Storiesonline.net
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                              Island Fever
                              by JeremyDCP

Copyright© 2012 by JeremyDCP


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Description: A group of beautiful, bi-sexual women spend six weeks alone together with one lucky man on a tropical island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. What more do you need to know?

Codes: MF FF Mult cons rom les bi D/S BD lght group
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Chapter 1: Paid Vacation


Finally, the time was at hand - the girls were arriving today! This past week was devoted to getting everything on the island ready for the six young ladies who would spend the upcoming six weeks here with me. I worked 20 hours per day getting the mansion ready, installing all of the wiring and video equipment, and finally stocking the supplies for the six women and yours truly with plenty left over to spare for emergencies. The supply boat would only come once a week, so if there was a massive storm or unforeseen disaster, we could potentially be stranded. With the reserves in place, however, we would not be stranded without an ample amount food and other necessities to easily tide us through. Thus, everything on the island was set to go.

Soon, it would be time to take the big boat to the mainland and pick the ladies up at the airport. I could hardly wait!

With their detailed biographies and several photographs archived on my computer server, I decided to take one final look at the collection of women before departing. They had been interviewed and screened extensively for what would happen over the upcoming six weeks. I did my best to get a nice variety of different looks and personalities. At the same time, though, my goal was for the girls to be compatible with not only me, but each other as well. Their individual profiles were a definite sight to behold on the computer.

All six of these women were chosen with the highest regard to physical appearance, brains and temperament. A great deal of time and money had been invested into this. A whole year of preparations were at stake, beginning with the thousands of flyers sent to health clubs and universities all across North America offering six weeks of relaxation and fun on the tropical island that I called home, and a cool, whopping payment of $100,000 (USD) at the end. One of these six women would receive something even more lucrative - $500,000 (USD).

The inquiries flooded in and then the applications. Going over them resulted in three-fourths being promptly rejected, but then it got much tougher. Requests for additional information, including photographs, were sent out and as a result, some of the applicants replied. The list was pared once again and then from there, the finalists were chosen subject to comprehensive background searches and, more importantly, one-on-one video conference interviews. From those 20 finalists, the super six were eventually chosen. Perhaps not surprisingly, those decisions certainly rank as some of the hardest that I have ever had to make in my life.

Who were these ladies? They ranged in age from 18 to 30, and all of them were bi-sexual or, at the very least, overly curious concerning other women. It was a requirement for acceptance. Obviously, it turned a lot of potentials away, but those were the only type of ladies that I was interested in bringing to the island. As for who each of them were...

A glorious, sexy melange of Spanish and Asian heritage, Camille was a buxom and charming 25-year-old who worked as a title processor for a real estate agency in the San Diego area. Camille had an incredible body, no doubt, but also the outgoing nature and friendly demeanor to match. Long, coal-black hair and dark, piercing eyes only added to her sensuous appeal. The luscious Latina still lived at home with her parents, but looked at these upcoming six weeks on the island as a way to really branch out in life and explore new possibilities. I was happy to afford her the chance.

The dancing queen of Baltimore, Pamela had made quite a nice living for herself in the fast-paced, frenzied world of adult entertainment. More specifically, Pamela (age 30) was a stripper. She certainly did not fit its usual stereotype, however. Pamela was perhaps the smartest, most intellectual person I had ever come across in my life. She was a proud, card-carrying member of _Mensa_ and ranked very high on the Dean's List at the Maryland university which she attended. Pamela was using her earnings as an exotic dancer to make it through college, with the goal of one day becoming a teacher.

Age 30 as well, Amy was employed as both a waitress and bartender at a Cincinnati restaurant. A red-headed ravisher who was much more than just a pretty face (and fantastic body), the first thing people invariably noticed about Amy was her astonishing beauty. And why not? It was difficult to miss. A creamy-skinned seductress with emerald green eyes and all-natural 36d-25-36 measurements that were nicely packed onto her 5-foot-6 frame, Amy was the type of woman who got noticed everywhere she went simply because of her physical characteristics alone. An extremely flirtatious and aggressive individual, Amy welcomed (and craved) all of the lustful attention that was continually heaped upon her.

But like everyone else, Amy had her shortcomings. She had been through a failed marriage and seemed to take immense pride in exuding a _bad girl_ persona. In fact, Amy cheated on her ex-husband with four different guys in their first year of marriage, and then more in the third (and final).

Still, I got the feeling from our telephone conversations that Amy was a good and sincere person. She had made some very misguided and wayward decisions in her life - no doubt - but there was something about Amy which drew me to her, and piqued my interest. I believed if she were to find the right man, Amy would finally settle down and turn out to be the ideal, picture-perfect (and faithful) wife. Could that elusive _right man_ ultimately turn out to be yours truly?

A true, quintessential All-American girl, Devon was apple pie, soft blue eyes and warm summer nights on the front porch swing. The 27-year-old had a spellbinding face and shiny, long blonde hair, a taut, shapely figure, flawless skin and an upbeat, lively attitude. With all of these positive attributes, as well as a personable and gregarious nature, how could anyone _not_ find a lady such as Devon appealing?

In fact, I got the impression during our initial telephone discussion - and nothing had changed my mind since - that Devon was a true, bona-fide princess. Her squealy voice and infectious personality had warmed my heart, and made me feel good inside. Also during those same conversations, I came to the conclusion that there was a good, genuine quality about Devon. What exactly _was_ genuine, I was not sure of at this point in time. But I had six whole weeks to find out...

Trish was a marvelous, captivating young lady with lush brown eyes, long, yellow-blonde hair and the type of bright, pearly-white smile often seen in toothpaste advertisements. Trish's natural beauty was all-encompassing - from the toes on her feet all the way up through a 5-foot-4 frame of toned, busty flesh, to the very crown of her pretty head.

Trish was the only woman of the group who did not reside in the United States. She was a born-and-bred Canadian who had spent all of her life in and around Toronto. Trish was a physical fitness enthusiast who found work as an instructor at a health club in her hometown. This 30-year-old was full of the sweetness and sunshine that made everyone around her feel as if they had just met a new friend. Trish was the type of woman that good things always seemed to happen to, simply because she was such a warm-hearted, friendly person.

Trish's dream in life, aside from getting married and having a family, was to own a fitness center. Perhaps the money that I was paying her for spending these six weeks here would help make that dream a reality for her? Or maybe I would assist in helping Trish's ultimate dream come true? That being, of course, the aspiration of one day finding a husband and having children with him. Could that man be me?

Last but certainly not least was Lindsay, a deliriously beautiful 18-year-old who just graduated from high school three days ago. Lindsay was a total vision of loveliness who seemed entirely too sweet and innocent to get involved in a naughty project such as the one that I was presenting. Nevertheless, I gladly welcomed Lindsay, along with her very ripe and nubile 34c-22-32 figure, into my midst.

With long-flowing blonde hair, blue eyes and the face of a cosmetics model, Lindsay was the embodiment of everything that a cheerleader should be. She was the captain of the squad while attending high school in Ohio and, I am certain, brought a great deal of _team spirit_ to the mix. I would also wager that Lindsay had invoked a lot of vivid fantasies and desires for others while shaking that little cheerleader ass of hers, too. She definitely would have for me! Oh ... just the mere idea really seems to get me going.

All six of these women were bi-sexual, beautiful and very unique, but in their own special way. My upcoming sabbatical with them promised some fireworks as the group of charming ladies began to compete for the grand payout of $500,000.

The catch, however, was that none of them knew what the criteria for winning the big prize was. I was not about to clue them in, either. All they knew and all they would be told was that six weeks from now, one of them would receive a cashier's check for $500,000. The remaining five would also receive a cashier's check, but for $100,000. The process for choosing who got the big payout would remain a mystery until the end. I felt as if this was really the only way to go.

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A brief 30 minutes after I had arrived at the airport on the mainland, the jetliner approached and touched down. I watched it taxi to the terminal building and stop 50 feet short. A few moments later, the plane rolled forward until it reached the gate. There were about 200 passengers aboard, but six of them belonged to me. My body started to tingle as droves of travelers began filing out into the airport gate. All of the hard work, the preparations, the countless hours and restless nights over the past year for this one, exact moment ... I could not believe that it was finally here!

It was quite easy to pick out which of the passengers were guests of mine. All I had to do was pay attention to the twitching of my cock - it had an excellent memory of all of the photographs and profiles saved on the computer server back on the island. Fortunately for me, I had on a pair of casual, loose-fitting shorts!

As the travelers exited the airline, I held up a sign to let the six girls know that I was here to greet them. In two minutes, the whole group was standing around me in a semi-circle. They were even more beautiful in person!

"Welcome ladies," I announced to them. "My name is Jeremy and I shall be your host for the next six weeks. We'll have your luggage taken to the boat and then we shall then head for our island paradise retreat. Are there any questions?"

"How about we stop and get something to eat, eh? I do not know about everyone else, but I'm absolutely STARVING! All there was to eat on the plane was little snack boxes."

My mind flashed through the several photographs/profiles and tried to put a name with the face. "Sure ... Trish, isn't it?" Yes, Trish ... I said to myself. I actually came to that conclusion not because I had placed her name with any of her photographs (or even the video conference we once shared), but because of the ripe Canadian flavor in Trish's voice (the _eh_ gave it away). "There is plenty of food and refreshments on the big boat," I added, my focus locked onto the beautiful, breathtaking blonde from Toronto. "You will have all you can eat there, and I promise it will be much more appetizing than your typical airline box snack."

Several of the girls laughed as Trish rubbed her flat, toned stomach with a hopeful expression on her enchanting face. She must have really been hungry, I told myself.

Wanting to soothe those pains, I quickly headed for the exit to the terminal building and the group followed in tow. I could tell that the ladies had already developed some friendships as they got to know one another on the _long_ airline flight here from Miami, Florida. They were bound to find each other - since all of them were instructed to wear black wristbands around their right elbow. Not only that, but their seats were all grouped together on the airline as well. It had been my plan for them to develop friendships on the flight. Now, I realized that it worked. I could not be more happier because of this, too...

All of the ladies and yours truly hopped into the private bus that I had previously arranged for, and we were promptly whisked across town to the marina. Once their luggage was stowed away, the group boarded the big boat with me - a 72 foot, high-speed _Teknicraft Catamaran Excursion Cruiser_ - and we immediately set sail for our destination. Since the capacity for this vessel - aptly dubbed by myself as the _Pussywillow Express_ (for obvious, clear-cut reasons!) - was 172 passengers, there was an ample amount of room for everyone to kick back, relax and feel comfortable.

During the cruise, a couple of the ladies had gathered in the lower cabin, where they relaxed while lightly snacking and sipping some refreshments (the hungry Trish included, of course). The remaining ladies were all assembled on the top deck of the boat, getting an early start with their suntans. The respective conversations between both groups had become quite friendly and animated; everyone was having a wonderful time. That made me feel even better. Needless to say, I was aiming for a very peaceful co-existence for the seven (and eventually nine) of us over the course of the next six weeks. That was a very tall order, indeed, but it was my goal.

Past the barrier reef, the waves became larger and some of the ladies squealed with delight at the roller coaster ride, while others held on tight, looking scared and pale. Lindsay, the 18-year-old from Ohio, seemed to be having the most difficulty during the choppy water phase of our voyage. But a big bowl of vanilla ice cream (topped with sprinkles and chocolate syrup, of course), as well as words of healthy support from Trish and Devon, seemed to help settle and soothe Lindsay's jaggled nerves. Still, the girl was having problems and would probably be happier than anyone else once we finally reached landfall. Clearly, Lindsay had never been on a long ocean cruise - four hours - like this before.

Add all of those thousands of miles Lindsay spent flying in the air earlier today to the bumpy boat ride, and I believe that it would be safe to assume that she was feeling a bit nauseated right now. Concerned for her, I promised Lindsay that we would reach our island destination soon.

And sure enough, we did.

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With layers of clouds trickled here-and-there, the sky surrounding the setting sun on this breezy June evening was a brilliant, tropical shade of orange as the catamaran made its final approach toward the island. All six of the ladies were gathered together upon the top deck of the boat, so they could take in the wondrous, untamed beauty of the island. The general consensus among them was a sense of sheer awe.

I have held steadfast in the belief since day one that anyone would be hard-pressed to find a more beautiful, picturesque location in the entire world than the private island which I had considered home for the past 16 years.

Located 130 miles away from the coastal city of Lima, Peru (South America), the island was literally a virgin territory. With the exception of the large mansion, outdoor recreation complex, horse stables and access roads which encircled it, the island was basically the same as God had created it. That, of course, was the way it should be.

The few people who visited my little corner of paradise over the past 16 years fell in love with the dramatic views, the tropical fusion of stars at night and the chance to be alone with the elements. Here one found palm-fringed blue lagoons, a lush rain forest, hidden gardens, cascading waterfalls and a wild river running between two canyons. And those beautiful beaches - gold, red, black and green sands - were caressed by an endless, peaceful surf.

The putt-putt golf course, located in the recreation area next to the mansion, had an intricate (and very unique) design which appealed to even novice players. Alternative forms of outdoor entertainment included horseback riding in the forest, scuba diving off the coast, or taking the _Jeep_ for the day and paving one's own course through the wilderness. This island was, without question, a true paradise.

The stirring of my cock reminded me to keep my mind on the task at hand, or run the definite risk of foundering on the barrier reef. I quickly steered the large boat into the opening of the reef left by the fresh water pouring into the ocean at that spot, and docked at the pier.

"Ladies, we have arrived. There are also food and drinks at the mansion. Please leave your luggage here on the boat. We can come back later and pick the bags up with the _Jeep_. No use carrying the luggage all the way to the mansion."

They all seemed in agreement. After I secured the boat, the girls jumped out and we headed up the narrow path to the main house some 2,000 feet away. The last 100 were steps which had been laid with slabs of volcanic rock. The estate, a Mediterranean-style villa, greeted us with its wide-open design which allowed the sea breezes to easily pass through and carry the scent of flowers and the fresh, tropical air.

At the front entry, several of my lovely female guests turned their attention toward the center peak of the home. This was where, at a two- and three-story height, etched glass front doors and windows depicted the sea at the bottom and birds in the sky at the top. Outside colors, I should mention, were peach and aqua, which (in my opinion) enhanced the serenity and tranquil ambiance that prevailed here. But the outside of the estate, although beautiful, did not even begin to tell the story about what awaited indoors.

Stepping inside, the ladies were immediately stunned by the eye-catching assortment of interesting and entertaining details. To help create and maintain a sense of warmth in a residence this large, there was an abundance of visual stimuli. Everywhere there was something to see, something going on, something intriguing.

Inside the front room was a circular wet bar sculpted with a rich, blue granite countertop. Several panels of beveled mirror wrapped around the bar and reflected the creamy-toned marble floor outlined in sheer, black granite.

Beyond the bar was the rear wall of glass doors which opened to a reflection pond. In the center of the pond were two volcano-like apparatus structures which erupted with fire under the control of the home's automation system. The automated computer system included 30 miles of wiring which controlled all of the home's lighting, climate settings, music and security. At the touch of many LCD panels located throughout, music by way of CD/MP3 or satellite station could be played in any zone of the estate.

Views from inside the front doorway also included the tropical forest and the infinity-edge swimming pool which seemingly emptied out into the Pacific in the distance. Additionally, the backyard included waterfalls, pools and rock fountains surrounded by lush, abundant landscaping.

Ahead and off to the left of the bar area was an informal eating nook that was nestled in a corner beside the glass windows and doors for maximum views of the outdoors. To preserve these views from nearby areas, the nook featured an all-glass table with acrylic chairs. Solid furniture would have obstructed the view and distracted from the openness.

Adjacent from the nook was the kitchen. A chef's dream, this kitchen contained two of each major appliance, and a trio of dishwashers. One of them was a huge machine that featured a conveyer belt for the cleaning and drying of the dishes. Cabinetry was maple with black granite countertops and backsplashes to contrast the light colors of the walls. The design of the ceiling mimicked the shape of the island and breakfast bar cabinetry. In the dining room, the dark wicker chairs and wooden table (large enough to comfortably seat 15) made an elegant statement without being too flashy.

The living room was seen from the dining room through an archway. There, the fireplace of French marble rose more than 20 feet and was framed by sweeping panels of mirrors. Glass doors revealed the awesome view of the pools and rock fountains against the backdrop of the lush forest.

Needless to say, the ladies were captivated as I took them on the whirlwind tour. Trish made the comment that she believed houses like this only existed in the movies, while Lindsay said that this was definitely nothing like the Ohio residence she had grown up on during all of her 18 years.

Before reaching the master suite, one would have to pass through the anteroom where the _glass wall_ was showcased. Weighing a full two tons, the nine-foot-wide curving wall was 3,000 feet of 1/4-inch plate glass layered and secured into place. Over 1,000 fiber optic strands were inserted when the glass was installed. Those fiber optic strands produced dazzling, brilliant beams of light of 56 different patterns.

The ceiling here was also a work of art, consisting of four fiberglass sections forming a dome that was painted to resemble the evening sky and then illuminated with fiber optic lights to twinkle like bright stars. A medallion on the floor also reflected the changing colors of light.

The opposite wing of the mansion included a hobby room, shower room, ten guest suites with restrooms, the home office and an _OmniMAX_ movie theater. The walk, 200 feet in length from one wing to the other, was entertaining.

One of my favorite features was the wall of electronic art located just before arriving at the huge office. Three abstractly-configured, etched glass frames contained flat screen studio monitors for digital art. Thousands of digital photographs were stored in computers that drove the screens. The automation system could randomly sequence the pictures, or change them after a sensor detected someone passing by. Either way, the digital art was unique and provided an interesting and ever-changing variety of images.

Beyond the hobby room was a spiral staircase that led to a rooftop garden overlooking the main pool and tennis court. An elevator descended to the below-ground recreation room, which included a variety of slot and pinball machines with bubblers, arcade games and neon lights above. I even had a _PlayStation 3_, _X-Box_, _X-Box 360_ and three _Alienware_ computers with Internet access available. The bright colors of the carpet throughout added to the overall sense of fun that I wanted the recreation room to portray to others.

After doubling back to the main entrance, I turned and smiled at the lovely collection of ladies. "This is as much your home for the upcoming six weeks as it is mine. I want you to explore and dabble in everything that there is to do here. The only place that is strictly off-limits to you, without getting permission first, is my own bedroom. No one is allowed in there without knocking first. Please, now ... can everyone agree with that?" Nods all around...

"There is so much that I want to do here!" Trish squealed, obviously full of excitement. "I want to try the recreation room where all those games and pool tables are. But I also want to go swimming in that beautiful pool outside. I want to play putt-putt golf and watch movies in that theater! I wanna go to the beach, too! Think how awesome it must be!" Indeed, Trish was literally bubbling over with enthusiasm.

"I could go for in a good dip in the pool," Pamela mused. "It felt so humid and dry outside."

I smiled at her. "Another thing all of you will like is that each guest suite comes with its own personal climate conditioning system. Just type whatever temperature you want on the wall panel, and you're set. It ranges from 50 to 85 degrees Fahrenheit. The change is almost instantaneous. It is the best climate conditioning system money can buy."

"50?" Devon gushed. "I don't think we want it THAT low."

"My brother, Eduardo, keeps his house around 60 degrees in the summer," Camille complained. "I'm always cold there. He does it because of his allergies. Whenever I visit him, I sit outside more often than not. I'm basically forced to. It feels like an arctic freeze inside his house."

"I would sit outside if I were you, too," Trish offered. "Isn't the weather in San Diego gorgeous year-round, eh? I would doubt there is even a need for an air conditioner."

"I bet there is plenty more to see in this mansion," Amy said, looking my way. "You didn't show us everything..."

I shook my head at her. "No, I didn't. But I will in due time. Feel free to branch out and explore on your own. You may go anywhere except my private suite. As I think about it, Louisa's room is off-limits, too. But I see no reason why you would want to go into her suite. She is our cook and housekeeper, and is 76 years of age."

Pamela glanced about in all different directions. "The guy who owns the strip club where I work has a mansion sort of like this. I say SORT OF because this place is so much better. He throws holiday parties for us there every year. I must say that this house is a hundred times bigger, too."

"And a million times more impressive, I'd wager," Trish chimed in. Excellent, I told myself. Clearly, all of my esteemed guests were in love with the house and everything that it had to offer. Especially Trish. I felt relieved.

"Where can a girl get something to drink around here?" Amy asked, obviously referring to alcohol.

I pointed toward the circular wet bar located on the other side of the front room. "You will find plenty of whatever you need behind the counter there. It is well stocked-up."

Amy smiled in delight, then sashayed off toward the bar. Camille followed her. Swish swish, wiggle wiggle ... it sure was a sight to admire the lush, rounded backsides of Amy and Camille as they made their way over to the bar. I found myself temporarily mesmerized by the wondrous view.

"I'm too young to drink," Lindsay pouted, looking at me. Oh dear Lord, I said inwardly, Lindsay was a complete and total doll. She looked incredibly sexy with that tiny pout on her beautiful, unblemished face as well. Lindsay was too young to drink? Oh ... poor baby. I felt like wrapping my arms around that hot, little body of hers and telling her that everything would be alright. What a sweetheart!...

"It's okay," Trish said, slipping an arm around Lindsay's shoulder. "You don't need any of that nasty stuff anyway."

Lindsay offered a very shy, somewhat embarrassed smile the very instant Trish wrapped that arm around her shoulder. The 18-year-old's humble and innocent nature seemed out of place amongst her older and more seasoned counterparts here (none more so than me, to be perfectly honest).

One of my early priorities would be to get Lindsay to open up to us over the coming days and weeks. Being a sheltered girl from Ohio, with devout religious beliefs, who just graduated from high school three days ago, everything here may have been too much for Lindsay to digest all at once. The situation was not helped by the fact that she was also away from her family for the first time ever in her life.

Perhaps I was wrong - it has happened many times before, of course - but I got the sense that Lindsay seemed somewhat intimidated by all of the things that were happening around her thus far. With her humble upbringing thus far in life, one could definitely understand why. Over time, I hoped to help bring Lindsay out of that apparent life-long shell. The others would have to play an important role in that, too.

"Alcohol is bad for you," Trish added, slowly guiding Lindsay away. "Trust me, sweetheart. You don't ever need to get started on alcohol. All it does is lead to bad things down the road." Lindsay nodded her head as Trish chirped, "Let's go into the kitchen and see if we can find something decent for you to drink, like some orange juice. My own personal favorite is _Kool-Aid_." Trish glanced at me for a moment before telling Lindsay, "Jeremy promised me a few weeks back, when I was talking to him on webcam, that he would have plenty of _Kool-Aid_ on hand for me."

"I do not think you will be disappointed," I assured her.

"There is nothing wrong with getting started on alcohol," Amy commented, taking a sip of wine. Thankfully, she seemed pleased with its taste. That gave me yet another sense of relief, too. Obviously, I wanted everything on the island to be perfect. The only way that would be possible is if all of the ladies were happy and content with what was offered here. What kind of host would I be otherwise?

Camille nodded her head, seemingly in agreement with Amy about the prospects of drinking alcohol. With Trish and Lindsay now safely out of earshot, Amy promptly continued, "It does not lead to bad things down the road, either. Like anything else, that only happens when the alcohol becomes an addiction that spirals out of control. Just don't let that happen to you, though, and there will be no problems." Amy grinned and added in a most devious tone of voice, "I would _LOVE_ to get Lindsay totally drunk someday very soon!"

Although I could not tell if Amy was serious with what she had just said or was merely joking around, I narrowed my eyes in displeasure at her regardless. Needless to say, I did not like or approve of that particular comment.

"Lindsay is too young and impressionable to be forced or coerced into anything," Pamela surmised, looking at Amy with a disapproving glare. "I hope you were kidding with what you just said, Amy. If Lindsay wants to try alcohol, let her do it on her own terms. She does not need someone to get her drunk, no matter if it would be a thrill to you or not."

Good, I said to myself. There was at least one person here - Pamela - who felt the same, exact way I did. Even better, someone else took objection to Amy's words as well.

"Lindsay is a baby compared to the rest of us," Devon chimed in. "We are all ages 25 to 30. She is 18. Not only that, but the girl seems so incredibly shy and apprehensive about everything here. I just think that it is plain wrong to talk about her that way, Amy. Just plain wrong. Come to think of it, three of us are 30, and I am 27. There is a 10 plus year age difference between Lindsay and four of the five other girls she is with now. That must be awkward for her."

"If I got Lindsay drunk, it would help loosen her up."

Pamela tilted her head and shot Amy quite the evil eye. "Stop it! It is wrong to even think something like that."

Amy snickered at the reaction she was getting from Devon and Pamela. She added fuel to the fire by chortling, "You know my motto in life? Screw milk ... vodka does a body good! Given the chance, Lindsay would think the same, exact way."

Devon frowned and shook her head at Amy. "You better be glad that Trish is in the kitchen right now with Lindsay. If Trish heard you say these things, Amy, she would be most unhappy. Trish really likes Lindsay, you know."

"And has nothing but Lindsay's best interests in mind," Pamela nodded, her arms folded across her front. "I can guarantee you that Trish does not have a selfish thought at all when it comes to Lindsay. Not one selfish thought."

"Oh ... settle down!" Amy squealed, flicking her wrist toward Pamela and Devon. "I was only kidding..."

