed and trailed my lips lower, pulling one of her nipples into my mouth and circling it slowly with my tongue. When I resurfaced, I made eye contact with Pamela and smiled brightly at her.

"Who were you into?"

"Kari Anne [Last Name]."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "A girl? No way!"

"Stop it," Pamela squealed, laughing at the overly shocked and dramatic facial expression I sported.

"Did anyone know about your secret crush?"

"Nope," Pamela answered. "I never told anyone about Kari Anne and her penchant for hair twirling during history class until now. Used to drive me up the wall!"

"Ohhhhh, hair twirling is the worst kind of teasing." I began to rock myself ever so slightly against her.

Pamela closed her eyes and sighed at the sudden rush of pleasure. "Oh, I can think of others."

"I like it when you tell me your secrets." My playful nature seemed to fade, and my eyes held sincerity as I brought things between us to a stop for a brief moment. "Especially the secrets you don't want others to know about."

Pamela reached down and brushed the hair away from my forehead. "You're just so easy to talk to and get along with, Krissy. And you're also sexy. Very, very sexy."

"Sexy makes everything easier," I nodded.

"Could you and I have possibly flirted any more than we did during dinner earlier?" she wondered. "My eyes spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the skin peeking out from beneath the top button of your shirt, and your eyes were on my bottom lip, like they are right now."

"My eyes were on your big ass titties!" I corrected her.

Pamela laughed at my remark, then placed her hands on either of my shoulders and made twirling circles with her thumbs. "Can I just say that you and Jeremy, really our entire family, but especially you and Jeremy..." Pamela's words trailed off, but a smile took shape on her face.

"What, baby?"

"You have no idea how happy I am in life right now." Now it was my turn to smile as I studied her. Pamela even had a tear in her eye as she proclaimed, "I've come a long way since my days in Maryland working ... at the strip club."

I inclined my head and kissed just underneath Pamela's jaw, her hair tickling my face in the most sensuous manner. I closed my eyes as my body responded in spades to the amount of togetherness and love that I felt for her at the moment.

I slid both hands up her thighs, then slipped one between our pressed bodies. I brought my face back enough so I could maintain eye contact as I applied direct pressure to Pamela's very center, her core. Our bodies were still glistening and bathing in the aftermath of earlier orgasms, yet the contact was enough to draw a loud, audible gasp from Pamela, who clearly wanted more. "Krissy," she managed to say as I began to move my hand in a slow, steady pattern, applying pressure and then easing back at random intervals. Pamela closed her eyes and sighed, her lips parted in pure rapture.

"Look at me, Pamela."

She found my eyes and held on tight. That connection only heightened the allure, elevated the heat, between us. Pamela writhed against my hand as the tension slowly built within her, continuing its ascent. I increased the pressure with which I touched her and Pamela held on for all she was worth, her breathing erratic and outside of her control. It did not take long before yet another orgasm ripped through her fast and hard. Pamela stared at me, her mouth agape, as she rode out the powerful waves of pleasure that barraged her every inch. Finally, she braced her hands upon my shoulders and blinked several times before floating back down to reality.

"What? What are you smiling about?"

"About how happy I am right now," I answered, essentially repeating what she said to me moments ago. But I decided to change things up a bit. "Not just how I am happy with our life and marriage, but right here, right now ... with you."

Pamela broke into a smile that could light up any room. "I love you, Kristanna. I love you with all of my heart."




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 19



I absently intertwined my fingers with Pamela's and stole another look of the gorgeous woman nestled on top of me.

I found myself in a warm and wonderful place. It was a place where I felt safe and loved. It made perfect sense. I had found what I had been searching for my entire life, and it was better than I ever possibly imagined it could be.

"I love you too, Pamela." I then embraced her and added, "I'm going to hug and kiss on you for the rest of the night."

[[[End of Chapter 19]]]

Only one more chapter to go until the story is over!



Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 20



Chapter 20: Dani Grace

-- Sunday, August 2, 2015 --

-- Sandvika, Norway --

(Seven weeks after the previous chapter)

After Amy and I returned home from an otherwise routine trip to the grocery store, she began to experience some pretty severe back pain and, as a family, we tried to figure out whether or not she was in labor. Amy, who was 38 weeks into her pregnancy, took one step into the house and suddenly complained that she could barely move, and it was difficult just to breathe. Scarlett, a delivery nurse at the university hospital in Oslo, listened as Amy explained she was not having any contractions, but was suffering excruciating back pain. Scarlett said that the local hospital here in Sandvika would welcome her in, day or night, if she wanted to get monitored.