"Really?" Devon asked, obviously skeptical.

"Trish wants a piece of Lindsay's ass just like the rest of us," Camille quipped. "All Trish cares about is getting her clutches into that little, teen ass."

"Not true!" Devon angrily huffed, upset with those words. "Trish really, truly does care about Lindsay. Didn't you see how she treated her on the boat ride from Peru?"

Camille did not concur. "What I saw was Trish's eyes ravaging Lindsay's body at every single opportunity."

"You did not!" Devon shot back.

Amy let loose with an evil snicker. "Trish is really no different than the rest of us. She wants to stick her nose as far up Lindsay's ass as it will go. That is probably what she is working toward right now in the kitchen by being so nice and friendly toward her. Come on ... admit it."

"Amy!" Devon gasped, taken off-guard.

Camille licked her lips and clearly agreed with Amy's wicked mindset. "Now THAT sounds like a good idea!"

Amy smiled. "I bet Trish is wanting to strap one on, and take that little 100 pound body - or however much Lindsay weighs - and split her like a wishbone. Snap her in half!"

Pamela frowned and shook her head. "All this crude talk and thinking; I thought I left the strip club behind me. This was supposedly a vacation for me, not more of the same."

"You are one sick and twisted freak, Amy."

"I know," she told Devon, laughing. "And I love it!"

Since it seemed as if this discussion had the potential to turn into a heated argument, I decided to put an end to it before things got that far. "Settle down, ladies. I am sure that all of you are a bit irritable and cranky after all those airline miles today, but there is absolutely no need for raising your voice. Take a step back and relax. There are plenty of drinks behind the counter where Amy and Camille are. In the walk-in cooler, in the kitchen, you will find a wide variety of orange juice, soda products, milk and punch. Everything here is for all of you to enjoy. Why not get something to drink and settle down ... relax?"

"Alcohol and I simply do not mix any more," Devon told us. "I could go for a tall glass of orange juice, though." With that, Devon turned and then made her way into the kitchen.

"I could go for a tall glass of Lindsay," Amy mumbled, although I could make out what she said. She finished off her glass of expensive wine and mused, "Or just a shot..."

"You better stop talking like that," Pamela warned Amy, obviously having heard and understood her words as well.

I simply looked at Amy and shook my head. She was clearly a very out-spoken and blunt - almost gruff - type of person. Amy needed to use a lot more tact when choosing her words. What if Trish, who seemed overly protective of Lindsay thus far, had heard all of these naughty things Amy was saying? Well trained in kickboxing, the athletic Trish may very well take it upon herself to boot Amy into next week. The last thing I wanted was any sort of altercation between the girls.

Moving onto better subjects, I should mention that Louisa, the elderly housekeeper, had set up a large table with baskets of fruit in the dining room with a wide selection of snacks, including a variety of smoked fish, breads and cheeses.

"Soon," I told the ladies, "we'll get your suitcases, then your room assignments. I see that most of you have already made friends, so if you find someone you want to share a room with, let me know. If not, you'll room with someone of my choosing for now, but you can always pick someone else later. Your comfort is my number-one priority."

The ladies ate and drank, chatted and got acquainted. About an hour later, when everyone seemed to have settled down and found a room-mate, I asked for two volunteers to help me with getting the luggage. Devon and Camille were quick to offer their services, so I took them to the main carport and the three of us hopped into the _Jeep_. Driving to the dock was much longer in distance than walking to it, but the amount of time was basically the same.

In a few minutes, Devon, Camille and I had the luggage loaded into the trailer that was attached to the _Jeep_, and we were on our way back up to the mansion. Once there, all of the girls pulled their suitcases off of the trailer and quickly headed for their respective rooms. Before they left, however, I reminded them that the big reception party was at 9:00pm tonight. Everyone had to attend. It was to happen two hours later than our standard time for dinner of 7:00pm each night. Once I made those two points perfectly clear to them, I decided to head off toward my own suite.

-------

To the right of the anteroom was the master bedroom. My own personal haven, the domed ceiling detail above the bed incorporated 100 fiber optic stars which twinkled in the dark. The illusion was that a seven foot opening had been carved through the roof to reveal the evening sky. It had fooled the vast majority of those who had been here at night. They wondered why there was such a _big hole_ in the roof. My youngest niece once asked if a meteorite had struck here!

With a single touch of the automated system, an eight foot wide screen slowly dropped from the ceiling directly in front of the bed. At the same time, the lights dimmed, any music playing ceased, and the bedroom was suddenly transformed into a nighttime theater. One had a choice of high-definition television or DVD playback for the big screen.

Across from the bed was a sitting area that was stepped up from the rest of the room. This large space included a desk on one side next to a window with a full view of the outdoors and, on the opposite side, a morning kitchen with a small refrigerator, sink, counter space and bar.

The master bath was to the left side of the anteroom. A whirlpool spa was positioned here to maximize the view of the scenic south beach in the distance. Sunk into a black granite surface, the tub offered side-by-side seating to enjoy the outdoor scenery or a DVD movie on the flat panel screen in the wall beside the bath. The ceiling overhead featured a painted tropical sky with its orange hue dabbed with wispy clouds. The floor was heated to alleviate any cold chills after stepping out of the spa.

But my destination at this moment in time was completely sealed from all other areas of the mansion. Its entrance was behind an ordinary wall panel within my private suite that gave no indication that it was hiding anything.

To access it, I had to punch in a detailed security code on the suite's LCD panel. Once doing so, the computer asked for voice verification. Then, after saying my name out loud, the wall opened and suddenly, the secret room was revealed.

Inside, I flipped a metal switch and the wall slid back to its former place. There were a large spread of television monitors, each of which surveyed different places both in and around the mansion. I had hidden cameras - large and small alike - scattered everywhere on the island. There was literally no place that one of my cameras would not pick up.

With all activities being recorded and archived into the computer (the lone exception being the housekeeper's private quarters), I could also re-live anything which took place over the next six weeks with just a couple of keystrokes. The cameras were linked to motion detectors (also hidden) and when activated, the screens instantly came to life.

Yes - I had built myself quite the voyeur room. With the help of a _Hewlett Packard AlphaServer GS1280_ (series 64) computer system and a large satellite dish next to the garden on the roof, I could see any part of the island at any time. That included, of course, my lovely female guests in their private moments. Over the next six weeks, this voyeur room would obviously be a favorite spot of mine.

For now, I decided to focus all of my attention onto the second guest suite - which Pamela and Amy were occupying. Pamela was seated at the circular table, casually reading a fashion magazine, while Amy was up and about, chatting away. Curious, I decided to turn the room's hidden microphone on. It was time for me to do some (innocent) eavesdropping. Hopefully, their debate about Lindsay and alcohol was over.

"I cannot believe that I have been up since three o'clock this morning," Amy commented, glancing at her wristwatch for a brief instant. "I tried to get some sleep on the flight from Cincinnati to Miami, but I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I could not fall asleep. I don't like airplanes."

Pamela smirked. "I know exactly what you mean. What time did your flight leave Cincinnati this morning?"

"5:30," Amy replied. "Five-freaking-thirty. Still, even at such an unholy hour, the airport was buzzing. It was busy. The plane touched down in Miami around 8:10 and then I boarded the connector to Lima at 8:45 just in time. I was worried about my luggage, but everything turned out okay. I worried the whole flight if my bags made it onto the plane."

"I slept on the flight from Baltimore to Miami myself," Pamela told her. "It left around 5:50 and landed at 8:25. It was the only sleep that I've had in awhile. Believe it or not, but I worked last night until four in the morning. I worked from five until four o'clock... 11 hours."

"You're a stripper, right?" Amy asked, to which Pamela nodded her head in affirmative. "Wow. You must be tired. Even with that little nap from Baltimore to Miami, you must be exhausted. Work 11 hours straight and then get on a plane. I could never do that and survive."

"I hate working Sunday nights," Pamela pouted. "I should have stayed home. Sunday is _buy one lap dance get one free night_ ... I do twice the work I normally do, but make much less money. But I wanted to get one more night of work in before I left. I also wanted to say goodbye to my friends. They wanted to say goodbye to me, too."

"Do you actually like being a stripper?"

Pamela pursed her lips together and shrugged her shoulders. "Ehhhhh ... it has its ups and downs. The money is great and I get to set my own schedule, work my own hours. I have been working at the club for over 11 years, so I have seniority over all of the other girls. They all call me the mother hen of the place." Pamela took a deep breath and sighed. "When I started working there at age 19, though, I surely never thought that I would still be dancing at 30. It has been a really, really long ride ... I have seen every imaginable."

"Have any plans for when you decide to quit?"

"I am going to college, have been for awhile actually, and when I finally graduate I want to become a schoolteacher," Pamela answered. "I have loved working with and being around children all of my life. Unfortunately, though, I think the past 11 years working as an exotic dancer will come back to haunt me. No school would ever hire a former stripper ... but I am going to get that degree anyway. I promised myself. I also promised my sister and the rest of my family."

"I never went to college myself," Amy offered. "At the moment, I am a _Hooters_ girl." Pamela seemed intrigued by those words as Amy went on, "Yep ... I have been working for _Hooters_ for the past two years as a bartender and waitress. I enjoy it. It's a good, fun atmosphere. I basically flirt with everyone that I come into contact with, and they flirt with me back. Management actually encourages it."

Pamela grinned leisurely. "I bet you look real good in a little _Hooters_ top and those orange shorts ... don't you?"

Amy smiled as well, but chose not to respond directly. "You know, I think our jobs are very similar in certain ways. You a stripper, me a _Hooters_ girl. Very similar."

"Oh? How so? Aside from the constant flirtation?"

"I think you, like me, would have to remember names and faces, and what everyone says. Customers, you know. I have so many regulars who come in and tell me their problems when I am working behind the bar ... whether it be life, dating, marriage, money, whatever. If I can remember their name and face, and whatever they say to me, I can pick right up with the conversation the next time they come in. A couple of days, a week ... sometimes even a month later. You would be amazed at the tips some of my customers leave for me when I am bartending. It is because I am so responsive to them."

"Oh yeah," Pamela agreed. "I remember everyone that I've given lap dances to. If I remember them and say something like, you were here a month ago and I danced for you three times, it makes them feel special. Everyone likes being remembered. It typically translates into more money and tipping for me as well. That is a big part of what I do. I make it a point to remember everyone that I dance for. I never, EVER forget a face. I would lose money if I did."

"Exactly," Amy mused. "That is why I say our jobs are similar in certain ways. The better our memories, the more money we make. I get a lot of tips from simply listening to others, lending a sympathetic ear. People like to talk about their problems. It makes them feel better. I am more than willing to stop and talk with a customer for a minute or two even if the restaurant is incredibly busy."

"Do you like that part of your job?"

"Yeah, I do," Amy answered. "I am really outgoing and will talk about anything with anyone. I don't mind listening to people talk about their problems. I like it, really, because I'm good at giving advice." She giggled and added, "Maybe one day I can have my own newspaper column. Doctor Amy ... the best source of advice for all of Cincinnati!"

"What do you think of this place thus far?" Pamela asked.

"The island is so beautiful!" Amy gushed. "I cannot wait to explore and find all the hidden places. Think we'll get to do that? How about we ask at dinner tonight? Want to?"

Pamela smiled softly and replied, "Sure, we can do that."

"Boy, I want to take a shower!" Amy exclaimed. "That long airline flight, from Cincinnati to Miami, then all the way to South America ... I need a shower, real bad. Want to take one? I saw a bunch of towels in the closet. There's some other stuff in there, too. Like some colored sheets, or something. Have any idea what they are?"

"Those are to dress in, like the natives," Pamela mused. "They are called pereos." Wow, I said inwardly. Pamela was sharp. I was surprised that Pamela knew what a pereo was - considering that she was a life-long resident of Maryland. Then again, I told myself, Pamela was a member of _Mensa_. That was, of course, the organization for those people with ridiculously high IQ ratings. Her mind, she once told me in a previous telephone discussion, was like a sponge. Pamela wanted to soak up all of the information about everything that she possibly could. Clearly, this woman was not your stereotypical exotic dancer. No way at all.

"Oh, neat," Amy responded. "Natives wear pereos? Maybe we should dress up in them? What do you think?"

Pamela thumbed through a few more pages of the magazine before setting it down on the table. "Maybe we can, later. First, we have to figure out how to put them on."

"Everything about this place - the island, the concept, Jeremy and all of the other girls - everything seems like a complete fairy tale to me. I ... I cannot believe that I am actually here, right now. I just cannot believe it. I ... I don't think I ever want to leave!"

"What do you mean?" Pamela wondered.

"This is what I have always dreamed of," Amy answered. "I've always wanted to go to someplace like Hawaii or the Bahamas. This island, from the little of it I've seen thus far, can stand up to either of those places. I have always wondered what it would be like in a multi-million dollar mansion. All of the other girls here are so beautiful, and so nice. Then there is Jeremy. I ... I'm just so excited! It's like all of my dreams are coming true at once!"

I should point out that this particular side of Amy was quite appealing to me. Unlike earlier, when she made the comments about wanting to get Lindsay drunk, Amy did not seem cold and abrasive at all. In fact, she seemed very likable.

Then again, I said to myself, the personality profiler on my computer predicted that Amy would be prone to extreme mood changes. Those mood changes, the program surmised, would not necessarily have to be triggered by a certain event, either. But most troubling of all, the software suggested - judging by her responses on the long questionnaire - Amy may very well suffer from _Cyclothymic Personality Disorder_. That, I am afraid, will be touched upon later in the story.

"Speaking of Jeremy," Pamela said, looking over at her new friend, "do you have any idea how one of us is going to get paid $500,000? The information packet I got said we were all going to be paid $100,000 each, except one. That one gets $500,000. Have any ideas on how we get that big money?"

Amy giggled and replied, "It will probably be the girl who gives him the best fuck." She laughed again, while Pamela looked at her with a surprised expression. It was obvious that Pamela did not expect Amy to use such brash language.

"What?" Amy snickered. "It's the truth. The packet made it very clear that we were going to be used as sex objects this summer." I frowned at those words, not agreeing with them in the slightest, as Amy kept talking, "The $500,000 prize will probably go to the girl who fucks him the best. In fact, I guarantee it. What else could it be?"

Pamela shook her head and laughed in mock disgust. "I do say, you're terrible, Amy!" She paused and added, "But then again, you may be correct. You probably are."

"No..." I moaned at those words, momentarily hurt by them. That was not going to be the case at all!

"I could use a half-million," Amy remarked. "All I know is that I am going to do EVERYTHING that Jeremy tells me. Obey, obey, obey. Hopefully, I'll get that money."

"If I get the 500-K ... then great," Pamela told her. "But if I don't, I'll gladly take the $100,000 instead. I could use it toward tuition, and a new car. I really need one."

Amy made a face. "You're a stripper, girl. You probably made _$200,000_ last year alone. You need a new car?"

The 30-year-old laughed. "I've held onto the Pamelamobile for too long. It's time to finally let go. The Pamelamobile is actually a _BMW_. I have been looking into buying a brand new _Lotus Elise_. I think that they look really neat."

"I have a 1999 _Saturn SL2_," Amy said. "I would like to buy a new car myself, I guess. I am kind of partial to the 2013 _Chevrolet Camaro_. I like them. I could never afford one until coming to this island. You know, one decked out with lots and lots of goodies. But getting back to what I was saying, when we get the chance, let's ask Jeremy how we get the big money. He probably won't tell us, but maybe we can sneak it out of him. You know ... trick him."

Pamela shrugged her shoulders and countered, "Jeremy does not seem to be the type of person who can easily be tricked. I could be wrong, but I do not think so."

"I used to be able to trick and fool my ex-husband all of the time," Amy confided. "Until he finally smartened up."

"You were married?"

"Yes," Amy nodded. "His name was Eddie. He was black." Amy waited to see if Pamela would have any type of reaction to that little tidbit of information - positive, negative or neutral. What she got was no reaction. Pamela just sat there, waiting for Amy to talk more about her ex-husband.

"We were only married for three years," Amy finally added. "It was really all a big mistake. I never loved him enough."

"Then why did you marry him?" Pamela wondered. "Me ... IF I ever get married, I will be 100 percent, totally in love. I would never get married unless I felt that way. The same would have to apply for my husband-to-be and how he felt about me. Nothing less than 100 percent totally in love."

"I married him because the sex was great at first," Amy answered. "You know what they say - once you go black, you never go back. But even that grew old after awhile."

"I have never been with a black man, so I would not know," Pamela countered, shrugging her shoulders.

Amy shook her head. "I cheated on Eddie with four guys in the first year of marriage." Pamela's eyelids skyrocketed as Amy went on, "I worked for a financial group back then in an office building. All four of the guys I cheated on Eddie with that first year, I knew from work. One was my boss."

"Nice way to get a raise, I suppose."

"No," Amy told her, defiant. "It wasn't about money or pay or anything. It was about the sex. I became addicted to my boss. I had to be with him every single day. I had to have his cock in my mouth or my pussy every single day. I could not live without it."

Pamela burst into laughter. "Alrighty, then!" After a couple of seconds, she was able to settle down. "What did your husband say after he found out about your ... addiction?"

Amy pouted. "Eddie kicked me out once he found out. I went to live on my own for awhile. Had to get an extra job at a supermarket, and worked there at night. I needed to make ends meet. But Eddie took me back after a few months. I was totally faithful to him for a year."

"Only a year?"

"Yeah," Amy frowned. "First it was this guy I met at the movie theater. We kind of ... got into his van ... and found a dark corner of the parking lot. That was only after I had given him a hand-job in the movie theater." Pamela looked intrigued. "Then it was my boss again. And his wife."

"HIS WIFE?" Pamela exclaimed.

"Both of them were much older than me," Amy fidgeted. "They were into some pretty kinky stuff, and it excited me. I cannot tell you how many three-somes I had with them. I remember times I would lie to Eddie and say I was going to the mall with a friend, just so I could spend a couple of hours with Master Jack and Mistress Kim. They ... they did things to me that I did not even know were possible! I learned so many things from them ... so many things."

"What happened when Eddie found out this time?"

"He kicked me out again, and then divorced me," Amy sulked. "I went back to the supermarket. I had quit there when Eddie took me back the first time. Then my boss got into trouble with his boss, and was fired. I was let go from the financial group, too. I guess the company wanted to wash its hand of any sex scandal or whatever. It would have been bad for business. I then got my job at _Hooters_. My new boss there actually LIKED it that I was fired for basically being a nymphomaniac. So, because I could work however many hours I wanted, and made good tips, I quit the supermarket again. I make enough money as a waitress and bartender to survive on my own. I do not live the life of luxury, but I get by pretty much okay. I work really hard and am super-nice to all of the customers. That way, all of the tips keep piling in."

Pamela smirked. "Master Jack and Mistress Kim? You're into that bondage stuff, huh? I have a friend like you."

Amy nodded. "I'm into it both ways. I can be dominant or submissive. Either way, I feel comfortable." She sighed and shook her head. "When I cheated on Eddie, I was a lot younger. I was a different person in those days. I ... I ... none of that should have ever happened."

"You regret the way things turned out, huh?"

Amy took a deep breath. "I look back on it now and feel guilty because I lied to him, and cheated on him, for such a long time. But truth be told, I should have never married Eddie in the first place. It was a mistake. I did not love him enough. Nor was I ready to settle down like that." Amy rubbed her eyes with two fists and sighed. "What about you, Pam? Have you ever been married? Or come close?"

"Pamela," she corrected her. "Please ... Pamela, not Pam. No to both. Never been married, never been close."

"Do you want to get married?"

The blonde nodded her head. "Oh yes. I just have yet to find the right man. If I get married, though, there will be no turning back. It will be forever. Trust me on that."

"It must be difficult to maintain a relationship with the type of job that you have," Amy remarked, sounding tentative. She did not want to step on any toes with her comments.

Pamela laughed. "Being a stripper? It can be, yes. It is one of the reasons why I haven't been on a date in eight months. I find it difficult to trust guys because of what I am forced to go through each and every night that I work. I am continually exposed to the lesser, vulgar side of men. It has tended to grow and wear on me after all these years. Honestly, I find it incredibly difficult to trust any man."

"I never thought about being a stripper," Amy mused. "But I bet you that if I was a stripper, I'd be one of the girls who actually enjoyed it. And I would be good at it. At least ... I think I would be good at it."

"It's not too early to get started," Pamela advised her. "You are the same age as me, and I am still going strong." She paused briefly, then continued, "Master Jack and Mistress Kim? Do you still see them? Still get together?"

Amy frowned and even seemed to hold back tears for an instant or two. "Mistress really started to get jealous, I think. Master was spending a lot of time with me. I mean, I would be underneath his desk each morning before he was even in the office. I'd spend my entire lunch breaks with him. Mistress told me one day that I was nothing more an object to them, a plaything and sex toy, and I had run my course. I was to leave and never come back. This was after we had lost our jobs for getting caught. I tried talking to Master, but he said he didn't want to risk his marriage for a piece of pussy that he knew would cheat on him eventually anyway."

Pamela was taken aback. "That is awfully harsh."

"Yeah," Amy murmured. "Thing is, though, I'd have never cheated on him. It would have been one-on-one all the way if I had my say. I never felt so strongly for someone as I did him. And the crazy thing? He is 68 years old now. I'm 30."

"I dated a guy who was 54 when I was 19," Pamela offered. "It didn't last long, though."

"Older men can be the most amazing lovers," Amy swooned.

Pamela placed both hands on the small, circular table in front of her, then stood up. "Well ... I need a shower."

"I was going to take one, but you take yours first," Amy told her. "I'll stay out here and unpack my suitcases."

"Are you sure?" Pamela confirmed. "I almost forgot that you wanted to take a shower, too."

"Go ahead," Amy insisted. "I still have a lot more work to do with my suitcases. Go ahead ... and take your time." Amy nodded her head and added a bright smile for emphasis. "I will stay busy out here, trust me. So much to do!"

Pamela made a motion to grab a pair of towels from the nearby bed, but Amy stepped forward and offered her a kiss on the cheek instead. Pamela hesitated for a moment, then tilted her head and looked at Amy. "What was that for?"

"I'm just glad that we are room-mates, and friends." Indeed, the Amy that I was witnessing right now seemed worlds different than the one who made all those crude remarks concerning Lindsay a short time ago. I liked her.

Pamela smiled. "I'm glad we're friends too, Amy." She grabbed her towels, then smiled again. "I have an idea."

"What?"

"Let's both take a shower together."

Amy's green eyes swelled with interest. "Really?"

"Why not?" Pamela asked, already beginning to unbutton her blouse. It was silky-white and made of sheer lace, and showed her bra straps through its ultra-thin fabric. This woman was loaded! A chance of seeing those bare breasts of hers made my cock instantly spring alive.

"Yeah ... why not," Amy agreed. "You and me are gonna be room-mates all summer long."

Pamela simply slipped her blouse from her shoulders, then opened her jeans. This woman was obviously a stripper. She had absolutely no qualms about getting naked in front of Amy. "This will happen eventually anyway. Might as well get acquainted sooner than later, you know."

"Good point. Wait for me!" Amy slipped her t-shirt over her head, and pulled her shorts down.

Pamela was now in her sexy bra and tiny G-string, but not for long. She reached back and unhooked her bra, which allowed her large, overflowing breasts to spill out into open view. Now I definitely had an erection. She was gorgeous!

Once the bra joined her blouse and jeans on the floor, Pamela hooked her thumbs into the G-string and guided it down her shapely hips and thighs. She lifted each leg gracefully to step out of her G-string, then stood up at full height, completely nude, her immaculate blonde hair cascading down her shoulders and across her luscious breasts. Pamela swept it back with a quick motion of her right hand.

"Wow, you're beautiful," Amy said, full of awe.

"Thank you," Pamela smiled in response.

"I wish there were more bi girls who looked like you." Next, Amy returned her attention to undressing before looking at her room-mate once again. "Would you unhook my bra?"

Pamela stepped around to Amy's back and undid all four hooks, allowing the red-head's fabulous breasts to pour out. Amy immediately rubbed them and complained, "I hate wearing bras. They're so tight. Look at the impression that stupid thing left on my skin." Amy continued to massage her own breasts, before giving Pamela another lustful glance while stepping out of her little bikini panties.

"I wonder if Jeremy will like the way we look?" Pamela speculated. "Hopefully he will."

"If Jeremy is a real man, he will," Amy replied.

Both ladies giggled as the 30-year-old grabbed some towels and followed Pamela toward the entrance to their personal restroom. As could be expected, both of them were impressed with what they saw once entering the restroom. There were the usual amenities, along with a wall-length mirror, a green marble sink which had seashells and fish designs carved into it, and a huge floor rug with two dolphins adorning it. I thought little touches like this added to the island theme.

There was the luxurious whirlpool as well, but the only place on Pamela and Amy's collective minds right now was the spacious shower stall. And why not?

Large enough to comfortably fit five people (if not more), the shower itself came complete with programmable body jets, a cascading waterfall for the neck and shoulders, hot, cleansing steam and a pair of fully adjustable shower-heads and foamers. There was even a MP3/_iPod_ player included in the shower itself, though I am certain that neither Pamela or Amy had caught onto that just yet. Maybe I would personally get to show it to them one day? I sure hope so.

All of the guest bedrooms and restrooms were replicas of each other, so the other ladies had the same luxuries that Pamela and Amy did. Everything was exactly the same.

Inside my voyeur room, I glanced at another monitor and noticed that in guest suite one, Devon and Camille were having similar ideas. It looked as if Devon was preparing to get ready for a shower, while Camille was relaxing on her bed with a wet towel over her face. Everyone was spent after their long airline flights from North America.

My interest level perked up once Pamela and Amy came into view on the monitor which surveyed their shower stall. They fiddled around with the intricate controls for awhile, then smiled as warm, soothing water sprayed from the dual shower heads. Pamela and Amy stood underneath the relaxing stream, quickly soaping themselves from head to toe with the foamers.

Pamela caressed her breasts gently with lathered hands, squeezing her nipples and rubbing them briefly before venturing downward toward the cleft between her thighs. Her movements were slow and sensuous as she applied the soap in a lush, thick lather. Then she slid her hand between her thighs once again and lovingly caressed herself.

I zoomed in and watched intently as Pamela ran her finger back-and-forth along the slit of her pussy. Zooming out, I noticed Pamela sighing as she held her face directly in line with the spray. Her rounded hips swayed in a gentle motion and her nipples stood even more erect than before.

Underneath the secondary shower nozzle, Amy had rubbed and soaped her own breasts into a creamy lather. She watched Pamela, but tried her best not to be obvious about it. Amy turned toward the spray of water and let it pour over her breasts, rinsing off the thick soap, while her right hand slipped between her thighs and began frigging her pussy with an ever-increasing rhythm. She then rubbed her own nipples with her left hand until they became even more rigid.

Amy looked over at Pamela and watched with a mixture of lust and fascination as the blonde's hip movements were more rapid than before. Amy then increased her own motion with her right hand, massaging her silken pussy faster.

Pamela's breathing was coming in raspy sounds as her face appeared flushed. Her hand went deeper between her tanned thighs, which were now spread further apart. Her long, slender middle finger disappeared into the pink crevice while the ridge of her thumb kept rubbing her little nub of a clitoris that was set to trigger an explosion.

Pamela's left hand reached for her pussy and massaged her clitoris more vigorously. It was obvious that the tension rose within her, and soon she let out an audible moan which resulted in her body shaking with pleasing, orgasmic lust.

Next to her, Amy was building to the point of release as well. Her hand reached for her slit and she jammed three fingers as far and as deep as they would go into herself. She let go of her breasts with her other hand and used it to massage her engorged clitoris. Amy then squealed with hot passion as she too, experienced a self-induced climax.

I watched in shocked silence - my shaft hard as a rock - as the pair of heavenly beauties shivered and vibrated in the aftermath of orgasm underneath the dual shower heads.

Once those sensations of arousal settled down, Pamela strolled over to her new girlfriend and embraced her from behind, cupping Amy's large breasts with both hands in the process. "Wow sweetheart ... I really needed that." She giggled and shyly added, "This is the first time that I have ever taken a shower with another girl."

The red-head giggled and placed her hands onto Pamela's. "I needed it too, honey." The two stayed together for a couple of seconds, grinding their bodies as one, as I spied on them while rubbing the enormous bulge within my shorts. I was so aroused from watching their masturbation display that I felt as if my body would just spontaneously combust!

Amy's next move was to turn her head around and place her mouth across Pamela's for a truly deep-rooted kiss. The pair of gorgeous ladies moaned and shivered together, while my erection grew so much that it actually ached. This voyeur room would _most definitely_ be a favorite spot of mine over the course of the following six weeks!

I moaned like a madman and watched with interested eyes as their kiss continued. Pamela and Amy were now exchanging tongues between their open-mouthed kiss. I zoomed in for a closer look with the hidden camera, which did nothing but cause my cock to finally reach its fully erect status.

"I would never cheat on you, either," Amy murmured.

"I wouldn't let you," Pamela sighed in response.

"Wash my hair for me tonight?" Amy asked with a friendly smile, now facing away from Pamela and adjusting the wall lever just a tad. Amy settled on a warm/hot temperature, then let the steamy water engulf her voluptuous body as she stepped into the proverbial line of fire.

Pamela was already squeezing shampoo from a bottle and onto her hand as she smiled at Amy from behind. An instant later, Amy dutifully dropped to her knees and looked over her bare shoulder at Pamela with an expression full of pure gratitude across her lovely, enchanting face.

Amy's red hair was already completely soaked, so Pamela wasted no time as she placed both hands onto her new lover's head and began to lather her up with the shampoo. My cock was throbbing uncontrollably as this highly erotic scene continued to unfold before me. Amy's silky hair was not quite that long - only slightly more than shoulder-length - but Pamela took her sweet time anyway.

Amy let the shampoo sit in her hair as she then told Pamela to kneel in front of her. The exotic dancer did just that, then giggled as Amy began to lather up her own hair as well. Pamela's blonde hair was much longer than Amy's, so there was a tremendous amount of time and effort required to shampoo and lather it up. Amy, of course, was in no rush. She seemed to genuinely enjoy doing this for Pamela.

"Ever have anyone help wash your hair before?"

"Yes, but it has been a LONG time," Pamela responded, her face beaming. "Not since high school ... an old boyfriend."

"I could do this ALL night long," Amy purred, biting her lower lip, as her hands and fingers continued to massage (and lather) Pamela's scalp. "I think this is so incredibly hot."

"I think YOU are incredibly hot," Pamela moaned.

Moments later, both ladies were giggling and standing underneath the heavy stream of shower water from above. They were sharing the water, and letting it rinse the thick shampoo from their hair, and down their luscious bodies.

I sighed as a short time later, Pamela and Amy were busy soaping each other's bodies up with the hand-held foamer and sponges. Pamela seemed to pay close attention to Amy's large breasts, fondling and squeezing the firm mounds. Amy reciprocated by placing a soapy sponge between Pamela's thighs, and massaging her nether regions rather thoroughly.

Amy sighed as Pamela brought a knee up between her thighs. Amy seemed to straddle that knee and allow it to stimulate her pussy as she sought Pamela's mouth with her own. Once finding it, the two ladies shared yet another loving kiss.

"Will you let me?" Amy asked once their lips parted, her voice sultry, as her eyes shifted downward for an instant.

"Let you what?"

This time, Amy lowered her gaze and held it at that level for several seconds. "I want to lick your pussy," were her words. "I want to lick your sweet, little pussy ... and make you EXPLODE in orgasm right here in the shower."

Pamela's body squirmed about in an obvious rush of heated anticipation as she offered Amy a gracious smile. "Really?" When Amy nodded her head, Pamela stepped away from her and then leaned back against the side wall of the shower stall. As Amy dropped to her knees, Pamela spread her trim thighs, allowing the red-head full access to her womanly treasure.

"Hmmmmm..." was the initial sound that Pamela made once Amy's hot tongue came into contact with her precious pussy. Amy placed one hand on Pamela's left leg, with the other clutching her ass, as she let her tongue do all of the work. Pamela, of course, was quite appreciative of the oral favor. "God, Amy," she squealed, reaching up with both hands and massaging her own breasts. "Hmmmmm ... that feels good."

Standing sort of bow-legged in the shower stall, with Amy on both knees directly in front of her, Pamela let out her loudest groan yet and then tilted the back of her head against the wall behind her. By now, Amy was thrusting a single finger in-and-out of Pamela's luscious folds while her tongue continued with its all-out, ravenous assault.

Pamela's audible noises and squeals of passion became even more resounding once Amy added a second finger to the mix, her tongue still continually swirling itself over and across Pamela's tender pussy. I simply could not believe my eyes!

Both Pamela and Amy could easily pose as pin-up centerfold models if given the opportunity. They were that beautiful. I had become so overly aroused while eavesdropping on these two ladies as they took a dual shower that I was about to lose my mind. This was not one of the many adult movies that I had watched throughout the years to amuse myself. No ... this was real! Even better, it was taking place on my private island - in my very own home. Unbelievable!

"OH MY GOD!" Pamela whined out in pure ecstasy, her body bucking and churning about within the shower stall. It was obvious that Amy was intent on bringing Pamela to an orgasm. It was probably the only thing that mattered to her at this point in time. Shortly thereafter, Amy's concentration on Pamela's little clitoris was finally rewarded with a climax.

With Amy's face still firmly nestled between her thighs, Pamela rocked and gyrated her pelvis about in erotic delight as she went through the joyous progression of orgasm. Like the hungry nymphomaniac that she claimed to be, Amy eagerly lapped up all of the delicious juice and nectar that oozed from Pamela's pussy as a result of her mind-blowing orgasm. She did not stop, in fact, until that pussy was licked clean.

When Amy finally withdrew her face from the joining of Pamela's thighs, the 30-year-old enchantress from Maryland had a dreamy look on her face. As a show of appreciation, Pamela then knelt downward and shared a slow-moving kiss with Amy. Best of all, it had a lot of tongue action included.

"Hmmmmm ... I needed that SO bad," Pamela commented once their kiss had reached its conclusion. "You do not know how long it has been since someone made me feel so good inside."

Amy smiled at those words, then pecked Pamela's lips with another kiss. "It was my pleasure, honey. My pleasure..."

Pamela suddenly giggled. "All we need now is a man!"

"Yeah," Amy agreed. "Where is Jeremy when we need him? I wonder if he could satisfy both of us at the same time?"

"Oh God..." I moaned, as those wicked words caused my cock to erupt within my shorts. My whole body trembled with lust as I squirmed about in the chair, surprised that mere words could cause an explosion like this within me. Of course, the red-hot encounter that preceded those words helped, too.

Taking a deep breath, I rose up from the chair and exited the voyeur room. I hated to miss any of the live, spicy action, but knew that my cameras were always on the lookout and would dutifully record any movements for me. I needed to wash up and prepare for the official reception party which would take place in the dining room later tonight.

-------

All of the ladies showed up that evening at the right time - 9:00pm. The buffet table was set up with the dishes that had been prepared by Louisa, the elderly woman whom I considered to be the world's best cook/housekeeper. Never once had the 76-year-old fixed a meal which I did not like, or fully appreciate. Tonight would be no exception.

In addition to fruit juices of all varieties, other beverages, such as bottled water, coffee and iced tea were available as well. My goal was to keep the reception as informal and as friendly as possible. Tomorrow, I figured, my plans for the upcoming six weeks would actually begin.

For this evening, I chose to mingle with and meet all of the girls, trying not to give any impression of favoritism. Right now, though, I found myself feeling attracted most to Pamela, the exotic dancer from Maryland with the long blonde hair and loaded, top-deck figure.

Not only was she very exquisite to look at, but there was something in the way that Pamela carried herself which was just as enticing. Despite the fact that she was a stripper which, of course, brought a horrible (and unfair) stereotype with it, Pamela seemed to be the type of woman that I should get to know on a much deeper and more personal level.

When I approached her, Amy was at her side.

"Are you two beautiful ladies enjoying yourselves?" I asked, trying to be friendly and casual, the sight of them quivering together in the shower still fresh in my mind. Not only had I watched it live, but I went back and replayed the footage two more times after my own shower earlier as well. Oh ... the look on Pamela's face when Amy was tonguing her.

Amy jumped in before Pamela could even attempt to answer. "Oh, yes. This island is so wonderful. And the food is absolutely delicious. Can we eat all we want?"

"Of course. You can eat all you want, and ANYTHING you want." I put more emphasis on the _anything_ to see if there would be a reaction. Pamela smiled and giggled as she caught the double meaning, but Amy just kept talking away.

"Oh, okay. I just didn't want to mess up my chance at the big prize - the 500 grand in cash. I mean, I don't know the rules or anything, so I thought I'd ask. It is okay to ask, isn't it? Or should I back off?"

Twirling her silky red hair around an extended finger and batting her eyelashes, Amy was really laying on the sweetness now. She was trying to seduce the answer out of me. Little did Amy know that due to my eavesdropping on the conversation that she had with Pamela earlier, however, I was prepared for it. Amy was not about to trick me tonight.

"You may ask me anything you want," I answered.

"I bet there are lots of rules, aren't there?"

I nodded my head. "A few rules, actually. We will go over everything in the morning before breakfast. Right now, I think it is best that all of us simply enjoy the evening. All of you certainly did have a long trip to get here today."

"You can say that again!" Amy huffed in an exaggerated fashion. "During the last few hours of the flight from Miami to Peru, I felt as if my ears were going to pop! Add in the flight from Cincinnati... 3,700 miles! I had never been in an airplane for so long before."

"You don't have to worry about getting back on a plane for six whole weeks," I advised her, smiling leisurely. "By that time, you will be a lot richer than you are now. You know ... either $100,000 ... or $500,000. We shall see. That should definitely make the trip back home a lot less taxing for you."

"How will you determine who gets the big money?"

"That, my dear Amy, I cannot answer. Not now, at least."

"I knew it!" Amy complained, even stomping her foot. She was obviously an expert at seduction and manipulation. "But I wish I knew what the guidelines for getting it were. I mean, a girl does have certain needs, but I would not want to break any of your rules and ruin my chances."

"Needs?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.

"You know," she said. "Different things. Like how a girl feels, what she wants. Needs."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm not sure I do."

"I don't need to talk about it in front of everybody," Amy fretted. "But if I asked you in private ... would that be okay? Could I do that? Please?"

"You can ask me anything, at any time, any place. My door is always open for you and the others. Just knock."

"Oh, good! I'll be sure to remember that."

I would be remiss if I did not mention the fact that although all of the ladies were dressed in casual attire, one of them stood out more than any other due to her very provocative choice of clothing. Perhaps she chose to come to the official reception this way because she enjoyed shocking others. Obviously, this woman craved being at the center of things. Some could even argue that it was a loud cry for attention. Whatever the case, it should not come as any great surprise that the person stirring the proverbial pot of controversy with her attire was none other than Amy.

It was not because Amy had on a skimpy tank-top, or the tightest pair of denim shorts that I had ever seen on a woman. Rather, it was because of what was printed on the front of her tank-top. In big, bold letters, stretching out across Amy's massive breasts, was the term _Filthy WHORE_. Beneath it, in much smaller text, read _Sin For Sale_.

Where Amy got this tank-top, with its hot, shocking inscriptions, was beyond me. I did not even realize that a clothing company would ever create something such as this. Regardless, it seemed to go with Amy's character perfectly. She wanted others to look at her, and think of her, this way. She most definitely wanted to be noticed. That was obvious.

With Amy literally busting out all over the place, one could easily assume that all eyes locked onto her whenever she chose to wear this little, form-fitting tank-top out in public. She had caused quite the stir among all of the ladies here on the island with it (as well as me, obviously). Who else but Amy? It made sense to me. _Filthy WHORE_, _Sin For Sale_. Indeed, who else but Amy?...

"You have a beautiful home."

And you are a beautiful woman, Pamela, I said to myself. "Thank you, dear. I appreciate that."

"You're welcome."

Although no one could find any fault if I were to stay here and converse with the charming Pamela from now until the end of eternity, while gawking at Amy's eye-popping chest at the same time, I felt it was to move onto another two-some. I certainly did not want any of the ladies to believe that I had a favorite. Not yet, anyway.

I looked around and murmured, "I must be going now, before the other ladies start to think I'm playing favorites. Both of you, Pamela and Amy ... enjoy the party."

Devon and Camille were huddled together and engaged in a lively conversation, but both offered me a friendly smile once I made my way up to them. I did the same, but added a second grin for Devon. A well-stacked blonde herself, Devon had a small American flag on full display - its stick was embedded in her cleavage, and the actual flag was flowing out from her camisole top. She was proud to be an American! Who could blame her for such a wonderful thing?

"Has the island been kind to the two of you thus far?" I asked them, wanting to sound as friendly as possible.

"It's been great!" Devon chirped in response, her blue eyes glowing. "I just cannot wait to get out and explore this place tomorrow. I bet the beaches are beautiful."

"They sure did look beautiful in those pictures that I got in the mail," Camille offered. "I cannot wait to see them with my own two eyes, either. You did say, Jeremy, that you would take us on a hike of the island tomorrow."

"I most definitely did. And, I will."

Camille took a sip of her hot, steaming coffee, then flashed me a winning smile. This mocha-skinned beauty of Spanish and Asian descent was the type of woman who had been inhabiting my dreams and fantasies for as long as I could remember. "Everyone seems to be complaining about what a long airline flight it was from the states," she commented. "But I had the longest flight of all - from San Diego to Los Angeles, all the way over to Miami, and then back in the same general direction to Peru. I wound up flying 12 hours when it could have just been six! It'd been so much easier to just go from San Diego to Peru."

I nodded at her. "I understand that, Camille. But I wanted you to be on the flight from Miami to Lima with all of the other girls so you could talk and develop friendships before even stepping foot on the island. You are the only girl who came from the west. The others all reside in the east - Devon lives in Pennsylvania, Pamela is from Maryland, Trish in Ontario, and Lindsay and Amy are from Cincinnati." Cincinnati, in fact, is my original hometown as well. It did play its role in Lindsay and Amy being here right now.

I paused for a brief moment before continuing, "I did make it worthwhile, though, Camille. I paid for you to have a three day vacation in Miami in-between flights, with a quick trip to the Florida Keys. You said you have family there."

"Oh ... I'm not complaining or griping about it," the 25-year-old assured me. "I had a good time in Miami. And I definitely thank you for paying all of my expenses. It is just that mostly everyone is complaining about the long airline flights they had. Mine was twice as long as theirs! But you did make the strange journey worth my while. I got to visit my cousin Maria for the first time in 15 years. I used to visit her all of the time when she lived in La Joya."

"So everything worked out well," I nodded.

"Yes, it did," she agreed.

"Where exactly is La Joya?" Devon asked Camille.

"Across the border from San Diego, in Mexico," she said. "Cousin Maria lived there until her family upped and moved away to the Florida Keys. That was 15 years ago."

"It must have been something to see her again," Devon remarked. "Is she the same age as you?"

"Two years younger. I'm 25. Maria is 23."

"Most of my inner and outer family is in Pennsylvania," Devon offered. "I never have to travel far to see them. Problem is, I'm not particularly close with any of them. Well, except my sister and my grandparents. I am close with them. My sister, Patricia ... she is happily married, and has the two most adorable children. I am always willing to baby-sit for them whenever the need arises! Hey ... how do you like it in California? I've never been there."

"Where I live - San Diego - it is beautiful," Camille answered. "Actually, I live in Chula Vista. It is a suburb of San Diego. I was born in Mexico, but my family came to the United States when I was three years old."

"I spent four years in and around the Los Angeles area," I said, tossing my two cents into the conversation. "Others say differently, but I never really liked it there. I lived in Los Angeles from the ages of 18 to 22. Actually, I lived in Long Beach and Lakewood. Technically speaking, I still have a home there, I suppose - in Rachos Palos Verdes - but my father and his girlfriend stay there. The house is in my name only for legal purposes. But, as I said, I never liked it in California. The only reason I have to return there today is to visit my father."

"You haven't lived in California since you were age 22?" Camille clarified. "How old are you now?"

"38." Yes ... I was plenty older than all of my guests.

"There is a running feud between people from San Diego and Los Angeles," Camille smirked. "I cannot say anything good about Los Angeles. I don't like it there much myself. I prefer San Diego a million times more. It's home to me."

"What can we expect over the next six weeks?" Devon said to me, her head tilted in an inquisitive manner. "I mean, are you going to ask us to do anything shocking?"

I reached out and gently brushed Devon's American flag with a fingertip, while also smiling at her. "Whatever you or any of the others do, dear, will be up to you. I won't ask or force any of you to do something that makes you feel one bit uncomfortable. Remember, your comfort is my goal. I want you and the others to have the time of your lives. The only chance I have of that happening is if you and all of your fellow ladies are 100 percent comfortable here. It is my job to make sure that happens."

In a move that surprised me, Devon smiled and leaned upward, then planted a gentle, whispery kiss upon my face. I even felt myself flush red with embarrassment as Devon then looked at me, her expression vibrant and cheerful.

"What was that for?" I managed to get out, holding the side of my face with an open palm. I was _stunned_!

Devon grinned and responded, "That was the first kiss of many between us, hopefully." Camille cooed at those words, as did Pamela and Amy (both of whom were close by), while I tried to make sense of this. Both hands clutched together at her waist, Devon simply continued to look at me and grin.

Still feeling a bit flustered, I managed to put forth a smile while telling Devon and Camille, "I better get going. As I told Pamela and Amy, I don't want to show favoritism. I should go over and talk to Lindsay and Trish. They seem to be sampling all of the fruit punches at the drink table."

"Is it okay if any of us show favoritism?" Devon asked, those pretty eyes sparkling as she studied me from head to toe. "I already know who MY favorite is."

Just like that, Devon replaced Pamela as my favorite. Of course, I figured that I would switch back-and-forth between several (if not all) of the ladies before finally deciding on the one I liked the most. It could take the whole six weeks. Perhaps it could even take _longer_ than six weeks, too...

But for now, my favorite was the blonde and very petite Devon. I appreciated a woman who was open, honest and very straightforward about her feelings (but not to the point of being potentially hurtful, as Amy was earlier when discussing the possibility of getting Lindsay drunk). In fact, I do not think there are enough honest people in the world today.

"You can do whatever you want," I said to Devon, before turning and slowly walking away.

"But you don't understand," Lindsay spoke to Trish in a hushed tone, as I approached them from behind. "It's not that I've never been with another girl. I've never been with anyone before - boy or girl - period. I'm a virgin..."

"You're a VIRGIN?" Trish exclaimed, although she kept her voice low so the others (presumably) would not hear her.

Unfortunately for the two ladies, however, I was standing directly behind them. Trish turned and looked at me, then brought a hand to her mouth and sighed. Meanwhile, Lindsay was shell-shocked. Was the fact that she was still a virgin supposed to be kept a secret? It sure did appear that way...

Trying to calm the sudden rush of anxiety that was here, I patted my right ear with an open hand several times. "What did you say? I've been having problems with my ears lately. There are certain instances when I just cannot hear a thing."

Lindsay seemed to appreciate my response, but continued to pout anyway. "Please don't tell the others, Jeremy. I beg of you ... PLEASE! It's a personal and private thing. I was only telling Trish here because she has been the nicest of anyone to me thus far, and she is my room-mate."

I smiled at her. "I said I've been having problems with my ears. I didn't hear anything. I cannot tell the others something that I did not hear. So your secret is safe. You never have to worry about me exposing a secret."

Lindsay suddenly looked relieved. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome."

It should come as no great surprise that Lindsay was an early favorite of mine as well. It was easy to understand why just by looking at her. The 18-year-old appeared to be nothing more than a delicious, tempting little girl every single time that I laid my eyes on her thus far today. Her pristine, long-flowing blonde hair tied into a bushy pony-tail was enough to drive any man insane by itself. Her hair was so shiny and immaculate; it glowed in the moonlight.

But there was plenty more - her wholesome, sweet-cheeks face and her sexy mouth enhanced with its pink, glossy lips. Lindsay had a smile which could make my heart flutter. Of course, one could never forget that lithe, slender figure of hers, either. At 5-foot-3 and 95 pounds, it seemed as if Lindsay belonged on a homecoming float somewhere right now. She surely did not belong in a hedonistic haven such as this island. On the other hand, though, I was glad she was here. I was not complaining about her presence at all.

Lindsay's innocent, religious schoolgirl demeanor was what got me most about her, though. One could easily tell that she had spent a secluded life growing up in a small rural town. But now, Lindsay wanted to spread her wings, so to speak, and explore new avenues in her life. Discounting the $100,000 in guaranteed earnings, it was her likely reason for coming to the island. No one could blame her for that.

The little sweetheart received extra points, at least in my book, for still being a virgin. Devon was my current favorite, yes, but Lindsay was nipping at her heels. Pamela had fallen a little behind, but I had a sneaking suspicion that she would find herself back in the running very soon. Obviously, the same could be said for Amy.

"How are the two of you enjoying your time thus far on the island?" I asked both Lindsay and Trish.

"This place is beautiful," Trish responded. "I know I sound like all the others, but it's the truth. This is way better than I ever imagined it would be. They definitely do do not have any places like this in Canada."

I nodded my head and smiled. "Wait until our nature hike tomorrow. You will be awestruck ... trust me."

Speaking of being awestruck, that was personally how I felt right now. I was such a lucky man to have been able to surround myself with this group of lovely women. Never in my life had I witnessed such a collection of beauty assembled together in just one place. This was incredible for me!

"You own this island, right?" Lindsay said to me. "If you do not mind my asking, Jeremy, how much did all of this cost you? I mean, not only the island, but the house, too. And everything outdoors - the pool, the garden, the stables. You must have spent a fortune on this place!"

"Many millions of dollars, I'd bet, eh?" Trish speculated.

"I'd rather not get into specifics about myself right now," I told them. "In due time, though, all of you will know most everything about me. I am a very open and honest person."

Suddenly, I noticed that Lindsay was wearing a wristband. But not just any wristband, or the one I had instructed her to wear around her elbow on the flight from North America. This wristband had the phrase _What would Jesus do?_ printed on it. Clearly, Lindsay was a very religious girl.

"Nice wristband."