Amy decided to wait things out a bit. She took a hot bath, which made her feel a little better. Scarlett suggested that she wait another 20 minutes and if the discomfort did not fade by then, it would be best if Amy went to the hospital for observation.

Kaden, who had his first birthday just four days ago, came rumbling over and both hugged and kissed Amy's massive baby bump when she lifted her t-shirt to her midriff. Kaden loved to dote and bop his head against Amy's belly. Really, could anyone blame him? Kaden wanted to meet his baby sister.

Amy was stubborn, though, and was pacing back-and-forth 45 minutes later. "My back feels raw," she complained. "But I don't want to go to the hospital again unless I'm sure I'm in labor. I want to be absolutely positive."

And then, in her next breath, Amy changed her mind.

"Right there," she whined. "I can feel it. It's worse than it was just two seconds ago. My back really hurts. Let's just go. Let's go to the hospital."

Kristanna and Pamela helped me pack a few bags to take to the medical facility here in Sandvika just in case Amy was in labor. Trish and Lindsay got the honor of tagging along with us. We did not want to cause a public scene by having six women and one man (not to mention two very special guests) all hovering and fawning over Amy at once. Nor did we want to overwhelm her with too many people and voices, so I capped the number of wives and visitors for her to two at a time.

Sometime later, Amy's eyes were closed and she was in dire pain as she lay in a hospital bed with a nurse beside her, explaining the situation. "You're dilated to a four, so what we will do is watch you for about an hour or two ... see if it changes, see if it's labor and if you have any contractions, and then go from there. Okay?"

"I was at a three two days ago when I went to the doctor," Amy told the nurse. "Is a three to a four not that big of a jump? Is that not a big deal?"

"We need to see how you are in one to two hours," the nurse reiterated. "Then we will go from there."

As things turned out, Amy was indeed in labor. The ensuing contractions were fairly light, but the hospital staff made the decision to admit Amy and prepare her for an I-V to administer antibiotics to combat Group B Streptococcus, an infection that was found in her vagina during a prenatal examination two weeks ago. The "Strep B" bacteria was found in about one out of every four healthy, adult women, and a mother could easily pass the infection to her baby during delivery. With the antibiotics, however, the chances of doing so went down to about one in 4,000. I was not concerned at all.

After her I-V was in place and she was given some pain medication, the doctor actually suggested that Amy get out of bed and walk up and down the hallway. He wanted to get her blood flowing and see if the activity would help her progress at all. Amy was in a lively, chipper mood; she danced and bounced throughout the hospital corridors, but suddenly stopped and finished with a slow walk back to her room. "My stomach hurts all of a sudden."

Amy had since dilated to a five, and was well on her way. It was time for me to call in the cavalry.

This story is not the place for me to explain details and everything that transpired, but during my trip to Ohio with Lindsay nearly two months ago, I made it a point to go to the home of Amy's parents, Robert and Kathleen, and tell them that their daughter was pregnant and she was having a rough go of it. I knew that Robert and Kathleen had issues with Amy (and vice versa), but I implored to them that she was their flesh and blood, and their presence when she gave birth to Dani Grace in Norway would mean the absolute world to her. Long story short, they agreed to be here when the time came. Convincing them felt like a major victory for me.

So, Robert and Kathleen arrived at the hospital from their hotel in downtown Oslo after I called and informed them that Amy was in labor. I did not know if this was the beginning of a true reconciliation or not, but Amy cried and became overly emotional when her mother gave her a hand-made blanket with flower designs all over it, saying it was a present for Dani Grace. "I made it myself for her," Kathleen told us.

Past dinner-time, and with Amy having not eaten since lunch, the doctor allowed her to snack on some potato chips, pretzels and jello before telling her no more food. Robert and Kathleen sat in the corner and shared friendly chatter with their daughter as Trish and Lindsay took turns holding the video camera. Four guests in the room (five if you count me) was excessive and pushing it in my opinion, but I let it slide because two of them were Amy's parents and I could not leave all of our wives out in the cold.

Once she was dilated to a six, the nurse broke Amy's water. She was definitely relaxed and in a good mood as they pumped more medicine into her. I must have asked the doctor three or four times if they gave her the antibiotics for the infection that she had (I was worried after all). Group B Streptococcus is harmless to adults unless they have extreme medical conditions, but it can cause a disease in newborns if passed from the mother during birth.

Amy fell asleep for a spell past midnight, and I could not help but to smile at the image of her in the same room with her estranged parents, who were now camped out in the corner on a pull-out sofa bed. When she woke up, I held and kissed Amy's hand, telling her how proud of I was of her, how much I loved her, and that our little girl would soon be here.