Lindsay smiled at me, then raised her right hand and pointed at its wrist with her left. "Oh ... this. Faith is a very big part of my life. I am a believer that the only way to God is through Jesus. I've always believed that." She smiled again, in the shyest, cutest manner, and added, "Maybe you can tell I'm the daughter of a minister."

"I am not very religious myself," I admitted. "I have been to church a few times, but that is it."

"You should become more interested and get involved with the church," Lindsay urged me. "God has helped me through many of the problems that I have faced in my own life. If you devote yourself to Him, Jeremy, He would help you too. Any problems that you have, God would guide you through. He has been my strength and inspiration for all of my life."

That was a good mindset to have, I said inwardly. But I had so many problems that God would not know where to start.

-------

After two hours of meeting and mingling, I called for everyone's attention. "Ladies. This has been a delightful evening, but I know you are all very tired from your long airline flights and wish to rest. Sleep late tomorrow if you like. We'll get together for awhile at ten o'clock and then the afternoon is all yours to enjoy the island. Remember, my personal suite is on the other side of the mansion from where all of your rooms are. If you have any questions, concerns, suggestions, whatever ... feel free to knock at any time. I will do whatever I can to adhere to your requests and wishes. Your comfort is my goal. Good night, and sleep well."

The girls began to drift off to their own rooms while I cleaned up and cleared the dining room. The whole job took less than ten minutes. One could say that I did have a live-in housekeeper to do this job for me, but Louisa was a senior citizen and I felt as if I asked too much of her as it was. So, I was more than happy to help with the clean-up. I also did my fair share of daily chores around here, too.

Next, I went to my private suite and locked the door, then opened the secret panel to the voyeur room and scanned the television monitors. All of the guest suites showed up with some of the ladies in various stages of undress, getting ready for bed. Remembering what had transpired earlier today between Pamela and Amy, I immediately got hard once again.

For the time being, I decided to focus my attention on Devon, who was sharing the first guest suite with Camille. Judging from her words, the 27-year-old from Pennsylvania had a definite crush on me. It was wonderful that Devon felt this way about me, but I had one question: Why?

Obviously not afraid to speak her mind, Devon was very outgoing and amicable, and her warm nature complemented her striking looks. Her physical appearance by itself simply demanded one's attention. Was there any man alive who could resist a woman as sultry and as beautiful as Devon? What normal man hasn't dreamed of an overly shapely blonde with a small, rail-thin waist, with the face of an angel to boot?

But since Devon was someone who could easily have her choice of any man, I wondered to myself why she had taken such a sudden interest in me. Of course, not only was this her first day on the island, but Devon and I had yet to sit down and thoroughly introduce ourselves to one another. It was not all that often when a dazzling, radiant woman such as Devon made a pass at me right out of the gate - even before knowing me. In fact, this was the first time ever.

I hardly considered myself some type of Casanova, or a very desirable man. I was really just your normal, typical guy. There were both good and bad things about me, but nothing stood out either way. That is an honest-to-goodness assessment of myself. Devon, however, could have her choice of any man. Why did I interest her so much at this very early stage of our relationship?

I contemplated several reasons in my mind, but none of them seemed to make any sense. Meanwhile, I kept an eye on Devon with the help of my hidden surveillance cameras. She was on the edge of the bed, wearing an oversized night-shirt, while Camille sorted through her suitcases just a few feet away. Curious, I flipped the microphone for their room on.

"What's it like in Pennsylvania?" Camille asked.

Devon, brushing her long-flowing blonde hair, offered a smile and replied, "A WHOLE lot different than what you are used to in San Diego, I'd say. There's snow in the winter and it gets really hot in the summer. I guess it is an okay place to live, but I'm glad I finally got out - at least for the time being. I love this island. I just love it!"

"Already?" Camille countered, giggling. "I'm going to miss my family while we're here. My mom and dad, and my two brothers. I'm going to miss all of them."

"That's one thing about me," Devon commented, her lips pursed. "I really don't care to see my parents any more. I wanted to get away from them more than anything else."

"Oh," Camille replied, looking hurt. "Did your parents do something wrong to you? Why are you mad at them?"

"It's a long story," Devon told her, glancing away.

Sorting through her suitcase as she sat on the floor, Camille nodded her head and said, "Well, if you ever want to talk about it, let me know. I'd love to listen and help."

Devon gave Camille a smile and mused, "I appreciate it. I think maybe I'll feel more like sharing in the future, as we get to know each other better. Sound good?"

"Of course," the lusty Latina responded. "Hey, what was that earlier when you tried to put the move on Jeremy?"

"Yeah," Devon grinned, shrugging her shoulders. "So? What can I say? I like him. I like him a lot."

"He does seem nice," Camille offered, sounding reserved. "I was talking with some of the others earlier. We really don't know what he expects from us over the course of the next six weeks. I'm going to hold back my judgment on him until I learn more about him. One of my friends back home warned me that Jeremy may run some sort of slave camp here. She warned me to be ready for anything."

I scoffed at those words - a slave camp(!/?) - as Devon shook her head in denial. "No, I don't think so. I asked Jeremy that very same thing at the party - what he expected from us. He said he would not ask us to do anything that made us feel uncomfortable. You were there too, Camille. I trust him. He is very, very nice. He is honest, too. I like those qualities in a man. I appreciate them."

"How do you know that he is honest?" Camille inquired. "I mean, you just met him a couple of hours ago..."

"Call me an excellent judge of character," Devon told her. "I can see right through men when they are being dishonest. I have had my fair share of practice with that in the past."

"Why are we even here, though?" Camille wondered, a bit skeptical. "Why did Jeremy bring all of us here? Why is he paying us so much money? Surely, he wants something."

"To find the right woman, and eventually marry her," I replied out loud. Obviously, since I was in the voyeur room, neither of the ladies could hear me. But still...

"Those are good questions," Devon nodded. "Maybe we can ask Jeremy about them tomorrow. Nevertheless, I believe this is going to be the absolute best time of all our lives. I think you have nothing to be worried about, Camille. I can promise you that Jeremy will treat us very, very well."

"You must really like him."

"Most definitely," the blonde returned.

"Is your love life as bad as mine?" Camille inquired, suddenly changing the subject.

Devon frowned momentarily. "I was dating this guy named Barrett for a long time, but he was a total jerk." Devon took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't know why I stayed with him as long as I did, but I did. Years."

"Have you ever been married?"

"No, but I'd love to be someday," Devon replied. "I came close with Barrett, I guess, but it never would have worked out. He was such a jerk. He wanted me to live my life HIS way. I felt suffocated. And he cheated on me, too."

"How could anyone cheat on you? You are so beautiful!"

Devon blushed again. She seemed genuinely grateful for these nice compliments. "Thank you, Camille. But after me and Barrett broke up, I kind of lost myself in my job. I was a project manager for a large company in Pennsylvania. I devoted my heart and soul to that company. I worked 16 to 20 hours per day. I worked off days, even vacations. I once worked 106 days in a row, at least ten hours each day. I was like a walking zombie once I finally had a day off. And even then, I still worried about my job all day long."

"Why would you do that? Why work so hard?"

"I wanted to be promoted, but things got to the point where it seemed as if that would never happen," she said. "I saw people with half my experience pass me by. They got to work on the bigger projects, and make more money. And I hated the fact that my boss took ALL of the credit for the work I did. ALL OF THE CREDIT." Devon became agitated as she continued, "I worked my ass off for that company. All those hours and I never got any credit whatsoever." Devon pouted and fretted, "I'm sorry ... please excuse my language."

"There is no need for you to be sorry," Camille mused. "You wanted a little appreciation from your work. You say those with less experience passed you by and were promoted? Yet you gave your whole life to that job?"

"I haven't been on so much as a date in four months," Devon sulked. "I never had any time for anything other than work. But I got so angry with my boss and burned out that after I saw a flyer at a local health club, advertising this island and the chance at $500,000, it seemed like the right choice for me. Once my application was accepted for coming here, I quit my job. I told my boss to shove it."

That was an interesting tidbit of information to me. I was not aware that Devon had quit her job in order to come to the island. Suddenly, I felt worried for her future. I was under the impression that she and all of the other ladies had taken an excused leave of absence from their jobs.

"What are you going to do once you go back home?"

"I'll land on my feet somewhere," Devon answered. "Even if I don't get the $500,000, I'll get $100,000. Not bad for a six week vacation, huh?" Devon grinned and added, "Plus, it looks like my life-long fantasy will come true here."

"What is that?"

Devon hesitated, then smiled again. "To be with a woman."

Camille's eyes went wide. "You have never been with a woman before? And you're 27? Talking sexually, right?"

Devon nodded her head. "I have been attracted to other women since I was in high school. But I was too afraid to let anyone know about it. Too scared of embarrassment, I guess." Devon seemed a bit uncomfortable as she continued, "I take it ... you have been with ... women before?"

"Yes, I have. Since I was 17. Lots of girls."

"Are those ... is that ... what you prefer?" Devon seemed even more uncomfortable now. She was very curious about Camille and her experiences, obviously, but did not want to come across as being too intrusive or nosey.

"Sometimes I like being with guys," Camille responded. "Sometimes I like being with girls. Depends on my mood. Sometimes I like being with guys AND girls at the same time."

Devon smiled. "You mean a three-some?"

"Or a four-some," Camille mused. "Five-some, six-some. The more people for me, the merrier ... you know?"

Now, Devon was frowning. "I've been with two people in my life. Barrett, and my boyfriend from high school, Tim. Everyone always tells me how beautiful I am. But I'm 27, and I feel as if a big part of my life has passed me by. I just ... I get the feeling that I'm missing out on something. Like I have let so many opportunities pass me by in life in terms of relationships, and I don't have all that many left."

"You are 27, Devon," Camille reminded her. "Not 97. Not too many chances left for a relationship? That is crazy! You have all sorts of time. What about Jeremy?"

Devon smiled. "Hmmmmm ... Jeremy. I really like him. I want to get to know him better. I felt a certain spark the first time I looked at him earlier. You know what I mean?"

Camille tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at Devon. "The type of spark where you feel as if, quite possibly, you have finally found what it is that you have been searching all 27 years of your life for? Perhaps ... the perfect man?"

Devon offered a sheepish grin. "Exactly."

Inside the voyeur room, I gulped my throat and felt a sharp tingling sensation shoot right down my spine. Devon viewed me as _the perfect man_? _ME_? The idea was quite flattering, indeed, but I simply could not accept it. I was not perfect. I had way too many flaws as a person to be considered anything more than average, or even below average.

"You are beautiful," Camille stressed, her gaze locked onto Devon's face. "You are the sexiest woman that I have ever seen in my entire life. I think you are a goddess."

Devon offered a slight (perhaps stunned?) smile, then gulped her throat. Camille quickly went on, "I am happy that you are willing to tell me things about your life. I want you to trust in me. I want to be your friend."

"You are very easy to talk to," Devon nodded. "I feel as if I could tell you anything, Camille. I really do. Just from these few minutes here, and the reception party."

"You can," the Mexican purred, before shifting gears in their conversation. "If you like Jeremy as much as you say you do, why not let him know about it?"

Devon laughed in a negative manner and shook her head. "I tried that at the party earlier. I kissed him, you know, but I hope I wasn't too forward with what I did. I really don't want to mess things up. I like him SO MUCH."

"I like you too, dear," I commented, watching the monitor.

"I feel as if I'm back in high school!" Devon giggled, tilting her head from side-to-side in a repeated motion. "Like I am vying for the attention of the hottest guy in class! I certainly haven't felt this way since then."

"The hottest guy in class?" I chuckled, not believing my ears. Was Devon actually making a reference to me?

Camille laughed as well. "I was always vying for the hottest girl in class when I was in high school. Everyone knew that I was bi-sexual, and that I adored other girls. It didn't stop the guys from going after me, though."

"Wasn't it embarrassing?"

"What?"

"Everyone knowing that you were bi-sexual?"

Camille shook her head. "Not at all. I never really cared what others thought about me. I had four different girlfriends when I was a senior in high school, and many more in the years following that. If I kept the fact that I am bi-sexual to myself and never let anyone know about it, I would be in the same predicament that you are now."

"What do you mean?" Devon wondered, curious.

"Age 27 and a virgin in terms of being with other women," Camille replied. "Instead, because I was not afraid to let others know of my sexuality, my first time with another woman happened nine years ago - in 2003. A girl, actually. A Puerto Rican girl named A.J." Camille closed her eyes for a moment and sighed at the memories. "Hmmmmm ... A.J. had a tongue and definitely knew how to use it."

"Really?" Devon fidgeted, but also seeming very intrigued.

"How you could have survived this long with just two men in your life - and no women - is beyond me," Camille told her. "I would go insane without the taste of pussy. And just two men? You have limited yourself so much, Devon. Your life must feel so incredibly unfulfilled right now."

"Yeah..." Devon murmured, her voice suddenly frail.

"I have an idea," Camille purred. "You say that you really like Jeremy. You have an attraction for women that has yet to be explored. And you seem very curious and interested about group sex, or at least the idea of it."

"I've never done that sort of thing before," Devon said in her soft, squealy tone. "I mean ... I don't even know anything about it. But the thought does intrigue me."

"Here is my idea," Camille cooed, a devious smile on her face. "I say you and me go to Jeremy's room right now, knock on his door ... and then we seduce him. Together." My eyes suddenly wide, I coughed out loud and felt my cock twinge and pulsate with life. Camille wanted Devon to tag along with her for a night of sex with me? Just the mere idea sent my mind into serious overdrive with the possibilities!

"Oh no, I could never do that," Devon offered in response, shaking her head. "I ... I'm not that type of girl."

"What type of girl?" Camille giggled. "Look at you, Devon. Look at all the pent-up sexual frustration that is inside of you. You haven't been on a date in several months. How many times have you seen a good-looking guy on the street, or at the corner market, and just wanted to let go? Just wanted to throw yourself at him, and let go? Bend over right there and let him violate you like no one's business?"

"Camille!..." Devon squealed, fidgeting about as she leaned against the dresser in their suite. Devon's good side wanted to deny those allegations, but if so, it would have been a lie. Judging by her reaction, Devon had many fantasies similar to the one which Camille just eluded to.

"I know your type."

"My type?" Devon screeched. "WHAT are you talking about?"

Camille smiled. "You worked in an office setting, yes? I bet you wore tight, little outfits every single day to work - showing off your body for all the men, and even the women. Am I correct?" Devon squirmed and fidgeted some more, silently admitting that Camille's speculation was dead-on accurate. "You were the best-looking woman in the entire museum, and you knew it. You wanted others to know it, too. Show some leg, some cleavage ... you'd do anything."

Camille eyed Devon from head to toe and continued, "How many times did you fantasize about sucking one of your male co-workers off? Even if it was just for fun? How many times did you think about hooking up with the hot red-head in the corner cubicle, and licking her pussy?"

"Act-Actually," Devon stammered, "the hot blonde. I ... it was a hot blonde in the corner cubicle. Je-Jesse."

"Thought so," Camille grinned. "How many times did you finger yourself to sleep at night, fantasizing about licking Jesse's pussy as if it was your first supper in weeks?"

"Camille!" Devon whined, obviously flustered. "Stop it!"

"I bet you would have made a fine _sucretary_."

"Sucretary?" Devon asked, confused.

"A sucretary," Camille repeated. "Your job each day would be to wait on your knees underneath your boss' desk. When he comes into the office and sits down at his desk, you would be required to start sucking his cock immediately. That is what Amy was for her boss. She told me so!" Eve nodded her head for emphasis and purred, "Oh yes ... you would be REALLY good at that. Probably even much better than Amy, because of all of that frustration inside of you. Or maybe your boss could be a woman? Me ... perhaps? _I_ would have you lick my pussy all day, Devon. I would also have you fuck my clients and all of your co-employees on demand. Oh yes ... I would! And best of all, you would like it! You would always want more!"

"Oh God..." Devon sighed, those words and the thoughts they conjured up within her mind obviously affecting her.

"You would be really good at that," Camille surmised, a wicked grin on her face. "You and your hot, little body. If I were your boss, Devon, your only job would be to fuck and please others. The office slut! But most importantly, though ... me. I would turn you into a 'lil fuck doll ... a _Tickle Me Devon_ doll. I'd dress you up in leather, latex, PVC ... handcuffs too, of course. Dog chains! You'd crawl around the office all day on your hands and knees, and you'd fuck anyone and everyone I told you to at a drop of a dime."

Devon sprung up and flailed her arm outward in a very angry fashion. Apparently, Camille had went too far. "I am going down to the kitchen to get something to drink," Devon told her. "And I DO NOT want you to follow me." With that, she turned and stormed out of the room.

Camille still had that evil smile as she looked toward the door Devon had just exited through. "It may take a couple of days, but I'll convert her," the Latina said in a low voice, nodding her head for emphasis. "I'm going to turn her into a walking, living, breathing sex toy ... yes I am."

-------

My attention was diverted as I noticed in the third guest suite, there was what appeared to be a little girl seated on the far bed. She was wearing white pajamas that had feet in them, with _yellow duckie_ designs all around. Oh my God!...

"I just never found the right person to give myself to yet," Lindsay said, as I flipped the audio switch on for the room that she shared with Trish. "I want my first time to be very special and wonderful. Is that too much to ask? I want to look back 50 years from now and not regret one thing about it. That is why I've waited this long. I had lots of opportunities with guys in high school, but I never found the right one. I guess I'm a little old-fashioned..."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Trish, who was seated on the opposite bed, told her. "But why did you come here, honey, knowing what this place would be like?"

"For the money," Lindsay admitted. "For the money. I ... I know it will happen here. I know that I will lose my virginity here. I just want to feel comfortable and secure with whomever it happens to be with. I guess I won't be in love, but I at least want it to be with a friend. I don't have any friends here yet because we all just met today."

"I'm your friend," Trish cooed.

Lindsay seemed to squirm about at those words. "I have never had a girlfriend, unfortunately, and I've only had a couple of boyfriends. I've always been curious about other girls but have always been too afraid to approach them. I live in a really small town and if word got out ... OHHHHH ... I don't even want to think about it. But I've dreamed of one day having a girlfriend for probably five or six years. Even as early as age 12, I was attracted to other girls. I had the biggest crush on Britney Spears back in the day."

Trish laughed. "Hopefully not any more! I remember when she shaved her head bald ... her career has definitely taken a downward spin from where it was 10, 12 years ago."

"She has made a comeback in recent times, you know."

"Sort of..." Trish conceded.

Lindsay hesitated for an instant, then shyly bit her lip. "Carrie Underwood is my girl-crush nowadays."

Trish smiled. "Nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong at all. Carrie Underwood seems like a very classy gal."

Lindsay shook her head and added, "I have vivid fantasies about a lot of girls I see in my everyday life, too. Not just celebrities. I have wanted to be with another girl for the longest time. I think ... I think I was attracted to girls before I was boys. I ... I have so many different thoughts ... and fantasies." Lindsay's face went beet-red as she went on, "I ... I cannot believe that I am talking so open and candidly about my attraction for other girls with you. I have never told anyone about my fantasies like this."

Trish smiled and winked an eye at her. "I want to be the one who makes your dreams come true. I would be HONORED."

Lindsay gulped her throat, then pointed toward the nearby restroom. "I think I'm gonna take a bath in the jacuzzi. Never been in one of them before." She smiled at Trish and added, "I'm only staying in there for a half-hour, though. I'm really tired. I cannot believe that it's almost midnight. I never flew quite so far in an airplane before. I don't even like being in them. Amy said her ears were popping. So were mine, unfortunately. They were popping like crazy!"

"Do your religious beliefs make you believe that sex is a bad thing?" Trish wondered. "Sex outside of marriage, eh?"

Lindsay nodded her head. "Yes. It was instilled in me by my parents that I should save myself for marriage. My oldest sister, Jennifer, waited until her wedding night. She was 22 then. My other two sisters, Gina and Alison, did not wait." Lindsay frowned again. "Allison is younger than me. She is 16 and has already been with three boys."

"Does that make you jealous?"

Lindsay contemplated Trish's question for a moment, then nodded her head in a shy manner. "Sometimes I think about what it would be like. Alison has told me ... some stories."

Trish smiled at her. "Oh yeah? What type of stories?"

Lindsay gulped her throat. "Alison tells me of the many things that she does with her new boyfriend." Suddenly, the 18-year-old looked very agitated. "If it is God's will for me to save myself for my wedding night, then why do I have the feelings and desires that I do? Why does listening to Alison and her stories about Eric make me ... umm ... uhh..."

"What?" Trish insisted.

Obviously overcome with a sudden rush of embarrassment, Lindsay eventually admitted, "Hot. They make me feel hot."

Now, Trish was smiling from ear-to-ear. She had just managed to get Lindsay to confide something in her that no one, with the possible exception of Alison, had ever heard her say before. "Having sex is not a bad thing, honey. I have never been married, but I've had sex with five people in my life - three men and two women. It does not make me a bad person. I KNOW that I am a good person. I also know that no matter what, I will go to Heaven when I die. Heaven would be a sparsely populated place if it only consisted of people who waited until their wedding night to have sex."

Now, Lindsay appeared to be so incredibly flustered that she was actually trembling. "I'm gonna go take my bath..."

Suddenly worried, Trish sat up in her own bed and implored to her room-mate, "I didn't mean, honey, to make you feel one bit uncomfortable with what I said. You gave me your views on sex. I gave you mine. That is all."

"You did not do anything wrong," Lindsay assured Trish. "Nothing at all. I just ... I have been thinking about this day for the past three months. Ever since Jeremy said he had accepted my application and was bringing me to the island, I knew this would be the place where I would lose my virginity. Now that I'm finally here, I ... I ... I don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"I need to come to grips with what will happen here," she explained. "Look at the other girls here. Pamela is a stripper. She has been a stripper for over 11 years. My mother would freak out if she knew that I was hanging around with a stripper. Look at Amy. She told me on the airline flight that she has sex with FIVE GUYS AT ONCE every weekend. I heard that Camille has a group of girlfriends back home. I ... it seems to me that I'm the odd one out here. I have no experience. You have been with three guys and two girls, Trish. I am sure that Devon has had her fair share of lovers, too. Plus, all of you are so much older than me. Jeremy is the oldest one of you all. He is more than twice my age. Jeremy ... Jeremy ... Jeremy ... is only eight years younger than my father." Ouch, I said inwardly. "Trish, I ... I feel ... I feel so out-of-place. I feel so different!"

Lindsay vehemently shook her head and fussed, "Look at that shirt Amy had on at the meeting earlier tonight, with those ... those ... those AWFUL WORDS!" Obviously, Lindsay was referring to Amy's _Filthy WHORE_, _Sin For Sale_ tank-top. "I would never be caught DEAD wearing something like that! I feel ... I feel so out-of-place here. So out-of-place! I ... I ... all of the girls seem so entirely different than me."

"There is no reason for you to feel out-of-place, honey," Trish countered. "Everyone has to start somewhere. And I love the fact that you are still a teen-ager. I am a good 12 years older than you - 30 - but I never want you to feel out-of-place when you're with me. What I want is for you to feel comfortable and at ease. I want to be your friend. I am pretty easy-going and can relate to anyone at any age. My younger sister, Melissa, is close to your age. She is 20, and probably looks at me as her best friend. I think that I am a pretty cool and sensible gal, and I can relate. I can. Believe me, I have nothing but your best interests in mind. I want you to feel as if you could trust me with anything."

Lindsay swallowed hard. "Like my virginity?"

Trish nodded her head. "If your virginity is something that you would be willing to give to me, Lindsay, I cannot tell you how much of an honor and a privilege it would be for me." Lindsay lowered her head and blushed a crimson red yet again as Trish added, "I would treat it as such, too. I would make you feel so incredibly special, so wonderful. I would make it better than you ever dreamed possible. That much, I promise you. 100 percent satisfaction, guaranteed."

Lindsay was so disoriented now that it seemed as if she could not offer a single word in response.

"But I am not going to coerce or try to talk you into anything," Trish quickly advised her. "Whomever you decide to have your first time with, sweetheart, the choice will be up to you. I want what you want. As long as you are happy, Lindsay, _I_ will be happy. Please remember that."

Still embarrassed and flustered, Lindsay glanced upward and made momentary eye contact with Trish. "I will."

"Can I ask you something, eh?"

"Sure," Lindsay replied, her eyes cast downward again.

"You mentioned the fact that Pamela is a stripper, and your mom would not like the fact that you were hanging around with one," Trish began. "You are very religious. Does Pamela being a stripper make her a bad person? If the answer is yes, I will keep it to myself. I will not tell Pamela, or anyone else. You can trust me."

Lindsay took a deep breath and sighed. "A week ago, I would have said yes. But now ... I'm not so sure. Pamela is so nice and friendly. She told me to come to her if I ever needed any help or advice. She ... she seems way too nice to be a stripper. I have a hard time imagining her that way. She was so nice to me on the boat ride from Lima to here. You were nice too, Trish. I ... I really appreciate that. Strippers ... I imagine them as jaded and hard-looking ... like those you see on television talk shows. Alcohol and drugs, marijuana. But Pamela is so beautiful. She looks like a professional model if you ask me, not a stripper. She is smart, too! She is part of _Mensa_. I would not think that many strippers are qualified to be in _Mensa_. Did you see how fast Pamela filled out those _Sudoku_ puzzles on the boat? She did them in no time flat!"

"I happen to think that Pamela is a sweet girl," Trish commented. "I sat next to her on the flight from Miami. I certainly would have never pegged her as a stripper. But Pamela is nowhere near as sweet as you are, Lindsay."

With that, the young minx bolted up from her private bed and declared, "I'm DEFINITELY going to take my bath now."

Trish grinned and waved at Lindsay as she made her way into the restroom. "Have fun in the jacuzzi..."

Of course, with Lindsay stepping into the restroom and triggering its motion detector, the corresponding monitor here within the voyeur room came to life. After closing the door, Lindsay went over to the tub and turned its water on. She adjusted its temperature to her liking and then allowed the tub to begin to fill with water. A moment later, the little blonde leaned against the sinktop and began tugging at the feet part of her pajama bottoms. Decision time...

What should I do? I was presented with the opportunity to sit back here in my voyeur room and watch Lindsay peel away her entire pajama suit from her heavenly body, only to then submerge herself into the luxurious whirlpool bathtub.

Of course, I could throw another descriptor onto that body of hers, too - virginal. Lindsay was a virgin and thus, no one had ever been blessed with the sight of her nude body before. But the moment was here. I had a one-in-a-billion chance of eavesdropping on an untouched virgin as she took a bath. Lindsay would not have the faintest clue that she had an audience. No one, in fact, would know. No one except me. All I had to do was sit back, and watch...

It should not come as any shocking surprise that the very moment Lindsay began to tug her pajama bottoms downward, I temporarily deactivated the camera in the restroom, thus causing the monitor in front of me to go blank. There was not even a millisecond of debate about that within my mind.

I simply could not bring myself to spy on Lindsay in such a private moment. Until she was comfortable sharing her body with others, it would not be right of me to eavesdrop on her as she took a bath. I could never do that to a virgin.

But none of the other ladies here were virgins.

Back in their guest suite, Trish was eyeing the closed restroom door while gently caressing and prodding each of her large, beautiful breasts with an open hand through the t-shirt that she wore. Judging by what had transpired thus far, it was obvious that Trish wanted the opportunity to get to know Lindsay. I got the sense that she actually wanted to care about Lindsay as a person. But by watching her now on the surveillance monitor, I could easily tell that Trish had a _serious_ physical attraction for Lindsay, too.

Trish's brown eyes were glazed over as she continued to stare at the closed restroom door, while also still rubbing her breasts through the fabric of her t-shirt. There was one thing on her mind, and it was obvious. The 30-year-old was fantasizing about the very thing I chose to forego just seconds ago. What did Lindsay look like when totally nude? Or, perhaps more likely, Trish was contemplating how that little, virgin pussy would taste on her lips and tongue...

Trish let out a long-winded sigh and now used both hands to generously cup and squeeze her breasts. The busty vixen glanced at the door again, then gently murmured, "Oh God ... Lindsay is so pretty." My eyes wide as I watched her, Trish settled down onto the mattress and moaned out in arousal. "She's the sweetest little thing I've ever seen in my life. I want to take her home and play _house_ for the next 50 years!"

Before gliding her right hand underneath the waistband of her shorts, Trish looked at the restroom door yet again. It seemed as if she wanted to make certain that Lindsay would not be stepping out anytime soon. Satisfied for now, Trish groaned out as she slid several fingers between her thighs.

The young woman's body began to squirm and writhe about on the bed, albeit in a gentle fashion, as she twiddled away at her pussy with a bevy of fingers. Her shorts were blue and made of cotton, and were quite a snug fit. Though I could not see Trish's pussy as she massaged it, I followed the plight of her long, supple fingers through the fabric.

"Hmmmmm," she sighed, her knees now in the air and feet flat on the bed. "I want to love that girl so much..."

Inside the voyeur room, I could not resist the urge to withdraw my throbbing cock from my own shorts and feverishly stroke it in the open air. Trish came across as very classy and distinguished, so having the opportunity to watch her as she masturbated in this private moment was very special. It was also incredibly naughty, but I could not help myself.

Trish licked her lips as her actions upon the bed became more animated. Her knees still in the air, those legs were moving as she continued pleasuring her pussy with her right hand. With her left, she traced it across the outline of her breasts. Wow, I said to myself. What a goddess...

I should have felt guilty for spying on Trish, but I didn't. The sexual voyeur in me always won out over my decent, logical side in the end - with the lone exception of Lindsay. Though my voyeuristic side wanted me to, I could not bring myself to eavesdrop on an untouched virgin. All of the other ladies, though, were obviously fair game.

"Let's get off together," I growled out loud in the voyeur room, busily frigging my cock, my eyes transfixed on that one, particular monitor. "Come on, sweetheart. Get yourself off. Get yourself off, and help ME get off, too."

Trish giggled as I said those words. I wondered if she was fantasizing about what it would be like to do the things to Lindsay's sweet pussy that she was now doing to her own. I did not need to wonder. That was obviously on her mind. A whole lot of other things were on her mind, too.

"Hmmmmm..." Trish soon moaned, her movements becoming even more agitated. She was fingering her pussy nice and fast now. Her moans were becoming more prevalent, too.

I almost blew my load as Trish used her free hand to pull a white vibrator out from underneath the pillow. It looked like one of those _magic wands_ which I had saw so many times in adult mail-order catalogs. Trish held the pleasure tool above her face for an instant and giggled to herself. "Why ... it's _Mr. Happy_ time!"

But when Trish began nudging her shorts downward, there was a noise from elsewhere in the suite. Trish jerked about and instantly sat up as if she had just heard a gunshot go off. In reality, it was the sound of the restroom door being unlocked from the inside, then opened.

In her haste not to get caught _in the act_, Trish was able to stash the vibrator underneath the pillow behind her. But her posture was erect and straight, and she had quite the guilty, dumbfounded expression on her face as Lindsay glared at her with a very peculiar, odd look.

"Is everything okay?"

"Oh ... yeah," Trish nodded, her breathing ragged. She tried to compose herself. "Oh ... yeah. I was ... I was ... you ... you startled me! Yes! You startled me! That's all. I was ... I was about to doze off." Trish vigorously shook her head and then did her best to come across as an innocent. "I thought you were going to take a bath, eh?"

With her yellow-duckied pajamas still on, Lindsay pointed toward the suitcase that was perched atop her own bed. "I forgot my hair dryer," she said, that same odd look on her ravishing face. "I ... I think I'll get it now." Lindsay quickly stepped toward the bed and retrieved the hair dryer. She offered Trish one more strange look, then backed her way into the restroom and closed (and locked) the door.

Trish sighed deeply and brought her right hand to her face. She rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, then shook her head and sighed again. "That was close," she breathed. "I need some fresh air." A moment later, Trish rose to her feet and quickly exited the suite.

In the voyeur room, I shook my head as well. I got the impression that Lindsay knew Trish was not being completely truthful with her. But at the same time, I do not believe that Lindsay had any clue that Trish had been masturbating. Even more, masturbating to the thought of Lindsay herself. How could she ever suspect such a thing?

Trish was EXTREMELY lucky that she did not get caught...

The sight of Lindsay in her pajamas - which did nothing but make her appear even younger - coupled with the fact that she was an untouched virgin, made my senses shift into overdrive. I continually stroked my cock here in the voyeur room, fantasizing about what it would be like to take this erection and insert it into that sweet, little mouth of hers. I wanted to deflower Lindsay's pussy more than anything!

On the other hand, I would only do those things to Lindsay if she were to afford me the opportunity. Much like Trish, I was not going to try and sway her opinion toward me at all. I was not the type of person to do such things. But the idea itself? Contemplating the possibility? It was exhilarating.

I may have naughty thoughts, indeed, but I pride myself in being a gentleman and thus, my actions would always be totally pure and sincere. All one had to do is point toward my turning off the hidden surveillance camera in the restroom once Lindsay started getting ready for her dip in the tub. I would feel so very guilty now if I had actually spied on her.

Over the course of a few hours, I had gone from Pamela being my favorite to Devon, and now Lindsay. Yes, Lindsay was my new favorite. There was something to be said about her sweet innocence and wholesome good looks. I found that young and naive aura she displayed to be very magnetic, too.

At the same time, however, I had to be rational about Lindsay and any potential prospects with her. How many girls fresh out of high school would seriously consider a long-term commitment with a 38-year-old man such as myself? Obviously, I had to keep that in mind before allowing myself to become too emotionally infatuated with Lindsay. I was more than twice her age and, even worse, old enough to be her father. That was a definite first for me in my lifetime. Never before had I been able to say that about a woman that I was pursuing. Obviously, it was not something to be overly joyous about.

All of a sudden, however - as crazy as this may sound - Lindsay and Trish were no longer on my mind.

-------

The surveillance monitor which displayed the long corridor outside my personal suite flickered to life, and my eyes went wide at what I saw. Amy was fast approaching my room, decked out in a flirtatious and sexy outfit. She even went right past the glass wall (and all of its shimmering lights) that I spoke of earlier, and paid it no attention whatsoever. It was crystal-clear that she was coming to offer me a visit.

I growled at the sight of the loaded red-head as she took in a deep breath, then knocked on the front door of my suite. I quickly exited the voyeur room and sealed its entrance, obviously not wanting Amy (or any of the other ladies) to know about my secret quite yet. Perhaps in time, I would let them know about it (or perhaps not). But right now? This was definitely not the right time.

I took a deep breath of my own before opening the door and offering Amy my most gracious, friendly smile. Needless to say, she looked absolutely scintillating. I was still sporting a raging, full-blown erection from earlier (thanks to Lindsay, Trish and the voyeur room), and the thought quickly dawned on me that Amy would be a good outlet for it.

I began to contemplate that if a truly perfect woman was sculpted, perhaps it would be Amy. Why not? All I had to was look at her in order to feel this way. Physically fit and shapely at a height of 5-foot-6, Amy literally glowed as she stood before me now. She had a certain, definitive aura about herself which could not be put into words. Those eyes of hers, green and alluring as could be, accentuated the sheer beauty of her face to an even greater extent.

"Hi Amy. What can I do for you? Isn't it a bit late?" Oh, I am certain that I sounded like a bumbling fool to her. I had too many visions of too many things - all of which were good - running roughshod throughout my mind right now.

She reached out and her delicate hand came into contact with my arm. She offered it a squeeze and looked directly at me. "Can I come in for a minute? I gotta talk to you."

"Ummmmm ... sure," I managed to tell her. I felt tingles going up my spine due to the warmth of her hand. "Come in, dear. Make yourself at home. Can I get you a drink?" I was able to collect my senses somewhat and pressed onward, "Unfortunately, I have no alcohol or wine located here. I'm not into that. But how about some orange juice, maybe?"

Amy slipped her slender right arm around mine and stepped into the suite, momentarily guiding me with her. Of course, I offered no resistance whatsoever. Why would I?

Amy said nothing in response as she released my arm and moved further into the suite on her own. Her firm, luscious legs mesmerized me for a moment as they shuffled along with catlike grace. The enchantress came to a halt beside the large, sprawling bed, which was the centerpiece of the suite, then turned her head and offered me an inquisitive glance. As a result, my heart literally skipped a beat.

"Orange juice would be fine," she simply offered.

After pouring her a quick glass of orange juice (easily the quickest glass I ever poured, by the way), Amy smiled as I approached her. Once the distance was closed, she reached out with a single finger and trailed it down the very center of my chest. The gentle, subtle move on her part, of course, sent absolute shockwaves throughout my entire body.

Taking a deep breath, I offered Amy a long stare and almost became lost in her green eyes yet again. I blinked, then re-focused and found myself taking in the wondrous beauty of Amy's face. As she looked at me with a playful glint in her eyes, and took the glass of orange juice with her free hand, I somehow found the will to speak.

"Anything ... I can do for you tonight?"

Amy had a bounce in her step as she spun around in a circle, offering up a beguiling smile to boot. Her eyes then began to focus on the suite, which had millions of dollars worth of collectables and decorations scattered throughout it. Of particular interest to Amy, however, was the 180-degree view of the Pacific Ocean through six floor-to-ceiling, plate-glass windows which wrapped halfway around the bedroom. It was a beautiful spectacle here at night, but even more so in the daytime when there were no clouds in the sky. It was blue for as far as one could see.

I gave Amy another hard, solid look. How I was able to maintain any semblance of thought (and restraint) with her proudly wearing a snug-fitting, blue denim blouse, along with a brown, sassy miniskirt, was beyond my comprehension.

"Wow..." Amy murmured, her green eyes flashing as they fixated on me after surveying the suite. "That sure is some view you have there, Jeremy. All lit-up at night; I can even see the beach below us." She paused and then openly wondered, "Just how much money do you exactly have?"

"Enough, but I'd rather not tell just yet," were my words. "Perhaps in due time, I'll let you ladies in on my secrets. Right now, we're in the _getting to know each other_ stage."

Amy stared at me for several seconds, but said nary a word as she then turned and slowly walked away. Yet again, I found myself totally infatuated with the sight of Amy's tanned, sleek legs as she silently stood with her back to me. The corduroy miniskirt she wore did a remarkable job of highlighting those beautiful legs. It did not take a lot of time before I was blatantly ogling at the mere sight of them. I stepped toward her, wanting to be closer.

Finally turning her head to glance over her shoulder at me, Amy giggled as I continued to gawk at her. She even shifted her weight a couple of times, which did nothing but draw my attention even more toward those immaculate legs.

"Don't you get lonely here, Jeremy, all by yourself?" Amy asked, slowly sashaying off toward the bookcase full of artifacts and historical relics against the far wall. "I mean, before we came ... there was no one here, right? No one but you? You and Louisa, of course?" She took a swig of her orange juice, then put its glass down on a coaster.

"That's right ... just me and the housekeeper. I do have a friend - a lady named Kristanna - who visits me on occasion. But I don't see her quite as often as I'd like to. I am afraid that Kristanna lives halfway around the world."

"I mean, you're a normal man, right?" Amy continued. "I mean, you have ... needs, right?"

I gulped my throat and answered, "Most definitely."

"OH..." the 30-year-old gently cooed, before bending over slightly at the waist to look at an object upon the shelf. Amy pretended to inspect the artifact, but it was readily apparent that her sole purpose in bending over was to get a reaction out of me. She even proceeded to wiggle that shapely, picture-perfect ass of hers in a seductive manner.

"Wow..." Amy murmured, as she bent lower, looking at a new object. "This stuff you have is pretty interesting, Jeremy." I groaned as the goddess raised a high-heeled foot and dangled it about for a moment. It was a very simple move on her part, but also powerfully erotic.

Amy put her foot back down and then bent _even lower_. Now, she was inspecting something upon the bottom shelf. Her legs widespread, Amy was bent over at the waist in her little, brown miniskirt, which was riding high. I quickly realized that she was not wearing anything underneath the miniskirt as her precious, glistening pussy was on full display for my admiring eyes. My entire body was trembling so much that I feared I may just spontaneously combust...

Amy stood up and slowly turned toward me, sweeping her immaculate, free-flowing red hair in the process with her right forearm. "Where did you get that artifact, Jeremy?" she asked, pointing to the piece on the lower right. "It looks so expensive, and beautiful."

Amy waited for an answer, but did not receive one. I was way too distracted to speak. Thus, she bent down once more and inspected the object on the bottom shelf. Again, her miniskirt rode high as I found myself literally drooling at the sight of not only her pussy, but her ass as well. This time, though, Amy glanced back over her shoulder and caught me openly staring at her. As if she did not know already...

Amy stood up one more time, then casually reached behind herself to smooth her corduroy skirt downward. Because this incredible woman had teased and tormented me so much over the past couple of minutes, my cock was bigger and harder than it ever had been before. The excitement level within me had reached monumental proportions, and was still growing.

Amy obviously had no interest in admiring those artifacts and relics upon the shelf. This whole charade of hers was nothing more than a ploy to get me aroused. She succeeded.

"I'm so looking forward to the next six weeks," Amy cooed as she strolled over to a chair, her exquisite, silky-smooth hair coming into contact with my shoulder. I could smell her perfume ... it was lavender. The intoxicating scent flooded my senses, and made my head swoon. Amy then took a seat and offered, "Hmmmmm ... but what a long day I've had. It would be really nice to relax, and unwind for a bit."

Try as I might, but I could not help but to stare at those gorgeous, lithe legs once again. Amy realized what I was doing, then proceeded to very slowly cross her legs - which brought a harsh, excited moan from deep within me. I was like a caged animal waiting to get loose! She had me under her spell, and was no doubt going to take advantage.

"I'd really like for you to fuck me," Amy proclaimed, her voice suddenly very intent and focused.

I shook my head in response to her aggressive words as I began to appraise the rest of her body. Amy had such slender arms and shoulders, but I paused too long to admire her large, heavenly breasts as they jutted outward upon her snug-fitting blouse. Amy's face was absolutely stunning. She had a perfect set of sparkling, white teeth, which accompanied a killer smile. How could I deny her?

Despite the heated state of arousal she had put me in, I suddenly felt mysteriously at ease. Amy was so easy - so comfortable, to be around. She was a true goddess...

"I want you to fuck me, Jeremy," Amy reiterated. My cock began to throb and pulsate within my shorts as she took a deep breath and arched her shoulders back, causing the blue denim top she wore to stretch tightly upon her breasts. My breathed wide, the young woman suddenly dropped to her knees - in a very submissive position - and begged, "Fuck me please."

"Oh my God..." was all I managed.

Even before I could think of what to do or say next, I found myself dropping to my own knees directly in front of Amy. I reached out with my right hand and cradled the side of her face, and held it in a gentle, loving fashion.

"Is this what you truly want?" I quietly asked her. "We just met today. I do not want you to do something that you may regret ... be it later tonight, tomorrow, whenever. You really, truly want to be with me?"

"I do."

I gulped at those words, which made my heart flutter with a sudden mixture of love and devotion. Could I hear those same two words from Amy again in the future? Perhaps next time, with her wearing a white gown in a cathedral setting?

"You don't have to do this," I told her. "I am in no way expecting this from you or any of the other girls here."

"I want to do it," she simply said.

I nodded my head at her. There was no turning back now.

I reached around Amy's luscious body and lifted the hem of her brown miniskirt. Again, she had nothing on underneath it. No G-string, no panties, no nothing. I could see the outline of her lush, perky nipples through the fabric of her blue denim blouse as well. Then, it dawned on me.

"You don't have a bra on either, dear?"

"I hate bras," Amy returned, making a face, in essence repeating what she said to Pamela earlier today in their guest room. "I hate bras. Way too constricting. And I think panties get in the way too much."

"You like showing off your body, don't you?"

"I love it," she replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "I've always been a show-off; a tease, a flirt. I can't help it."

With my left hand, I pulled back the waistband of my shorts while using my right to reach inside and grasp my fully-erect cock. I took it out and jostled it about before Amy's pretty face. Now, it was my turn to be the bold one.

"Is this the reward you have always gotten for being a tease?" I asked her. "A hard cock?"

She nodded her head, her eyes fixated upon my erection. "Yes. That, and some pussy. But I prefer cock."

I grinned yet again. "You're not happy unless you have a cock stuffed somewhere in your body ... correct?"

Amy looked up into my eyes and shook her head. "No, I'm not." I could tell that my words were getting to her. She was becoming turned on - even without me touching her.

"You came here tonight to seduce me. Didn't you, Amy?"

"Yes," she replied, her gaze quickly lowered.

"I think it's time you suck my cock," I simply stated, to which the 30-year-old nodded her head in a submissive manner.

I moved to the edge of the bed, then wiggled my shorts and briefs down to my knees and let them fall to the floor. At the same time, Amy scooted forward and grasped my erection with her right hand. She slapped its bulging tip upon her chin and giggled, then looked up into my eyes.

"You may want to get used to being on your knees for me," I told her, again showing my bold side. "We may like it so much that you do it for the next 40 years. Maybe have three, four kids along the way, and grow old together." Amy sighed at those words as I asked, "That sound appealing to you?"

She nodded her head. "Yes."

I smiled at her. "Me too." Jumping the gun, so to speak, on my part, I agree ... but it was spontaneous, and honest.

Amy did not waste any more time as she used both of her hands to cup and softly knead my aching testicles. At the same time, her slick tongue darted over and around the head of my pulsating cock. Being very gentle, Amy soon switched her hands to the length of my shaft while moving her tongue to my testicles. Now stroking its length, Amy slid and twirled her tongue around my testicles.

I was in my own sense of Heaven right now. I cannot even begin to describe the emotions that were swirling throughout me at this moment in time. Words would never do it justice. And, believe it or not, but I had only been with one other woman in any sort of a sexual sense up until this point. A 38-year-old man such as yours truly, and only one woman in his lifetime. Strange as it seems, but Amy was just the second for me. I could not have asked for anyone better.

Moving her hands and fingers back to my testicles, the eager nymphomaniac captured the very tip of my shaft between her lips and soon began the slow, deep descent.

I moaned and growled as I watched the length of my cock sink further and further between her lush, red lips. I eventually let out a satisfied groan once Amy had engulfed me completely. Her nose and lips pressed against my pubic bone, Amy had taken my entire length into her mouth.

The enchantress was frozen for a short time, obviously enjoying the feel of my bulging cock-head lingering deep within her throat. Then, without warning, her head bobbed upward - until the very tip of my erection was loosely nestled between her lips. Two seconds later, she quickly engulfed and swallowed the entire length of my cock into her hungry, greedy mouth yet again.

Amy used this particular technique for quite some time. At the speed of light, she would jam my shaft deep into her throat. While tickling and playing with my testicles, she would then very S-L-O-W-L-Y ease my shaft almost completely out, until its tip was just between her luscious lips. Then, the maddening process would repeat itself.

When Amy looked up at me, her mouth still full, her green eyes roared with passionate lust once they caught sight of mine. Our gazes now mutually locked as one, Amy began bobbing her head up-and-down at a very gentle, easy pace.

The young woman moaned in delight as I reached down with my hands and caressed her scalp. Running both hands through her silky, red hair, I let out a deep sigh and then thrusted my hips forward - driving my throbbing erection hard and fast into her eager, willing throat.

"I can't take any more!" I exclaimed, out of breath.

Amy immediately steadied herself, gripping the base of my shaft and closing her lips tightly around it. A mere instant later, the eruption came.

As expected, Amy kept her mouth sealed around my cock as I pumped load after load of semen into her. She slurped and swallowed down every last ounce, then removed my cock from her mouth and began licking it dry. Her tongue lashed away at every inch, making sure the moistness was taken care of. She did a very thorough (and excellent) job, too.

Though emotionally drained and somewhat exhausted from the intense height of sweet orgasm, I was not done with Amy. Nor was she done with me.

"We gotta get you out of these clothes," I breathed, reaching forward and unbuttoning the blue denim blouse that she still had on. After whisking it off of her, Amy wrapped both arms around my neck and shoulders, and joined me on the bed. She sat down upon my lap and embraced me lovingly, her warm breath now serenading my neck. She jammed her breasts over and across my chest, obviously enjoying the sensation.

"You don't mind me coming here tonight the way I did?" she whispered, her lips mere inches away from my ear. "I hope I'm not being too forward with you. I just need to get fucked tonight and unfortunately, you are the only man here. I need a cock in the worst way tonight."

"You can be as forward or aggressive with me as you like," I told her, my breathing tense and ragged. Amy had a bright smile on her face, her pretty eyes flashing, as I gazed at her. I cupped her chin with both of my hands, then massaged her lips with both thumbs before pressing my lips to hers for a fervid, exploratory kiss.

My whole body tensed up and I growled like a madman as Amy soon found my tongue with her own, and erotically stabbed away at it. I slipped an arm around her lower back, and caressed her supple waist with a hand. All the while, Amy reached for my deflated cock and began to pump and frig it.

Amy was going through her own progression of moans and sighs as she literally assaulted my mouth with her lips and tongue. The feel of her big, wondrous breasts against me as she pressed her chest hard into mine wave after wave of hot lust all throughout me. I was on cloud nine!

"Tell ME what you want, Jeremy," Amy said in a breathless tone. "Tell me what you want me to do. I want to obey you. I want to make you the happiest man alive ... tonight."

I held back a laugh and wryly countered, "Does this have anything to do with the money you were asking about earlier?"

"It has NOTHING to do with it," Amy responded, her tone and expression honest. "I just want to get fucked. These beautiful girls all around me, anticipating what the summer has in store. Plain and simple, I want to get fucked." Amy offered another beguiling smile as she leaned forward, her eyes never leaving mine. "I am here solely for your pleasure tonight, Jeremy. I want to be your sex slave. I want to make your every fantasy a reality ... tonight."

"How about this, dear?" I countered. "I want to make you happy. Why don't you use me for your pleasure tonight?" It probably was not all that often when someone actually refused a personal offer from Amy to use her as his or her plaything. In fact, I am quite certain that I was the first to do so. But, I am a very unique (and sometimes strange) individual.

Amy looked surprised at the rejection, but stepped forward and attached her lips to mine for yet another heated kiss. I responded immediately by wrapping both arms around her hot, curvaceous body, again pulling her closer and luxuriating in the feel of her firm, large breasts on my chest.