Amy later cried as a hospital employee stood behind her as she sat up on the bed, inserting an epidural - a long, thin needle - into her lower back. The numbing medicine would provide her relief, decreasing the pain and sensations, but not eliminating them completely. I stood right there with her, holding her hand, and wiping away her tears.

Moments later, Amy appeared scared and pale as a ghost, so I gave her a foot massage.

At 1:00am, Amy was feeling really nauseous and the doctor gave her medication for it as well. Things were progressing slower than anticipated; she was now dilated to a seven and we were playing the waiting game. We turned off the lights in the room and everyone tried to catch a little sleep.

At 2:20am, Amy was checked, and she was now at a ten. We had been here for over 12 hours, but now it was in the final stages as the staff began to prepare her for delivery. Amy was shaking and trembling like crazy, complaining of constant contractions, but also felt an incredible sense of happiness and relief. Her pain was mostly gone thanks to the epidural. I awoke her parents and told them the wonderful news.

The doctor and an entire band of nurses and assistants were in Amy's room, tending to her, by 2:35am. I held one of her hands, and her mother the opposite one, as the doctor coached and guided her along to the pot at the end of the rainbow.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten ... GO GO GO! And big breath. One, two, three..." He must have counted one through ten probably 10 or 15 times, but when Amy let out a loud, harrowing shriek, my senses went into overdrive and I knew that the time was at hand. I was about to become a father yet again!

In that exact, split-second, something amazing happened to me. As I held Amy's hand and did my best to encourage her along, everything that I had ever experienced with her over the past two-plus years since we first met on the island flashed in my mind's eye.

That very first night, when she showed up at my bedroom door and seduced me like no one ever had before. Amy had some mental issues back then, and I remember coming close to arguing with her later that week when I suggested she seek professional help. As the days and weeks passed, Amy began to dominate and take advantage of a young and very impressionable Lindsay, although all she really wanted was to be taken care of, loved, and controlled herself. I seized control and made her seek the help that eventually set her on the path to wellness. I vividly recalled our visit to Dr. Humala in Peru, the psychiatrist, who diagnosed and treated her. I also remember how beautiful Amy looked in her classy, yellow, business-style outfit that day.

How about the night on the boat, when Amy professed her love for me, and her willingness to enter into the family that Kristanna and I were just starting to build? And oh, months later, our wedding. Amy looked so divine in her bridal gown; we got married on Valentine's Day, 2014.

It was less than a year ago when Amy went to the hospital to get surgery to correct a mistake from her past. With Kaden already born and Piper well on her way, Amy desperately wanted to be a mother herself. In my mind's eye, I recalled watching the medical team wheel her off to surgery, hoping to undo the fact that she got her tubes tied a decade earlier.

After months of trying to conceive a baby and nearly giving up hope, Amy came home from the doctor one day last December like a ball of fire, telling anyone and everyone who would listen that she was finally pregnant. I had never seen her so worked up and happy before! The evolution of her belly as it continually grew and expanded was pure magic to me, and I let her know that during every step of the way.

I also recalled just over two months ago, after Trish's father died in an automobile accident in Canada, Amy took the news really hard and complained of extreme stomach pain. She was rushed to the hospital and, for a time, I honestly wondered whether or not our baby would survive.

Then, in recent weeks, I devoted everything I had to Amy and making sure that she was comfortable, and at ease. All of my time, my effort, was focused on her. And rightfully so. Just last night, as she lay in my arms, Amy told me that our daughter could not have a better father in the whole, wide world than me. I felt so warm inside!

All of those thoughts and images - from the very first day I met Amy up to and including last evening - flashed throughout my mind in a millisecond, an instant. Yet the memories were vivid and clear, and I remembered every minor detail. It was the ultimate precursor, perhaps a sign from God Almighty, for...

"Let's go for it. Big breath, everything you got! And one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Atta girl, and right back at it ... PUSH! One, two, three, four ... push push push, harder, harder!"

"OH MY GOD!" Amy screamed out.

"I see a little hand and arm coming out!" a nurse said.

"OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" And with that, there was the beautiful sound of a newborn baby crying. I broke down and started sobbing myself at the first glimpse of my daughter, Danielle Grace, born at 2:44am on Monday, August 3, 2015. She looked exactly like Amy!

"Do you want to hold her?" the doctor asked, grinning.

"YES! YES!" Amy roared as her own mother hugged her neck and shoulders from above, standing over top of her. Robert, her father, had the biggest grin as he patted my shoulder in congratulations. Wow! Her parents were actually here! I still could not believe it.

Amy was so happy; she was babbling as she took her baby into her arms for the first time. "I DON'T ... I ... OHHHHH ... I ... she's so little!" Amy cradled Dani Grace to her chest and shoulder, skin to skin, as the nurse put a small blanket over top of her. "Oh, hi there!" Amy squealed, kissing her forehead for the first time. "Are you breathing okay?"

Overcome with raw emotion, Amy momentarily turned her focus to me and began laughing. "JEREMY! We have a BABY!" Dani Grace continued crying, though, forcing Amy to look back at her. "Hey, it's okay! It's okay, honey ... I'm going to take care of you from now on! I'm going to take care of you!"

"Good job, Mom!" I encouraged Amy, squeezing her arm. "I am so proud of you right now ... you have no idea!"

"You're so little!" Amy whispered at our daughter, hugging her. "Tell these doctors and nurses to stop moving you around, it won't be so bad and you won't cry so much!"

Amy then looked up at me again, tears gushing down her face and reluctantly said, "I could do this five more times."

"Oh, I'm sure you could!" I laughed back at her. What, Amy being the mother of six children? If all of the women in my life had six babies each, I would be the father of 42 - an entire brigade! Amy was merely joking, of course, but it made for a good laugh regardless.

A few moments later, Lindsay had the video camera pointed right at Amy as a relaxed and subdued Dani Grace, all swaddled up in a blanket, was resting upon her shoulder as she sprayed kiss after kiss across her face and head.

"This is little Dani Grace," Amy told the camera. "She is so fresh, she hasn't even been bathed yet. She's so perfect!"

"She's an angel!" Trish commented.

When the nurse momentarily took Dani Grace away, Amy had a serious pout. "I want to hold her!" But Dani Grace needed to be weighed. She came into the world at six pounds, five ounces. Her little eyes were open and she let out a big yawn on the scale; Dani Grace was so so adorable, such a treasure! They measured her head at 33 centimeters around.

"Let's allow Dad to hold her for awhile," the nurse said to Amy, handing Dani Grace to me. "We need to get you all cleaned up, then you can hold your baby again."

"She's so precious!" Lindsay whispered in my ear as I cradled Dani Grace in my arms for the first time. Lindsay patted her own stomach - she was nearly three months pregnant herself - and proclaimed, "I can't wait until it's my turn."

-------

"Oh my Gosh," Amy sighed, perhaps two hours later.

"She's doing so good," I observed.

"This is ... OHHHHH..." Amy began to get emotional again as Dani Grace was in the middle of her very first meal. "She latched onto me RIGHT AWAY. Like, she had no issues, she just ... did it."

"This is amazing," I grinned.

"She has your ears," Amy swooned, looking down at her as she breast-fed. "You have a little M shape in your ears, Jeremy, and so does Dani Grace." She again kissed the top of her head. "I can't wait for you to meet your big brother and big sister, Kaden and Piper. Oh, Jeremy ... look at her eyes! She's just lookin' around, taking everything in."

"Probably wishing she was back inside of you!" I chuckled.

Kristanna and Pamela arrived shortly after 8:00am, and got to witness Dani Grace getting her very first bath, courtesy of the attending nurse. She was laying atop a bundle of towels at the very foot of the bed as all three ladies stood and openly fawned over her. The nurse applied soap and scrubbed Dani Grace with a sponge, then wrapped her up in warm blankets and took her over to the sink. She applied a light lather of shampoo to the red wisps of hair atop Dani Grace's head, then rinsed it off by holding her over running water.

"She is such a doll!" Amy sobbed once the bath was over, with Dani Grace back in her arms in bed. "Look at that little pink beanie hat they put on her head! Dani Grace laid on my chest for most of the night and I just, I rubbed her back and I snuggled her to me, and she just ... she LOVES me already."

"Hopefully she will learn to love me, too."

"Oh stop it, Jeremy! She already does."

"Dani Grace grabbed my finger earlier and I just started bawling," I admitted to Kristanna and Pamela.

"How cute was that!" Amy exclaimed. "She reached her tiny hand out and grabbed Jeremy's finger, and would not let go!"

"Oh, you are in Heaven, aren't you?" Pamela asked Amy.

"I just love laying here with Dani Grace," Amy nodded. "Skin to skin, layin', cuddlin', this is ... like, this is Heaven. Our family is Heaven to me, and I am so grateful for Dani Grace, and everything all of you have done for me. I ... I feel so lucky."

"We are grateful for you too, Amy," Kristanna purred, squeezing her wrist for emphasis.