Our mouths still entwined as one - with our tongues dancing - Amy placed a hand upon my chest and gently pushed forward until I was laying on the bed. The kiss between us as she then leaned over and straddled my body intensified once Amy wrapped both arms around my shoulders and clutched them tightly. I could easily get used to this...

I moved my hands to both of Amy's bare breasts and began to eagerly maul them, groping and squeezing the big globes with reckless abandon. Amy tilted her head to the side above me, her tongue running wild and free within my mouth. My only response for that was to literally jam my own tongue down her throat, wanting to forever lose myself there.

"I enjoy a good, hard fuck," Amy purred, as I then moved my lips to her breasts and kissed each succulent nipple. Of course, her words had an immediate impact on me. I felt my cock getting erect again. "Fuck me hard, Jeremy."

I gulped my throat at those words before asking, "But you do enjoy a bit of foreplay before that too, right?"

"Oh yeah," she cooed, my tongue now flicking itself over and across a hardened nipple. "I like it a lot. I'm just not all that used to it ... you know. I prefer my sex HARD."

Burying my face in the lush, deepened valley between her breasts, I moaned out loud while trailing my tongue over and through Amy's scrumptious cleavage. "I like it hard, too, dear. Don't worry ... I'll take good care of you tonight."

Amy's body trembled with desire as I kissed my way from her cleavage to her midriff, and then her abdomen. I paused for a quick moment, tracing the tip of my tongue in circles around her navel before dabbing it inside.

"I like that..." she squealed, arching both her back and neck in response to my forward actions. I twirled her body around and then pinned her beneath me upon the mattress.

After pulling the corduroy miniskirt upward, and bunching it around her waist, my lips and tongue glided lower, only coming to a stop at the silken joining of her thighs. Amy's entire body tensed as I gently extended my tongue and swiped away at her swollen clitoris. I brushed the little nub with my tongue several times before asking in a gentle tone, "How many men and women have been this close to your pussy, dear? Tell me. How many have experienced it?"

"Oh God..." the red-head answered, lost in thought for a couple of seconds. "I think... 37 men, and 11 women. Yes. That is how many people I've had full-blown sex with."

I smiled, thinking to myself that Amy was definitely not a virgin. The bloom went off this rose long ago, but that was perfectly fine to me. "That's an awful lot of partners. You're only eight years younger than me."

"What can I say?" Amy countered. "I'm a slut. I once was gang-banged by 10 men ... all at the same time. I'm a slut! I took them all on, and I still wanted more!"

I moaned wildly at those words while nuzzling her clitoris with my lips and tugging it very gently before countering, "I think that you have a beautiful pussy, dear." I swiped away at the exposed area once again. "Enjoy your sex hard, huh?"

"I certainly do," she grinned, nodding her head.

"Let's make _you_ happy, then."

"I also thought, back when I was in high school, that it was my job to give all of the boys their first kiss." Amy giggled and added, "I gave a lot of them their first blowjob, too. God ... I've probably sucked off over a hundred guys."

"Is that something that you are proud of, dear?"

"Yes!"

Amy grunted with obvious anticipation as I forcefully mounted her in the missionary position. My cock fully hard and erect, I fisted it and prepared for entrance. I used my opposite arm to securely hook Amy's beautiful legs over my shoulders. Then, it was finally time to sink my throbbing shaft into the tight confines of the vixen's little pussy.

I did just so, burying the entire length of my cock into her. And _WOW_ ... did she feel wonderful! It felt as if I had stuck my full erection into a slippery vise, which was trying to squeeze the absolute life out of it.

"Oooooh yeah," Amy growled, already starting to display some heated emotion of her own. "That feels GOOD..."

Her words and noises of loud passion only intensified once I started to thrust myself in-and-out of her. Wasting no time whatsoever, I was hammering away at her voluptuous body as hard as I possibly could from the very onset. This was, needless to say, what Amy wanted me to do.

Amy continued to scream and wail out in approval as she then wrapped both arms around my shoulders. She held on tight as her lovely, enchanting face began to rock from side-to-side in a constant, repeated motion. It was very obvious that she enjoyed rough, physical sex like this.

I was grunting and growling like a wild animal, focusing all of my attention onto Amy and my ability to blast her pussy as hard as humanly possible. I think I was very successful in doing so, too. I knew my hips could not move any faster. Plus, watching the priceless expression on Amy's face as I drilled her pussy was something else.

The nymphomaniac's pussy felt so incredibly tight and luscious on my cock that I really never wanted to pull myself out of it. Would there be a way for me to dive right in there, and never come out? That was my only thought at this exact moment in time.

Amy's slender neck and back were now arched as she continued to cry out in her own desire and passion. The squealy, high-pitched sounds she made, combined with the incredible amount of sexual heat and friction on my cock, was enough to finally push me over the edge of release.

I blasted my way into her incredible pussy one final time before letting out a long-winded growl of ultimate desire. I could feel the thick sperm just pulsing outward from my cock, filling and flooding Amy's hot, thirsty pussy. She squirmed and writhed about beneath me, while continuing to voice and moan out her own, total arousal.

Just when my orgasm had reached its apex and began to simmer down, Amy experienced one of her own. She screamed and embraced me even tighter than before, and then her voluptuous body shook and rumbled about in joyous release.

"OH GOD!" Amy exclaimed, clutching me tightly.

When it was over, my cock was still embedded within the seductress' pussy as I settled down on top of her. I took a deep breath and offered Amy an appreciative kiss, before flashing her a smile. "You were marvelous, dear."

"Oh yes..." she sighed, obviously still caught up in the joyous aftermath of orgasm. "I loved it, Jeremy..."

When Amy slithered out from underneath me and rolled onto her side, I noticed that she had a far-away look in her eyes, with a drop of sperm running out of the corner of her mouth. I reached out and wiped the drop away, then she immediately licked the finger dry I had used to do so. Amy had made me feel so good that my body actually ached.

I smiled at her. "Were you able to unwind for a bit?"

"Oh yes," she replied in an emphatic tone, before getting up and reaching for her blouse. She slipped it on and then buttoned it up, covering her luscious, heaving breasts at the same time. Now suddenly deflated as it seemed she may leave me, my senses then perked up a bit as she leaned over and planted a warm, loving kiss upon my mouth.

"You're not spending the night?" I asked, crestfallen. However, that may not be such a bad thing. I really needed to get to sleep. This woman had totally worn me out.

"I'd love to stay and fuck the night away," Amy swooned. "But I told Pamela that we could stay up tonight, and talk. Pamela logged a good nine hours in the air today just like I did. I want to catch her before she falls asleep."

"Understood," I said, nodding my head. "Remember, though, there is a meeting tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. It is mandatory, so don't stay up too late."

Amy grinned and purred like a kitten. She made a motion to turn and walk away, but apparently changed her mind and glided right back into bed with me. The feisty bombshell settled down on top of me and found my mouth with her own for another incredible, searing kiss. I managed to cop a quick feel or two of her ass, but then she sprung upward and was standing before me. I had a sudden request for her...

"This was ... this was incredible," I began. "Amy, I ... I need ... I need something ... to remember this night. I want to remember it forever." My eyes then focused on that tiny, little brown corduroy miniskirt she had used to tease me so much earlier. "Your skirt. Please let me have it."

Amy had a quizzical expression upon her face. "My skirt? What are you going to do with it?"

"I just want to keep it," was my honest response. "I want it to help me remember this night, and that it happened. This was the most incredible night of my life - bar none. And you are one truly incredible woman."

Amy smiled, but still seemed a bit skeptical. "If I give you my skirt, what will I wear in going back to my room with Pamela? I'll be half-naked going through this big mansion."

"Is that a problem for you?" I laughed.

"You've got a point," she conceded, already slinking the miniskirt down her shapely hips and thighs. Once it hit the floor, the 30-year-old goddess stepped out of it and kicked it upward, catching it with her right hand.

Amy leaned over and handed me the skirt, pressing her lips to mine for one final kiss. She then flashed a brilliant smile and waved her hand at me. "See you in the morning."

"See you in the morning, too," I returned. "Take care, Amy ... sleep well, and tell Pamela that I said hello."

-------

After Amy left my personal suite, I made certain that the door was securely closed and locked behind her, and went straight to the voyeur room. Once there, I turned on the monitor for the camera in my adjacent bedroom. I pressed Amy's miniskirt to my nose and sniffed it, happy that she had given me a souvenir, then loaded up footage from moments ago and salivated at the images I saw.

There I was with Amy - on the television monitor - as her head bobbed up-and-down over my cock. I fast-forwarded and then watched my hips, nearly a blur, as I forged my way into her pussy in a repeated, furious manner. Seconds later, I was filling and flooding her insides with my sperm.

Although all of the erotic footage was archived on my computer system, I burned a DVD copy of the whole encounter anyway. This way, I could watch it someplace other than the voyeur room. It sure would be something to be able to watch Amy's seduction of me on the theater screen in my suite...

The thought then occurred to me that I had witnessed several sides of Amy today. At various times she was nice and friendly (her discussion with Pamela in their suite earlier), while at others she was cold and abrasive (wanting to get Lindsay drunk, for example). She had plenty of wild, brash stories to tell, and obviously craved attention.

After showing up at my door, Amy went from being overly flirtatious, to downright submissive, then finished with an edge that bordered on aggression. What to make of her? Not only did she seem to have a lot of facets to her personality, but Amy could flip-flop between them with absolute ease at a moment's notice. I wanted to learn much more about her...

This was just the ladies' first night on the island. I had six whole weeks to look forward to! Six beautiful women, all of whom were bi-sexual (or at least had the interest), and me. How long would it be before Camille convinced Devon to fulfill that fantasy by inviting me into a three-some with them? Just the simple thought of submerging myself between two ladies with the looks and class of Devon and Camille sent my mind racing with lust.

Pamela was the very buxom and enchanting stripper from Baltimore. Would I one day get lucky, and be the recipient of a _lap dance_ from her? When would Trish make her first move on me? Would Amy blab and inform everyone about the passionate encounter that she and I just shared? I figured that everyone would know about by the morning.

And, of course, I could never forget sweet, innocent Lindsay. She came to the island as a virgin but that, of course, was probably about to change. Who would get the honor of popping Lindsay's virginal cherry? Trish seemed to have the inside track since they were room-mates, but I wanted to throw my hat into the mix, too. I would treat the little angel like a true princess if she were to afford me the opportunity to be the person who took her virginity. Much like Trish, I would consider it to be a great honor. It would be the greatest honor of my life to date, in fact.

All of these questions - and many more like them - would be answered in the coming days and weeks. More than anything else, however, I had to remind myself of why I had brought all of these enchanting women here in the first place. It was not for endless and mindless hours of sex, although, I must admit, that sounded quite appealing.

"To hopefully find the girl of my dreams, and then marry her," I said out loud, glancing at the monitor for Devon and Camille's guest suite. Both lovely ladies were sleeping in separate beds, so I doubt anything happened between them tonight. That was unfortunate, but predictable. Amy was having a discussion with Pamela in their suite, while in room three, Lindsay was already fast asleep as Trish lounged in bed and read a magazine about physical fitness and yoga. Hmmmmm ... I secretly wondered if Trish would meet up with _Mr. Happy_ again before the evening was through.

Deciding that it was time to finally catch some sleep of my own, I shook my head and smiled at all of the images before me. "These six weeks are going to be really fun."

Oh ... and did I mention that Amy was my new favorite?

Feedback is always appreciated!



-------

Chapter 2: Literacy


When I woke up in the morning, I realized that I had not slept this good in quite a long time. The sun was already high in the sky; I looked at the clock and it was precisely 9:15am. I told the collection of ladies last night that our first official meeting would be at 10:00am this morning, so there was an ample amount of time to prepare for it.

I showered and shaved, but did not rush. When I was done, I splashed on some cologne and slipped into a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting shirt. I also found a pair of sandals and exited my personal suite, ready for the 10:00am meeting.

In the dining room, I put on some coffee for the others and poured myself a glass of fresh, delicious orange juice. The girls were drifting in and helping themselves to the fruit and breads laid out on trays which Louisa, the elderly housekeeper, had pulled from the walk-in cooler. Pamela and Camille sipped coffee as the others filed into the room. They were all wearing light attire; such as summer dresses or denim cut-offs and tank-tops. It seemed quite informal.

Once everyone had settled down and found something to drink or snack on, I called for their undivided attention.

"Ladies..." I said, then all of them looked over at me. "Hmmmmm, thank you. Now ... did all of you sleep well?"

Heads nodded and lips smiled. I caught a glimpse of the incredible Amy; there was a dreamy look on her face as she nodded her head vigorously. After last evening, I figured, everything about Amy was quite vigorous. I still felt sore (and very satisfied) from our rip-roaring sexual encounter. The memories of last evening will remain with me forever.

"Great," I announced. "Now, please follow me through the door on the back wall. Inside, is the meeting room."

This would be the first time any of the women had been in this particular area. It was a 20x30 room with a small podium on one end. The side walls were mirrored and the other two walls were covered with soundproof padding. It seemed to be the perfect place to have a get-together.

We entered the room and I immediately went to the podium, where there was a stool for me to sit on. There were seven padded chairs arranged in a curved line, facing the podium. The girls milled around until I invited them to take a seat. Once they did, it was time for me to formally address them.

"It has been a very long trip here but I promise to do everything that I can to make it worth all your whiles. Before I begin, I want to point out to all of you that in addition to living on an island paradise, there is a huge library with books of all varieties, as well as hundreds of DVD discs of movies and other subjects of interest. The sound system is state-of-the-art and there are thousands of CD's and MP3's to listen to. The best place to listen to music, besides your own bedrooms, is the recreation room. Remember, it is downstairs and accessed via the elevator. I have video game systems and powerful computers with full web access located in the recreation room as well. There is also a fully-fledged OmniMAX movie theater located on the other side of the mansion. I have a few movies in the OmniMAX format and if any of you would like a list, all you have to do is ask. It's that simple."

"Do you have any PORN?"

"Amy!..." Pamela playfully chided her.

I laughed, thinking that Amy would fit real well in porn. With her checkered past as an unfaithful wife and an appetite for sexual fulfillment that was second to none, Amy would most likely go really far in the world of adult movies. She seemed quite capable of handling the fast and rigid lifestyle that went along with being an X-rated movie starlet as well.

On the other hand, though, I would never suggest and/or wish that type of career for her. In my opinion, at least, there are far better ways for women to make their money in life. Pornography was clearly at the bottom of my suggestion list. Still, it was an amusing thought nonetheless.

"My first priority is your comfort. It is really my only priority. If there are any problems, complaints or if you would like to see something added that isn't here ... please, by all means, speak up. You have access to everything here."

"Everything?" Trish giggled, looking at my crotch.

"Whatever is here, is for your use," I responded, not letting on that I meant that answer with the same double meaning that Trish had used in her question. Many of the girls giggled, though, easily picking up the hidden meaning. I wanted to come across as serious, yet approachable. Aside from yesterday, this meeting was going to be their first real impression of me. I wanted it to be a good one.

"Are there any more questions along those lines?" Nobody seemed to have one. "Great. Then we can get started." I settled into the stool and rested my feet on its low bars.

"All of you know that you were chosen to spend six weeks here from amongst thousands of applicants. The reason for the choices I made shall remain confidential. As you know, the next six weeks will be six weeks that we spend together. I want this to be the best six weeks of all your lives."

Camille raised her hand, and I acknowledged her with a friendly nod of the head. "I have a question," she said. "Do we always have to obey you? No matter what?"

"Life is about choices," I replied, "and all of you are free to make your own." I paused and then added, "I will not ask any of you to do something that makes you uncomfortable. I do have set rules which we will go over, but none of them should be a problem for any of you. My rules are clear-cut, basic stuff. Common sense stuff. As for OBEYING me, you'll never once have a problem with what I ask of you. Trust me."

"What happens if we do have a problem, though?"

"If you do, let me know," I told Camille. "If any of you have a problem with what I say to you, ask of you or do in your presence ... let me know. I will stop immediately. I do not want any of you to have any reservations or bad thoughts or ideas about me whatsoever. I want your trust. I want all of you to be totally comfortable until you leave. I realize that being here - thousands and thousands of miles away from where you live with no one else in sight - is probably very awkward for most, if not all, of you. I do not want it to be awkward. I want you to feel at ease. There is nothing be feel awkward or cautious about. And, each and every one of you are free leave at any time - for any reason. Just give me the word, and I'll have you home."

"Our comfort is his only priority," Devon smirked.

Camille nodded and surmised, "Sounds fair enough."

"Good," I returned. "Now, where were we? Ahhhhh, yes - we are here for the next six weeks. There will be meetings and required activities but most of the time, all of you will be free to explore the island as you please. Outdoor activity is encouraged, as staying in your bedrooms all day long will be frowned on. Sure ... some days, you may wish to stay inside. But doing so repeatedly will not be good."

"I didn't come here to stay cramped inside a room all summer," Lindsay (my yellow duckie girl (her cute pajamas from last night)) offered. Many of the others nodded in total agreement in response to Lindsay's words.

"Whenever a meeting is called, everyone must attend. Can all of you agree with that? If so, please raise your hand in acknowledgment." Affirmative. "Furthermore, you will find me to be a very easy-going sort of guy. I am quite lenient and for the most part, will let all of you do as you please. As I said, only a few meetings and daily activities will be required. And that's about it ... except, of course, the mansion, grounds and the island itself. Use them as you wish, but do not abuse them. That is really the only type of situation where I would have problems with any of you. This beautiful island is as much your home for the next month-and-a-half as it is mine. Treat it as such. By that, I mean take care of it. Clean, pick up after yourselsometimeves when necessary. Are there any questions?"

"Can you explain the money payouts?" Lindsay asked.

"Certainly. Anyone else wondering about that?" Several of the ladies nodded. "Very well. Let me go over things so there won't be any confusion. As you were informed in the mail, at the end of these six weeks, each of you except one will receive a check for $100,000 in U.S. funds. The one left out will get a check for half a million dollars."

Pamela raised her hand. "But how will that decision be made? I mean, if I wanted to work for the big money ... how would I go about it?" Everyone nodded at that question.

"That is confidential," I replied, much to their dismay. "None of you will know the criteria for it, which makes things interesting." I decided to add a little fuel to the fire. "Perhaps I don't even know the criteria yet, myself?"

All of the girls seemed very confused with that comment. That, of course, was excellent. My plan was in motion...

"How do we even work that OmniMAX theater if we want to watch a movie in there?" Trish asked, breaking the silence. "I LOVE watching movies. I'm a movie buff, actually. I have a whole wall of movies back home in Canada."

"Just come to me, dear, and tell me what movie you want to watch," I answered. "I'll set everything up for you. Come to me with any questions, concerns or requests. I am here to make sure that all of you have the absolute best time of your lives. Anything less on my part is unacceptable."

Devon took a sip of her pineapple drink and cooed, "This island is turning out to be much better than I ever possibly imagined it would be." Wow, I said inwardly. Devon was so incredibly gorgeous. A hot, ravishing blonde with a full D-cup; I thought a body like hers only existed in fantasy worlds. Devon had the prettiest, most innocent blue eyes. Her smile was one part naive, one part playful.

What made Devon even more appealing was the simple fact that she was one of the nicest, most friendly people I ever had the pleasure of coming across in my entire life. Devon was a total sweetheart. She was very easy-going and personable, and had a heart of pure, solid gold. From our short time together thus far, I already knew these things about her. Devon was, in fact, the type of woman whom I had been desperately searching all these lonely years for. Could this angel, perhaps sent from the high heavens, ultimately turn out to be my soul-mate and eventual bride in life? If so, then I would most definitely be a very happy man.

"I want to try all those arcade machines in the recreation room," Lindsay offered. "I just love playing video games."

"You do? Really?" Trish asked her young room-mate, her eyes glowing, as she looked Lindsay's way. "I love playing video games, too." Trish seemed to be absolutely glowing at the news. She and Lindsay had something unique in common. It was fairly obvious that even though they had known each other for less than 24 hours, Trish had a major attraction for Lindsay. Who could blame her for that?

"Let's go down later and check it out!" Lindsay chirped. "I will play video games with anyone!"

"Sounds like a plan!" Trish beamed.

"Are there any further questions?" I waited, but there was only silence. I stole another glance of dazzling Devon before saying, "Thank you, ladies. That will be all for now."

"What about that hike you promised us?" Pamela wondered. "You said you were going to take us on a tour of the island."

"Indeed, I did," was my response. "In a couple of hours, perhaps at two o'clock ... yes, two, I'll lead anyone who is interested on a hike to the most majestic waterfall on the island. It's a long, tiring hike, so wear some good boots. Trust me, though ... the long hike is well worth it."

"We're all interested in going," Trish nodded.

"I don't have any hiking boots," Camille fretted, pouting. "I forgot to bring them with me."

I smiled at her and commented, "It's okay, dear. There are plenty of extra boots and shoes - in all sizes - tucked away in the storage room. You'll find a pair in there. It is located behind the closed door in the recreation room."

"You really thought of everything, huh, Jeremy?" Devon grinned. "You even got us some extra boots and shoes. Wow."

"Of course I thought of everything," I told her. "I want everything on the island to be perfect for all of you. I really cannot stress that enough."

"We're off to an excellent start," Devon smirked, before stepping forward and planting another delicate kiss on my cheek. This lovely, curvaceous creature had done me the same honor last evening at the opening reception. This time, however, her friendly kiss was not that big of a surprise to me. Still, I enjoyed it greatly. What normal man would not enjoy a heartfelt kiss from a woman as enchanting as Devon?

I did throw a quick glance toward Amy, though. She was the first (and thus far, only) woman in the group who had gotten her clutches into me. Of course, that happened after the informal reception party last evening.

I was curious as to whether or not Amy would show even a hint of jealousy because Devon had planted that kiss on my face. Fortunately, she did not. Amy still had that far-out expression from earlier as she lovingly gazed my way. It was like she was in a different world, or something. I must have done something right last evening during our encounter. I still have quite vivid memories of her warm, amazing mouth wrapped around my cock, sucking and slurping away...

"If we're allowed to do pretty much what we want, this is going to be a GREAT summer!" Lindsay sparkled. The sweet and lithesome teen-ager took a cue from Devon and grazed the side of my face with a whispery kiss of her own. She then stepped back and offered me a tender, sweet smile. I believe that Lindsay was surprised at her very own action of kissing me. It was quite a bold move on her part, indeed.

Trish grinned and placed a reassuring arm around Lindsay's shoulder, then cooed something into her ear. Lindsay nodded and smiled sheepishly in response, while looking at me. Her face also turned red in the process. Lindsay was a doll!

Her kiss was obviously nice and well appreciated, but the thought crossed my mind that Lindsay's soft, succulent lips looked absolutely perfect for oral sex. They seemed ripe, and ready. Very ready. I realized that it was terrible of me to think that way considering her virginal innocence, but I simply could not help myself. I wanted to slip my cock into that tiny mouth of Lindsay's and have her suck me off from now until the end of eternity. Yes ... I was awful!

"Where's my kiss?" Pamela asked, her tone insistent, as she gazed my way with a playful expression.

I was about to invite Pamela to come and get one from me, but Amy stepped in front of her and said, "Here it is."

Along with the other ladies, I watched with interested eyes as Amy pressed her lips to Pamela's mouth for a deep, probing kiss. Amy held onto the back of Pamela's head as their velvety tongues then began to swipe away at each other between their pressed mouths. Pamela let out a gentle sigh and seemed to sag against Amy for a moment as the aggressive red-head placed a hand on her shapely ass and squeezed it rather harshly. Pamela really seemed to enjoy that.

I should also point out that Lindsay's reaction to this public display of affection was most amusing. She simply stood there and watched with wide eyes as the lusty duo of Pamela and Amy literally assaulted each others' mouths with their lips and tongues. Obviously, this was the first time that Lindsay had ever witnessed two beautiful women kiss one another before her very eyes. She certainly seemed to enjoy it, however - as did everyone else (myself included).

Once the erotic kiss was broken, Amy took a step back from Pamela and then smiled at Lindsay and her bewildered, shell-shocked expression. Amy shook her head and let out a playful sigh, then swooned, "Lindsay, have you ever seen anything quite like that in Bible class?"

The little minx turned beet-red with embarrassment due to those words and shook her head in a diffident manner. "No ... cannot say that I have. My church ... it would frown ... it would frown on the idea of two women kissing ... like that."

"Spoil sports!" Camille huffed.

Pamela nodded her head. "Churches are against the idea of same-sex relationships. Many of them even have programs to rehabilitate people who are either homo-sexual or bi-sexual." Pamela smirked and added, "When I was 20, I had a friend who was heavily involved in the church. He tried his best to get me to stop stripping. But I never listened to him. I was already living on my own, and the money was too good."

"Have you ever thought about being a stripper?" Amy asked Lindsay in a teasing voice, obviously wanting to get another reaction or two out of her. Her face still flushed red, Lindsay shook her head several times in succession.

"I bet that you would make a really good stripper," Amy continued, still pestering her. "I'd pay really good money for you to grind that little ass of yours all over my lap."

Now, Lindsay was squirming and fidgeting about in what was obviously a very uncomfortable state. Amy had gone too far.

"Amy..." Trish murmured, wanting her to stop the teasing.

But Amy was not finished. "I would pay even MORE money if you opened your legs and let me taste that sweet pussy. I'd happily spend all of my money on a girl like..."

"AMY!" Trish snapped at her, suddenly angry. "STOP IT!"

Needless to say, the young and fertile-minded blonde was incredibly embarrassed and flustered now. No one had ever spoken to Lindsay in such a manner before. That was obvious. The poor girl looked ashamed as she cast her eyes downward. Her body was trembling, too! Obviously, Amy had accomplished her goal. She wanted this type of reaction from Lindsay. This was the side of Amy that I did not care for one bit.

"Put a sock in it, Amy!" Devon snapped, also quite miffed. Devon tried to reach out and place a reassuring hand on Lindsay's shoulder, but Trish pulled her away at the last possible instant and held her with both arms. At the same time, Trish shot Amy quite the evil, displeased look.

"You have quite a mouth on you, Amy!"

Lindsay found comfort in Trish's warm and caring embrace. She buried her lovely face on Trish's shoulder and seemed to use the Canadian's entire presence as a shield to ward off the sneery barbs and chuckles from Amy.

It appeared as if Amy was finally going to keep quiet for the time being. But just in case, I decided to throw my own two cents into the mix by saying, "That's enough teasing for now. Let's go back out to the dining room and finish our breakfast before the food starts getting cold."

Trish quickly ushered Lindsay out of the meeting room, with the trio of Devon, Pamela and Camille following them in tow. Amy would have been the last to leave, but I latched onto her wrist and tugged gently just as she turned to walk away. The 30-year-old looked back over her shoulder at me with an inquisitive expression as I grinned at her.

"I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed what happened between you and me last evening," I informed Amy. "Believe it or not, but it was one of the most incredible experiences of my life." I smiled again and added, "You were wonderful."

Amy's face suddenly lit-up as she turned fully toward me. "Really? Do you mean that? I was ... wonderful?"

I nodded my head. "Of course I mean it." After a brief hesitation, I extended both arms and offered Amy a loving embrace. She felt magnificent all nice and snug within my arms. The warmth of her body was quite therapeutic to my soul. When our hug was over, I was shocked to find Amy was the one blushing now. Although it was slight and did not last all that long, Amy certainly blushed. I saw it.

"Is everything okay?"

Amy glanced downward for a moment, then flashed me a warm and genuine smile. "Everything is fine, Jeremy. Just fine. In fact ... things have never been more fine."

I put my hand out to her. "Let's go have breakfast."

The shapely red-head accepted my hand and agreed, "Let's."

As we walked out of the meeting room, Amy leaned upward and pecked the side of my face with a kiss. I could not believe the sudden change in her personality. She went from relentlessly teasing and prodding Lindsay with her words, drawing the ire of Trish in the process, to being humble and appreciative for the simple act of receiving a hug from me. Then, I recalled that the profiler program on the computer stated that Amy may have Cyclothymic Personality Disorder.

Similar to Bipolar Disorder, but not quite as severe or as potentially dangerous, Cyclothymic Personality Disorder is a chronic mood disturbance where a person can fluctuate from feeling energized and full of life to experiencing bouts of depression moments later. Worst of all, nothing specific has to occur for the sudden shift in mood to take place. It can also be applied to feeling happy and talkative, or overly gracious, to acting highly irritable with reckless words and thoughts a short time later. While in this state of mind, the person has very little or no regard toward the feelings of others. He or she might say hurtful things to friends or even loved ones, and then not realize the ramifications of those words and verbal jabs until hours or even days later.

Although I had known Amy for less than 24 hours, I got the sense that she could very well suffer from Cyclothymia - or perhaps a different, but similar, mental health disorder. In my mind, at least, Amy seemed to have several of the symptoms associated with this illness. There is help available, but only for those who step forward and actually want the help. A powerful medication, Lithium, is used to help stabilize a person's mood and everyday feelings.

It seemed to me that it would benefit Amy - and those in her daily life (such as the other ladies and yours truly) - if she were to seek counseling and be placed on a medication program. Having known her for less than an entire day, I thought it would be out of line for me to suggest that Amy seek professional help at this point in time. As I got to know her more, though, and if we became closer as friends and perhaps even lovers, I could make the suggestion to Amy in the future. I only had her best interests in mind. Something about Amy was ... not right.

If it seemed that I had a vested interest in this, I did. I had a mental disorder of my own - Dysthymia. Classified as an illness which includes constant feelings of mild to moderate depression, Dysthymia all but crippled me from the ages of 19 to 34 because I refused to seek treatment for it. It was not until I met a woman by the name of Kristanna - who would eventually become my best friend - that I went to see a psychotherapist over in Peru who placed me on a daily dose of the antidepressant drug Effexor. For the past four years, I had been taking 225mg of Effexor (three tablets) daily.

Although the medicine did not eliminate the daily symptoms of Dysthymia completely, I can attest that I am a million times better off today for taking it than I was four years ago before Kristanna convinced me to seek professional help. I had the feeling (hope?) that a similar story could be told for Amy if she were to take that first step toward wellness and a visit a doctor. I would gladly pay any medical fees...

-------

Most everyone was anxious to walk down to the beach and take a dip in the ocean after our meal was completed, so I decided to let them do their thing while sneaking back up to my private suite. Due to the kiss she earlier placed on my cheek - and the light-up-the-darkest-room type of smile that went along with it - Lindsay was in a running derby with the likes of Devon and Pamela as I contemplated which of the ladies was my early favorite. It was much too close to call.

At this stage, could I go wrong with any of them? Lindsay had the innocent look going for her, which I found to be extremely tempting. She had earlier come to breakfast with her immaculate, long-flowing blonde hair tied into a bushy pony-tail. Lindsay looked to be no older than 14 or 15, though her actual age was 18. That was extremely tempting for me. So was her very nubile, lithe and slender figure.

Pamela, on the other hand, had the top-heavy look of a seasoned stripper, which was quite fitting, because that was how the 30-year-old had made her living for the past decade. She had a spectacular body, but also seemed extremely down-to-earth and likable. In fact, Pamela came across as somewhat quiet and reserved. Perhaps as she and I got to know one another better, Pamela would open up to me as well. I found myself very interested in her as a person.

Everything about Devon thus far seemed to indicate that she was a goddess in every sense of the word. It was also clear that the 27-year-old from Pennsylvania was candid and honest with her feelings. I still got butterflies in my stomach as I thought back to last evening, when the lovely, voluptuous blonde planted that tender kiss on my cheek out of nowhere. It really surprised me, and caught me off-guard. Needless to say, I was quickly developing a very deep and powerful appreciation for Devon as well.

Obviously, there was no way that I could go wrong if I chose my favorite from these three women. Lindsay was so fresh and wholesome, while Pamela was the mature and reserved woman of the group. Devon was obviously very straightforward and open with her feelings and thoughts, which was a quality that I greatly appreciated. I loved honesty.

Of course, I was not about to sell Trish or Camille short, either. Trish was a certified fitness instructor whose physical attributes rivaled those of Pamela's. My problem thus far with Trish was that the interaction between us had been very brief and limited. Still, Trish was very friendly and elegant. It seemed every time I had looked her way thus far, she was smiling brightly. Perhaps that was because Lindsay was always with her? If only one thing was certain on the island thus far, it was that Trish had a definite attraction for Lindsay. Again, who could blame her? But in the process, Trish seemed to be oblivious to everyone else on the island - including me. I wanted to change that. Trish was clearly the type of woman who would be worth investing a lot of time and effort into pursuing a relationship with. That feeling, though, had to be mutual.

According to the discussion she had with Devon last night, Camille did not fully trust me - or my intentions - yet. I certainly understood her concerns, though she seemed to be the only one who had doubts as to whether or not my motives for the upcoming six weeks were good and genuine. I would have to earn her trust over the following days and weeks. The best way for me to do that would to simply be myself.

Of course, I was not about to dismiss Amy from my list of potential favorites. A self-proclaimed slut, Amy was easily the most forward and aggressive of the group when it came to anything sexual. I could still visualize the sight of Amy from last evening, when she appeared at the door of my suite wearing that little blouse and miniskirt, with a smile on her charming face. She had an incredible body. Or how about earlier yesterday, wearing the Filthy WHORE, Sin For Sale top? I will never forget the image of Amy in that thing.

Amy was quite opinionated, which should be fairly obvious by now, and not afraid to speak her mind. Amy did overstep the boundaries with what she had just said to Lindsay. There was no doubt about that. But did Amy know any better? I got the sense that Amy had been saying things like that to people throughout her entire life. It seemed to me that Amy enjoyed shocking others and getting reactions out of them.

Still, I liked Amy. There was a good and genuine person lurking underneath all of that aggression ... somewhere. Would medication help bring that person to the forefront, so I could meet her? Or would a healthy dose of tender loving care do the trick? Either way, I was hell-bent in looking past whatever problems Amy had. I wanted to get to know her as a person. We seemed to have a lot in common.

I could easily picture myself falling endlessly in love with any of these six women. All of them had qualities and characteristics that were very near and dear to my heart. What I had to figure out over the next six weeks was which of them appealed to me the most. That was going to be tough.

As I briefly mentioned in the prior chapter, my ultimate reason for bringing these women to the island with me was so I could, hopefully, find someone to eventually settle down with, and marry. I will expound upon that in the future.

-------

While sipping a glass of fruit punch inside my personal suite, I suddenly came to the conclusion that at least for now, Pamela had reclaimed her spot as my favorite lady. I went to sleep last evening thinking that it was Amy, but had now done an about-face and went back to my original favorite.

I could not get the image of Pamela's charming face and magnificent body out of my mind. The thoughts were haunting me and causing my cock to stir within my shorts once again. I took a big swig of fruit punch, hoping it would settle and heal my rattled nerves. Unfortunately, it failed.

I inhaled a deep breath and then decided to venture back into the nearby voyeur room. All of the monitors which surveyed the guest suites were blank, indicating that none of the ladies were in them since the system was triggered with the use of motion detectors. That was excellent. I wanted everyone to stay active and not dwell in their rooms.

The monitor showing the west beach was registering activity, as well as the exercise room and library.

For now, I decided to focus on the beach. I zoomed in with my hidden camera and noticed that the trio of Devon, Amy and Camille were all running along the shoreline, splashing each other with water and having an overall good time in their teensy-weensy bikinis. I quietly wondered to myself if the bikinis would eventually come off, and these three ladies would go au natural. That was a pipe dream on my part, I figured, however.

It was a bit surprising to me that Trish and Lindsay - both of whom I thought would definitely be at the beach - were now in the exercise room. Trish was putting her body through a good workout on a nautilus machine while Lindsay sat on a nearby bench, watching her and idly chatting away.

Trish was quite the fitness freak, I guess, so perhaps she and Lindsay stumbled across the gigantic exercise room and the Canadian could not stop herself from trying it out. There were so many machines and free weights that it could easily pass for a five-star fitness center.

Lindsay was so small and frail that I had a difficult time trying to imagine her lifting any sort of weights. If anything, perhaps Trish could bench-press Lindsay herself! That sure would be a definite sight to see...

On the monitor which displayed the expansive library, Pamela was seated at a table, wearing neat, wire-trimmed glasses and looking as desirable as ever. She seemed very interested in her book, although I could not tell exactly what it was. The question then crossed my mind as to why Pamela was all by her lonesome in the library. Hmmmmm...

All of the other ladies were keeping one another company elsewhere on the island, so I decided that I would try my hand at offering Pamela some as well. Not only was she my current favorite, but Pamela was all by herself. It stood to reason that if I sought anyone out at this point in time, it would have to be Pamela. Right? Thus, after sealing the secret entrance to the voyeur room, I left my personal suite and quickly wandered off toward the library.

When I got there, I was vividly reminded of Pamela's immense beauty once again. Never before did I think that a woman could look this luscious while wearing glasses. In a strange twist - at least for me - I actually thought that Pamela looked better with her glasses on instead of off. They gave her even more of a classy, worldly appearance.

Of all the women here - for whatever reason - the one that I seemed to respect the most thus far was Pamela. I believe it was due to the fact that I got the overwhelming sense that she was so much better - in so many different ways - than your prototypical, garden variety stripper.

Unfortunately, the 30-year-old was far too interested in her book. She did, however, look up long enough to offer me a friendly nod and a smile, but then went right back to reading. In a way, I felt deflated. Pamela was far more interested in her book than she was in talking with me...

I took a painful sigh and moved on from the library. I should not feel too bad, I convinced myself. Perhaps Pamela was one of those people who enjoyed throwing her absolute heart and soul into a book, and did not want to be disturbed. Hopefully, I would be the object of her undivided attention sometime soon. I would like that very much...

Adjacent from the spacious living room was the sliding glass door, which led outside. I decided to take that route while getting rid of my shirt. Then, I dove head-first into the pristine, infinity-edged pool and began swimming several laps back-and-forth. Not only was this good exercise for me, I told myself, but it was also a tremendous amount of fun. Swimming was one thing that I definitely enjoyed.

The outdoor pool was one of my favorite spots to simply kick back and relax on the whole island. Believe it or not, but the pool had no walls. It featured a gently sloping entrance on all four sides which mimicked a beach in both looks and feel. From a distance, this design element gave the illusion of water flowing off the edge of the pool (in reality, the water went through a series of drains where it was re-circulated). The vanishing edge effect of the pool was quite dramatic here on the island, since it overlooked beautiful, sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean. When looking at the pool from the right angle, it appeared as if the water emptied out into the ocean in the distance.

The pool also featured several fountains which created a sound shield and helped keep the water clean. Intermittently squirting fountains near the north entry of the pool were a definite joy to watch. Fountains coming from antique Greek urns made an elegant, timeless statement. Laminar flow fountains shot a stream of water through the air about the size of a person's finger. The water held together and created a moving, liquid tube which carried the glow of fiber optic lighting. Lastly, two foaming fountains mixed water and air for a frothy, mushroom-type effect.

As you can most likely tell, I had invested a lot of time, money and effort into creating what was - at least for me - the perfect pool. It had been three years in the making. I really do not see how the pool could be any better than this.

After coming up for a much-needed breath here in the huge mass of water, I noticed Pamela standing just outside the sliding glass door. I was delighted! Did she want to strike up a conversation? Now the one watching me, Pamela clasped both hands together at her waist and leaned against the door. She was dressed in a pair of denim cut-offs and a silky blouse. Her glasses, however, were a thing of the past.

"Hi there," I greeted her, wanting to sound as friendly as possible. "Had enough of your book?"

"For now," she responded, her brown eyes studying me. "I thought I would look in and see if you were skinny-dipping. I see you're not." Pamela grinned at her own words.

"Were you hoping?" I teased her.

She laughed. "Is that why you wore swimming trunks?"

"No. I have my reasons."

"Like getting us naked?"

I grinned sheepishly. "Something like that."

"Or maybe having sex with all of us?"

My eyebrows raised at those words. "Sounds good to me."

Pamela giggled. "This will be an interesting summer."

"Actually, it's the winter," I advised her. "We're near the equator, remember? It is winter-time right now in this part of the world. Yet, it's still swimming weather."

"That's good to know," the blonde smirked. "It wouldn't be as fun right now if we went around dressed like Eskimos. Winter in late May ... what a concept."

I swallowed hard as Pamela shifted her weight from one foot to the other. It was a subtle move on her part, but also powerfully erotic to my adoring eyes. I wondered if she did that on purpose to get a reaction from me? "You have a good point. Hey there, dear ... want to go for a swim? I must say that the water feels absolutely perfect."

Pamela grinned, but shook her head. "No, not right now. Maybe in a little while, but not now."

I held back an evil chuckle before telling her, "I'll go skinny-dipping with you if you want me to. Of course, you will have to go skinny-dipping too, you know."

She laughed. "I think it's time I go back to my book."

"What are you reading?" I tried to keep the conversation going, but Pamela quickly turned and went right back into the mansion. She looked over her shoulder and first gave me a smile, then a wave, before disappearing around the corner.

The mere sight of Pamela's lush ass in those tight denim shorts; I hated to see her leave, but LOVED to watch her go!

The conversation with Pamela only added to my sexual tension. I tried to dampen those feelings with a few more laps around the pool, but it was futile. I felt as if I needed to have sex once again. It would be the only way I could get rid of this tension and desire within my body. Where was Amy? She would never play hard-to-get with me. Amy would jump my bones, so to speak, in a heartbeat. Of course, she would probably do the same for a lot of people. Still, Amy seemed to be my only possible outlet right now.

I got out of the pool and dried off, then decided to go back to my suite. I went directly into the voyeur room and just like before, found the same television monitors active. Trish and Lindsay were still in the exercise room, while Pamela was perched at the table in the library, reading.

As I eyed the screen which displayed the picturesque west beach, I could tell that the tide was not as high today as it usually was. Still, the tranquil sound of the incoming waves as they rolled onto the beach was always relaxing. There was not a single cloud in the sky; it was blue for as far as the eye could see. The air there was always soft and pure, and had that tropical smell which was so intoxicating.

The island really had a lot to offer. In addition to the sprawling beaches and various waterfalls, there was the sheer beauty of the forest, the grandeur of a dormant volcano and the breathtaking views atop high-steeped peaks and cliffs.

But few things could compare to the beaches, which were a wonderful place to heal jaggled nerves. I could sit there for hours on end and simply meditate, and feel much better because of it. If I were to stay there all day long, I would later witness the sun sinking into the Pacific Ocean amidst a blaze of glorious tropical colors. That was, without a doubt, the most stunning sight of all on the entire island.

For as beautiful as the beach was, however, it did not even come close to comparing with the trio of Devon, Amy and Camille as they all lay together upon the sun-kissed sand. Much to my delight, all three of the ladies seemed to be deep in conversation. Intrigued, I quickly flipped the hidden microphone on so I could eavesdrop...

"We're all horny, thinking about the summer," Amy mused. I would have to inform her that it was the winter-time, too. Winter in May was a foreign concept to these ladies since they all resided in North America.

"I definitely agree with that," Camille nodded. "We're going to spend so much time with one another over the next six weeks. I really cannot believe it." The 25-year-old tenderly caressed one of her own big breasts and said, "Maybe we're all going to turn into a mob of pussy-hungry lesbians! That wouldn't be such a bad thing..."

Devon laughed and countered, "I may have an interest in women, but I'm surely no lesbian. I love cock too much."

"Have you learned anything more about Jeremy, Devon?" the Mexican wondered. "I know he is a pet project for you."

"I haven't had the chance to speak to him one-on-one yet," she answered. "I hope to soon, though."

"He's going to be the only man we see until we leave the island," Camille murmured. "There is no possible way that he can satisfy all of us. No possible way. I guess in the end, that is maybe what we will have each other for."

"He better," Amy remarked in a stern tone, which made my body shiver with absolute lust. "You don't advertise and insinuate a sex resort without enough cock to go around. If he is the only man we see, he better be prepared to deliver."

"What happens if he is not interested in us?" Camille said to her two friends. "Maybe all he wants to do is watch us have sex with each other. Some guys are like that."

"I guarantee you that he is interested," Devon responded. "I saw the way he looked at us. If anyone wants to fuck him, all they have to do is go up to him and tell him so. It is really that simple. I guarantee it."

Camille shrugged her shoulders, which caused her large breasts to bounce about in an enticing manner. "What about if seducing him is against the rules? I don't want to ruin my chances at the big money pay-out at the end. I don't know about you two, but I could really use a half-million bucks."

"You can always ask, but I don't think seducing him is against the rules," Devon offered, before turning toward Amy. "What about you? Have you gotten anything out of him, Amy?"

The 30-year-old sat up and grinned, "Yes, I did."

Devon raised up as well, and looked at Amy with an eager expression. "What? Tell us."

Amy smiled and replied, "He's one hell of a fuck. That's what I found out - just last night."

"WHAT?" Camille asked, in disbelief. "You said you got something out of him. What was it?"

"One great orgasm. That's what. I'm still all mellow from it." Amy sighed and flipped her silky, flame-red hair away with a single hand, then let out a content sigh.

Devon looked at her for a moment. "You're not kidding, are you? You're quieter today. Tell us about it."

"While Pamela was relaxing in the jacuzzi last night, I decided to put on a denim blouse and my favorite miniskirt, and sneak out of our room and go to Jeremy's suite. I had on a pair of come-fuck-me pumps, too. He met me at the door after I knocked on it." Amy paused for a moment, then smiled from ear to ear. "I could tell that he was devouring me with his eyes. I teased him a little by bending over and pretending to look at things in the bedroom, all the while flashing him my ass. I started sucking him off. His hands were ALL OVER me. We wound up on the bed and he fucked me there." My spine tingled with heated sensations as Amy added, "Oh God ... Jeremy made me feel SO GOOD."

"When I went back to our guest room, I could barely walk," Amy continued. "Pamela asked what was wrong, but I told her that nothing was wrong. I told her everything that happened with Jeremy." My eyes went wide as Amy concluded, "Pamela sucked his cum right out of my pussy. She loved it!"

WHOA! ... My heart began racing with those nasty words. Pamela sucked my sperm right out of Amy's pussy? Intense...

I could envision the scene now. Amy sprawled out across the bed - her thighs spread wide - with Pamela on her elbows and knees, her tongue buried deep in the seductress' little pussy. Oh my ... Pamela extracting a big glob of sperm from Amy's folds, and then swallowing it down her hungry throat. What a perverse, but very exciting thought!

"Damnit there, girl! What are you trying to do?" Camille griped. "Trying to fuck that half-million out of Jeremy?"

Amy looked hurt. "No ... I was just horny for some cock and when I saw that big hard-on in his shorts yesterday, I couldn't resist giving it a try. I needed it so bad!"

Devon made a face. "HEY! What about the rest of us?"

Camille snapped and complained, "Six whole weeks on an island with just one cock and Amy has already claimed it."

"No way!" Devon said. "Amy can't claim it for herself!"

Camille giggled and countered, "You see, Amy ... Jeremy is a pet project for Devon. She really likes him."

"I think all of us like Jeremy," Amy breathed. "He's very nice and sweet. What is there not to like about him?" I smiled as she added, "I wasn't trying to claim him for myself. And it had nothing to do with the money. All I wanted to do was get fucked. I was so horny last night, thinking about what these next six weeks will be like. I was thinking about all of you girls, too."

"How was he?" Devon squealed, with an inquisitive look.

"Wonderful!" Amy gushed. "I haven't had an orgasm like that from a single man in quite sometime."

"A single man?" Camille asked, somewhat confused. "What do you mean? You prefer married men, or something?"

Amy laughed. "No, not exactly. A single man as in ONE man. Back home in Ohio, I'm used to being gang-banged. I have a group of five boyfriends who I see every weekend. They come over to my apartment and basically stuff me full. Sometimes, it can be more than five."

Camille's dark eyes were wide. "Stuff ... you full?"

Amy grinned. "Yes. All at once. Five-on-one sex."

"Hmmmmm," Devon purred. "Sounds VERY intriguing!"

"I've never been with more than one guy," Camille openly admitted. "But where I live, in California, I get together with some friends I had when I was still in college quite a bit. It's me and ten different girls." She grinned and added, "We all get together and fuck each other silly, in big daisy-chains orgies. Talk about fun!"

"Sounds like it..." Devon murmured.

"My favorite part is when we put on blindfolds," Camille continued. "Most of the time, I have no idea whose pussy I am eating, or who is eating my pussy. All I can do is search for the closest pussy, and start licking away."

"That sounds incredibly hot," Amy commented, massaging one of her big breasts with an open palm. She turned toward Devon and said, "What about you, honey? Anything wild?"

"Not really," the luscious blonde replied. "I had a boyfriend for eight years and running, but we broke up a few months ago. I was totally faithful and monogamous to him."

"Oh, you poor thing," Amy squealed, patting Devon on the shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that you broke up with him. Of course, his loss is our gain because if you were still dating him, you would not be here on the island right now."

"His name was Barrett," Devon pouted. "But don't feel sorry for me because the guy was a total jerk. I should have gotten rid of him a long, long time ago. If you want to hear a wild experience about me, I have to go all the way back to high school to tell a story. It's been that long."

"I love stories," Camille grinned. "Tell us a naughty story about something you did in high school, Devon."

The young woman paused before saying, "Hmmmmm ... okay. I had a boyfriend in high school. Let me say that his name was Tim, and he was the quarterback of the football team. I was the captain of the cheerleading squad."

"That doesn't surprise me," Amy snickered. "Blondie..."

Devon smiled and continued, "Well, during one game, Tim was tackled real hard by a defensive lineman or linebacker - I'm not really sure which. But he was roughed up pretty bad, and taken out of the game. I took a little break to go over and see how Tim was doing. He was in a lot of pain and needed some ... help. The type of help that only I could give him. So we snuck off and went under the bleachers."

"I started sucking him off, which made his pain go away just a little bit. One thing led to another, and then we did a full-on doggie." Devon paused and grinned, "It was the most OUTRAGEOUS thing to watch a football game going on right in front of me, while being FUCKED from behind..."

"Underneath the bleachers?" Camille gushed. "With all those fans and spectators above you? You weren't spotted?"

"Fortunately, no," Devon swooned. "But it was intense. It was the most crazy thing I have ever done in my LIFE. I still have no idea how I could have went through with it. I know that I could never do something like that again."