"Who got you those?" Pamela wondered, pointing toward a bushel of red roses on the night stand next to the bed.

"Let me read the card again," Amy swooned, grabbing the filled vase and inspecting it. "It says ... to my sweet wife, I love you so much." Amy began sobbing once more as she continued reading, "I'm so proud of you, and I can't wait to raise our perfect daughter with you. Love, Jeremy."

"What an awesome husband we all have," Kristanna said to Amy, but wrapping her arm around me from the side and kissing my cheek. "Who would have ever thought in a million years that when Jeremy went on vacation to Cincinnati with Lindsay back in June, he would also seek out your parents and somehow convince them to come and be here for Dani Grace's birth?"

"I think I've talked more to my mom and dad this week than I have in the past 15 years combined," Amy remarked, dabbing at new-found tears with a tissue. "It was so special, so very wonderful, to have them here. I don't know how he did it. How did you do it, Jeremy?"

"We need to make sure that Robert and Kathleen have a firm spot in Dani Grace's life going forward," Pamela said.

"Oh, I think they will," Amy nodded.

Kristanna patted me on the shoulder. "But your own mom, Jeremy, opted not to come. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I assured her. "Mom wanted to stay home and not cause any ripples or trouble with the rest of the family, my brother and sister, by coming here. It's fine."

"No, it's not," Pamela frowned.

"My father is flying in from California and will be here tomorrow," I reminded them. "I'm really excited to see him, and for him to meet his new baby grand daughter."

"You hear that?" Amy whispered at Dani Grace, stroking her cheek with a thumb. "You get to meet your other pa-paw soon! Pa-paw Dale is flying 5,500 miles to say hello to you! I bet he wants to hug and kiss on you, too! Just like I do!"

Personally speaking, I could not have been more thrilled with how the day had gone. Everything about it had been so incredibly amazing. I cannot express just how proud, and how grateful, I was for Amy. She did such a great job from the very onset of her pregnancy, but especially today, and I felt fortunate and blessed to be able to call her my wife.

It was fun to look back and reflect on everything that had happened, but it was even better to think about all of the changes that were going to take place going forward. Our lives were forever changed because of Dani Grace, and we were excited, thrilled, and could not be more grateful. Truly, the best was yet to come.

"Well, I think for the last time tonight, I am going to ask you this one question, Amy," I said to her much later that evening, as she relaxed in her hospital bed and ate dinner. Salad and french fries? "How you doing?"

"I am doing wonderful," she simply responded. "I feel like a million bucks. Like, I have ... Dani Grace is just so beautiful! And I think one of the reasons why I feel so good is ... I was really nervous to feed her. I was thinking, you know, she was not gonna eat. But she ... the moment I tried, she latched on like a champ. And she has probably eaten every two hours since five o'clock this morning."




Island Fever 4: Paradise Ch. 20



"I feel so blessed right now because of our family." I reached out and squeezed Amy's hand. "I love you."

"I love you too, Jeremy. And I love our family. Our little baby girl was born perfectly healthy, with no complications whatsoever, and I get to take her home in two days! Mom and Dad came by for another visit, as did Devon and Scarlett." Amy splayed kisses along the crown of Dani Grace's head yet again. "And first thing in the morning, little sweetie pie, you get to meet big brother and big sister! Oh, I know you're looking forward to that! And Pa-paw Dale, too! You get to meet your daddy's daddy!"

Amy had waited so long for this day to finally come. I cannot even begin to express how happy I was for her. Amy had turned her life around in the two short years we had been together. She deserved all of this, and then some.

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On Wednesday, when Amy and Dani Grace were scheduled to be released from the hospital, I had a surprise waiting for my amazing wife at home. She and I were going to stay in bed and cuddle all day and all night long (with Dani Grace included, of course) while the other ladies waited on us hand and foot, and tended to our every need.

As I come to a conclusion on this chapter and the story itself, I realize that I better get used to hospital visits and new children being born because they were soon going to become quite commonplace for me. Not only were Trish and Lindsay each expecting their first child in February 2016, but Scarlett was five weeks pregnant now as well. So that means that when I wed Scarlett on March 11, 2016, she will be eight months pregnant. Wasn't that her plan all along? Scarlett wants to marry me in a maternity bridal gown because she knows how attracted I am to pregnant women.

And oh yeah, before I forget ... we had a little surprise on Kaden's birthday last Wednesday. Kristanna came home from the doctor with news that she was four weeks pregnant herself with her second child!

Our family keeps growing, and getting bigger! That's okay; it just means that there will be more for each of us to love.

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The End

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