"I bet he fucked you in your cheerleading uniform, too," Amy speculated. "Guys love cheerleaders. I had an older boyfriend once when I was in high school. Actually, a lot older. He LOVED fucking me in my cheerleader uniform."

"Yes," Devon nodded. "Tim wouldn't let me take it off! But once these six weeks are up here on the island, I am certain that I will go home with plenty of wild stories."

Amy giggled. "I think all of us will go home with wild stories. Even Lindsay, a Bible-thumping virgin, is going to leave this place in six weeks with a boatload of experience and adventures. I'll PERSONALLY see to it." Amy licked her lips and added in a devious tone, "It has been my life-long fantasy to corrupt an innocent virgin. Just totally corrupt her beyond any and all reason ... break her will completely."

"Lindsay is a virgin?" Devon countered, very surprised. "How do you know that? Did she tell you?"

"I overheard Lindsay talking with Trish and Jeremy last night at the reception party," Amy answered. "Lindsay was fearful that all of us would find out about her secret of being a virgin." Amy rolled her eyes. "GOOD GOD, Lindsay was whining so much. I wanted to take a dildo and shove it in her mouth and down her throat. It would've shut her up. She was whining like a spoiled, little baby."

Suddenly, Devon appeared to be very uneasy. With what she had just been told, one could definitely understand why. "Whoa! Take it easy there, Amy. If Lindsay is indeed a virgin, we don't need to talk about taking dildos and stuffing them clear down her throat. That's not right."

Camille offered a wicked smile. "I kind of like the idea myself." Amy nodded at her as she continued, "I also heard bits and pieces of what Lindsay said to Trish and Jeremy. I totally agree with Amy. Lindsay was whining. But instead of shutting her up with a dildo, I would have preferred to jam my pussy in her face. I would make that girl lick my pussy until her tongue fell off."

"Like you did to Devon early this morning?"

"Exactly!"

Huh?

Did Devon and Camille have sex with each other earlier? Judging by this discussion, it certainly seemed that way. Last evening, Devon was pretty upset at some of the very straightforward and outlandish things that Camille was saying to her. The idea of them having sex together after Devon stormed out of their guest suite did not seem to add up. However, apparently that was what had transpired.

Devon no longer had to be classified as curious when it came to other women. She was truly bi-sexual now. The next to join that list, hopefully, would be Lindsay.

Although I had missed what happened between Devon and Camille sometime early this morning, I was thankful for the fact that I could go back and re-live it with the voyeur room. I would definitely being queuing up footage a bit later on...

Devon laughed at her friends, then shook her head in denial. "You two girls are terrible. Just terrible. Lindsay is such a sweet, little thing. Remember, all of us were strangers to each other until just yesterday. Lay off of Lindsay for a while. Let her go at her own pace. She is so young and innocent, and very, very shy."

Camille shook her head. "I don't consider any of us to be strangers. All of us may have just met yesterday, but we will be together for six long weeks. With the way that Jeremy has set things up - everyone gets a room-mate, we do daily activities together - there is no time to think of anyone as a stranger. I think all of us are just alike."

"The girls, you mean?"

"Yes," Camille told Amy. "We may be from different walks of life, but we are all in the same boat. My only hope is that Jeremy does not have something sneaky up his sleeve for us." I frowned at those words as Camille kept talking, "He is paying us a lot of money to stay with him. What is it? $500,000 for one, $100,000 for the other five? That's a million bucks. It just seems like he would want a lot more out of us than to just stay here and look pretty for him all summer long. That is what I think, at least."

"What more do you think he would want?" Devon asked.

Camille shrugged her shoulders and answered, "I don't know. Bondage, maybe? Something sick and twisted?"

Amy made a face. "There is no way that Jeremy is into bondage. God, Camille ... lighten up. I had one of the greatest sexual experiences of my life with him last night. This morning, Jeremy gave me a big hug and said how much he enjoyed what happened last night. He was smiling. He was GLOWING. Would a bondage Master or a twisted freak do something like that? Would one act that way? I truly think we are in for more of the same with Jeremy for the rest of the summer. He is the nicest guy that I have ever met."

"Wouldn't you like Jeremy to be into bondage?" Camille asked Amy. "I thought you said you were into that stuff."

"I am," the red-head nodded in response. "But trust me when I tell you that Jeremy is NOT into bondage. I know a dominant man when I see one. Jeremy is not dominant. He is too passive, too easy-going, too sweet. Trust me. I think this island is going to an absolute paradise for all of us. In fact, I would bet my bottom dollar that Jeremy does not even have the slightest clue as to what bondage is."

"I'm not an idiot," were my words, as I looked at Amy on the television monitor with narrow eyes. In fact, I thought inwardly on my own behalf, I have watched a couple of bondage movies over the years. So take that, Amy!

Camille shrugged her shoulders once again. "Maybe ... I don't know. I guess maybe I should lighten up, but I will still have my reservations about this place until I learn more about Jeremy. A LOT more, in fact. It just seems very strange and suspicious he is paying us all of this money. He wants something out of us. I know it."

"It would be another fantasy of mine if Jeremy WAS into bondage, though," Amy grinned, licking her lips for emphasis. "He could gag me, tie me up, degrade me ... and turn me into his personal fuck-slut any old time he wanted! He could keep me on a leash and I'd follow him around like a puppy all day! I'd kneel and beg ... I would even try humping his leg!"

Suddenly, I flipped the audio switch off and took a deep, ragged breath. I simply could not believe what Amy had just suggested! Even though I had very limited interest in the bondage lifestyle, Amy's nasty words and the naughty images they conjured up had not only caused my heart to pound in my chest, but also for my cock to bulge and ache in tremendous lust. Then, throw in all of that talk about virgins being corrupted and cheerleaders getting it on with quarterbacks underneath the bleachers at football games ... I could not take much more of this without going totally insane!

And yet, this was just my second day with these ladies. I could look forward to six whole weeks of this! (!!!!!)

-------

After clearing my senses - at least somewhat - I went back into my personal suite and worked on the order for the next shipment of food and supplies from the catering company in Peru. Basically, I used a telxon gun to scan individual bar codes from the company's order guide. Everything had its own bar code. If I wanted 20 pounds of whole salmon, I had to scan the appropriate bar code with the telxon gun. If I wanted freshly cut rib-eye steaks, ice cream, shampoo, soap, hair brushes and so forth, I had to scan its proper bar code. Then, once I scanned all of the items that I wanted, I uploaded the information onto my computer and transmitted the order to the company's website.

I always sent my weekly order into the caterer on Tuesday morning. It took them three days to process and prepare the order, and get it to me. I paid them the healthy amount of 5,000 Nuevo Sol ($1,483 in US currency) to deliver the order to my island by way of one of their fishing boats each week. Having been doing business with the company for eight years, I think it is safe for me to claim that I am their favorite customer. I have paid them well over 2,000,000 Nuevo Sol (or roughly $600,000 USD) in delivery charges alone! The two owners led quite the lavish lifestyle because of me. They were good people, though, and deserved it.

After uploading and then transmitting the order via the world wide web, I took a few moments to contemplate what I should do next. Should I go to the library and attempt to strike up a conversation with Pamela? How about the exercise room, where Trish and Lindsay were located? Or maybe the west beach? Devon, Amy and Camille were having a very naughty discussion there. Decisions, decisions, decisions...

Ultimately, I went back to the library with the sincere hope of finding Pamela there so we could stir up our own discussion. Much to my delight, I found the blonde and buxom goddess reading a book at the circular table. Pamela was so involved with her reading that she did not even realize that I was also in the library until I made my way over to her.

"Of all the books in here," I gently said, looking at its title, "THAT is the one I would have least expected to see you reading." I offered Pamela a smile as she glanced up at me. "I'm not disturbing you ... am I? I'll leave if I am."

"No, not at all," Pamela responded, motioning for me to take a seat across from her at the table. She then peeked at the cover of her book and mused, "You would not expect me to read a book about Egyptian artifacts, huh? Let me tell you that I love to read ANYTHING and EVERYTHING that has to do with the mythology of Egypt. I am fascinated by it."

Egyptian artifacts? The mythology of Egypt? Not only was Pamela beautiful, obviously, but she was also smart and well-schooled. I knew nothing about either of the subjects, unfortunately. "That poses a question ... since when does a stripper have an interest in Egyptian artifacts?"

Pamela giggled as I referred to her profession. "Oh ... give me a little credit. I am a stripper, yes, but I do it for the money. I need it for college tuition. One day, I want to make something of my life and be successful. Being a stripper does not make me an air-head, you know. I am a member of Mensa too, F-Y-I." Yes... Mensa. The group for those individuals with ridiculously high IQ ratings...

"I would never accuse you of being an air-head," I told her. "Me, maybe. But not you. Definitely not you."

Pamela laughed. "That's good to know."

Once again, the thought crossed my mind that Pamela looked downright irresistible with those reading glasses on. Maybe I was developing a new, unique fetish? Of course, Pamela looked downright irresistible without her glasses on, too. Or any other piece of clothing or accessory under the sun. But I had a strange attraction for her wire-trimmed glasses. My naughty side had a stake in the matter, too. What would the lenses look like with sperm splattered all across them? But my attraction for her glasses went well beyond that.

"I think some of the girls went down to the beach," I informed Pamela, which was somewhat of a lie - I knew that was where they were. "Why didn't you go there with them?"

Pamela grinned and shook her head. "I had no idea where they went. The last time I saw the others was at the breakfast table this morning." She placed a marker in the book and set it down upon the table. "I felt like checking out the library, you know. I just LOVE books."

I nodded at her. "I remember from your profile that you are an avid reader. You read several books a week, yes?"

Pamela frowned for an instant and shrugged her shoulders. "If I'm not working or at college, attending classes, I am usually home - reading a book." A smile flashed across her lovely face as she added, "All of the employees at the county library know me by name. The neighborhood library, too."

"How could they forget a beautiful woman like you?"

Pamela smiled. "Thank you, Jeremy."

"Feel free to shut me up at any given time," I advised her. "I don't want you to think that I am prying, or being nosey. I just ... why ... why ... why are you a stripper?"

"Why do you ask that?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I have never met a stripper before. I have never even been in one of those places, so I cannot really say what it is like. But I know the stereotype that goes along with being a stripper." I paused for a moment, attempting to find the right words within myself to say to her. I did not want to offend or upset Pamela in any possible way. "You just seem ... so much better than that."

Pamela tilted her head to the side and looked at me for several seconds. I got the sense that she was judging the sincerity of my words via my expression. I meant what I had said, of course, so hopefully Pamela came to that conclusion. I am about as honest as any one person could possibly be.

"Why are you a stripper?" I asked again. "Is it because of the money? I imagine with a body like yours, you make a nice living for yourself. You must get a lot of tips. I am sure that you have a lot of..."

"I am a stripper because it helps pay the bills and lets me live the type of life that I want to live," Pamela said. "At least, financially. I know it may not be much to you, Jeremy, since you're obviously worth millions and millions of dollars with this mansion and island. But I live with my sister, Candice, in a really nice apartment. A penthouse, actually. I have a 2007 BMW 323ci convertible. I'm going to sell it for $30,000, or thereabouts. With or without the money I receive from staying here on the island - meaning whether I came here or not - I am going to buy a brand new car, a 2013 Lotus Elise convertible, for about $60,000 when they come out in a few months." She paused, allowing me to take those words in. "Being a stripper lets me and my sister live in a very nice, upscale penthouse. It lets me afford to own a BMW. It lets me afford a snazzy sports car - the Lotus Elise convertible - that I would have no business buying otherwise. The quality of life that I have with my sister would not be near as good as it is now if I was say ... a waitress. Stripping is great money for me."

"Your sister ... Candice? You two are close?"

"Candice is my best friend," Pamela admitted. "She is a couple of years younger than me. 27, to be precise. I have another sister, Paula, who is 35. But Paula is married and has her own family. I have lived with Candice for the past nine years - ever since she graduated from high school."

"What type of work does your sister do? Candice?"

"She works at a flower shop in [City Name] and goes to college on a part-time basis," Pamela replied. "Candice is hoping to get into the world of science one day."

I smiled at those words. "She must be smart - like you."

Pamela giggled. "I come from a smart family, I guess."

"I imagine that you take care of your sister in terms of finances?" was my next question. "Unless your sister is the manager or owner of the place, I just cannot imagine that she makes a whole lot of money at a flower shop. Plus, you live in a very expensive and deluxe penthouse, you said."

"I handle 90 percent of our expenses," Pamela nodded. "I made over $200,000 last year alone, and have three times that in the bank. I've been a dancer for over a decade. Candice is my baby sister. I am happy to give her a good life."

"What about your parents? How are things with them?"

Pamela shrugged her shoulders. "I get along with my mom and dad, I guess. But they have never approved of me being a stripper. And they do not approve of Candice living off of my money because of where it comes from." She puckered her lips together and added, "Doesn't really matter, though. I have always made my own decisions in life."

"But you are studying to be a schoolteacher, correct?"

"Yes," Pamela answered. "I get my degree next year. I cannot strip forever, you know. But I am going to do it for as long as they let me, and save as much money as possible. The $600,000 I have in the bank - I try to never touch it. The only thing I want to do with it is add onto it. I know I will have a NORMAL job one day. Probably sooner than I think, too. I'm not 20 anymore. I'm 30."

"Even without ever having been to your club, dear, I already know that you are the best-looking girl there." Pamela smiled as I continued, "I am sure that the powers that be will let you work there for as long as you want. They would be totally insane not to."

"I don't know," Pamela fretted. "I'm the oldest girl there - by far. I think the next youngest is 23. 24, max. This is a very high-class strip club that prides itself on having the most beautiful dancers in the area. I do not think they would want me if I was 30-something and, at least in their eyes, over-the-hill. But working there for so long, I cannot tell you how many girls I have seen come and go over the years. Most of them do not last but a couple of months. Some even a few weeks. Why, I have seen some girls quit even after their first hour. But I'm the one constant. I've been working there for 11 years - since I was 19. The next girl in terms of seniority is three years."

I felt like telling Pamela that there were much better ways for her to make her money in life. But on the other hand, I did not want to offend her. Thus, I held back on my comment. She did not need to live in a glitzy penthouse and parade about town in a BMW or a Lotus Elise.

In my eyes, at least, Pamela would make a great librarian. Money would be much tighter, of course, and Pamela would not be able to afford many of the luxuries in life that she now enjoys. But I felt as if it would be a much better fit for her. To me, anything is better than being a stripper. I am not saying one negative thing about anyone in her profession, either. I just thought Pamela was so much better than this.

I did not like the idea of Pamela exposing and degrading herself to what must have been thousands and thousands of strangers over the past 11 years. I may never have been to a strip club, but I had a pretty good idea of what went on in those places. Vulgar, drunk men who are lewd and totally disrespectful toward the ladies, shelling money out of their wallets for a lap dance which lasted for three or four minutes. Not every man is that way at those places, of course, but I imagine that a healthy percentage of them are. It only takes one bad apple to ruin the bushel, you know.

Personally, if I was a woman, I could never work in such a place. No amount of money could get me to subject myself to what Pamela must have endured for the past 11 years.

However, Pamela seemed very at ease and content with her career. So really, who was I to judge, or tell her what to do with her life? I may not agree with it - again, Pamela seemed SO MUCH BETTER than your prototypical stripper - but I was not going to say anything negative to her about it. It was not my place to do so, and I would be out of line.

"The Lotus Elise ... that is a European car," I mused. "They finally made their way over to America?"

"Yes," Pamela nodded. "The United States has very strict crash standards, you know, and it has prevented the Elise from being introduced there until just recently. Personally, I think it is the sharpest-looking car in the world. To me, it looks like it is from 20 or 30 years away in the future."

"I'm kind of partial to the Bugatti Veyron myself."

"That car costs like ... ten times as much as an Elise."

"More like 30 times," I corrected her.

"Oh." That one caught Pamela off-guard. Funny!

"What else can you tell me about yourself?" I inquired, wanting to change the subject. How long could I talk about cars before Pamela got bored? "What do you enjoy in life?"

"Reading," Pamela responded, picking up the book about Egyptian artifacts and showing it to me. "As I told you earlier, if I'm not working, I'm reading. I love to read. I do not think there is a book that I would refuse to read."

"Don't you ever go out?"

She shook her head. "No, not really. I work three or four nights a week, sometimes more. My shifts vary. The place opens at seven o'clock and does not close until four or five in the morning, depending on business. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, it opens two hours earlier at five. My sleeping hours are just terrible. It's not that I don't have the time to go out, because I do. I just don't WANT to go out, that's all. I'm pretty boring, actually."

I smiled. "I very seriously doubt that you are boring."

"Well, I haven't been on a date in eight months."

"Why is that?"

"I want to find someone who likes me for the person that I am inside, not outside," Pamela replied. "In my line of work, that is very difficult to do. I am so used to being viewed and looked at as nothing more than an object."

"I like you for who you are, Pamela. And, I can assure you that I would never, ever think of you as an object."

The young woman frowned and tilted her head at me. "I've caught you looking at me - checking me out - several times already, Jeremy. I have been here less than 24 hours. You have to realize that I KNOW when a man, or even a woman, is checking me out. Interested customers ... how I make money."

"I cannot help but to look at you because you are a very beautiful woman," I admitted. "But I am just as interested in the person inside of you, if not more." I extended both arms and held my hands out. "We've been talking for several minutes here. I don't know about you, but I am enjoying this conversation. I am perfectly content with this."

Pamela laughed. "You are running a sex resort, Jeremy, and yet you are perfectly content to sit here and talk? I am sorry, but that does not make a lot of sense to me."

I cringed at her words. "This is not a sex resort. Call it that if you wish, Pamela, but it's far from the truth."

"But the information packet I got in the mail said..."

"Disregard what it said," I interjected, cutting her off. "You can do whatever you please over the next six weeks. If you don't want to have sex, Pamela, then don't have it. I just want you and all of the other girls to be comfortable and happy here. Believe it or not, you are the boss. I'm not the boss here. You are. The others are. Not me."

"Why did you bring us here?" Pamela asked in a suspicious tone. Actually, it seemed as if she was more confused than suspicious. Or perhaps a combination of both? Whatever the case, I could not tell Pamela that I was on a crusade to find my soul-mate and eventual bride in life. Not yet, anyway.

"I brought you and the others here, Pamela, because I enjoy the company," I said. "Aside from the housekeeper Louisa - who is only here when I have guests - and a very close, dear friend of mine named Kristanna who visits me from time to time, I'm all alone on this island. The only other people who have ever come here are family members of mine. But they only come once or twice a year."

"Amy was saying something about Kristanna," Pamela mused. "Amy said you mentioned her last night. Who is she?"

"Kristanna is a friend of mine," I answered. "She is from Norway. Kristanna was hoping to be here yesterday to meet and greet all of you girls upon your arrival."

"Oh?"

"Hopefully, Kristanna will be here in a couple of days. She ran into some problems with her passport in Norway. I am hoping she will be here by the end of the week. You'll like her, Pamela. Kristanna is a real sweetheart."

"Is she bi-sexual like the rest of us?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Kristanna will be staying with us for the next six weeks, whenever she finally shows up." I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out a 3x5 photograph of a tall, slender blonde smiling and posing next to a horse, decked out in riding pants, a white t-shirt and denim jacket. I offered it to Pamela and said, "This is Kristanna."

"She is very pretty," Pamela remarked, inspecting the photograph. "Is she your girlfriend, or something?"

I chuckled at those words. "No, not quite. A friend. A wonderful friend, but just a friend. Not my girlfriend. I have not had a girlfriend in a long, long time."

"That horse ... was this picture taken on the island? I have always wanted to go horseback riding."

"The information packet you got in the mail promised many things," I reminded her. "One of them was a horse stable."

"It also promised a sex resort."

"This island can be a sex resort if you want it to be a sex resort," I commented. "All you have to do is find a willing partner. I'm sure that won't be difficult for you."

Pamela laughed. "I haven't had sex in eight months." She hesitated for a moment, then grinned. "Until yesterday."

"Yesterday?" I inquired, suddenly very curious. Ahhhhh, I said to myself. Earlier, I eavesdropped on the discussion (with the help of my voyeur room) at the beach where Amy told Devon and Camille that Pamela sucked my sperm out of her pussy with her lips and tongue. Suddenly, I wondered if Pamela enjoyed the taste of my man-seed. Pamela could have another taste if she wanted to. All she had to do was ask...

Plus, I then recalled Pamela's steamy, little tryst with Amy in the shower after their arrival yesterday afternoon. That was the most highly erotic scene I had ever witnessed in my whole, entire life. Pamela and Amy squirming and writhing their luscious bodies together underneath the continual spray of the shower. Eventually, after shampooing and washing each other's hair, Amy dropped down to her knees and serviced Pamela's tiny, little pussy with her lips and tongue. Oh God ... I was getting an erection just thinking about it!

"Amy..." Pamela smiled and shook her head. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm not the type to kiss and tell."

"You had sex with Amy?" I asked, acting surprised.

"No comment," she grinned, shaking her head.

No comment? No problem. I could always re-live their sexual encounter from last evening in the voyeur room at any given time. All activities here on the island were being archived onto the computer system. I would have to review the footage from last evening at the earliest opportunity.

"At least you seem like a nice guy."

"Why do you say that?"

Pamela shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't want to come to a sex resort where the guy running it is a total pervert. I deal with enough of them at my job. This is supposed to be a vacation, you know. Something out of the ordinary." She paused, lost in thought for a moment. "You still did not tell me why you brought all of us girls here."

"Yes I did - because I enjoy the company."

"The REAL reason," Pamela insisted. "Why?"

The time was not right for me to tell Pamela that I was on a mission to find my bride in life. I had known her and all of the other ladies for less than 24 hours. It is not that I did not trust Pamela with the whole truth, or think she would take it the wrong way. It was just too early in our relationship. That was the reason. It was too early.

"If I did not enjoy your company, why else would I have brought you and the others here?" I told Pamela. "Except for Kristanna and the one or two times my family comes and visits me each year, I'm all alone. Louisa does not count. I enjoy the company, Pamela. That is why you are here."

"You're not telling me the whole truth." Wow, I said to myself. Not only was Pamela smart and intellectual, but she was also very perceptive. "It's okay, though, Jeremy. I'll find out eventually. I'm the type of person who has to know everything. I'll figure you out sooner or later..."

Actually, I would welcome that. I wanted Pamela to know everything about me - but in due time. Her stunning beauty, combined with a fresh and friendly attitude, an unending quest for knowledge and, most importantly, the desire to one day get married and settle down had catapulted Pamela to the head of the class. She was my favorite of all of the women here - bar none. Whether she was an exotic dancer or not, I could definitely see this wondrous woman as my future wife.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?"

Pamela's question caught me off-guard. So much so, in fact, that I found myself doing a double-take. "Wh-What?"

"You were going to kiss me at the big, official meeting before breakfast ... remember?" she mused. "Amy stepped in at the last second and kissed me instead." Pamela glanced around in all different directions, then focused on me and offered a glittering smile. "No one is in our way now."

I gulped my throat. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

"Yes, I do. Very much so."

"Oh. Well ... I can do that."

"Then do it."

What started off as an awkward moment quickly changed to one of total bliss when I leaned across the table and found Pamela's lips with my very own. I proceeded to gently slip my curious tongue into her wondrous mouth and explore its many recesses and textures. Pamela met my tongue with her own within the confines of that delicious mouth of hers, and soon they began to duel and slip-slide together in erotic unison. My heart fluttering, I then brought a hand to the side of Pamela's face and tenderly caressed it. A glorious moment later, both of us broke the kiss simultaneously and took the opportunity to catch our collective breaths.

Pamela's head was tilted to the side as she looked at me with a sincere, appreciative expression. Soon, however, a loving smile flashed across that pretty face of hers as she slowly but surely removed her reading glasses. I wanted her to leave them on! "Hmmmmm ... that was the first time that I have kissed a guy in well over a year."

"Really?" I asked, confused. "I thought you said it was eight months. That was your last date, correct?"

Pamela's smile widened. "I didn't say that date was with a guy." My eyes grew large as she coyly added, "It was with one of the girls at the strip club."

"How did that work out?"

This time, Pamela had to forge a smile. "It didn't work out. Her name was Kitana. We're still friends, I guess."

"Why didn't it work out? If you don't mind my asking..."

"We went to a restaurant where there were families and kids around, and Kitana wanted to make out with me right in front of everyone," Pamela replied. "I may be a little bold and adventurous, but nowhere near like that. It's one thing for a woman to hug and kiss on a guy in a public place. It is something else for a woman to do that with another woman. I'm not looking to broadcast my sexual orientation in front of a group of strangers like that. Especially kids. We did go back to her apartment and wound up having sex. Nothing else happened between us beyond that night, though. It was pretty much a one-night stand. We kind of mutually went our separate ways following that night."

I nodded my head and offered her a smile. "Sounds like your friend lived life in the fast lane. Rest assured that you can hug and kiss on me all you want, though, dear." The 30-year-old giggled as I added, "I don't think that anyone here is going to be shocked or offended if you do. And you do not have to worry about kids seeing you. None are here."

"Do you like children, Jeremy?"

"I love kids." Pamela grinned as I continued, "I want to have three or four, maybe even five kids, one day. It is something that I have wanted since I was in high school."

"I want to have a bunch of children too," Pamela swooned, her expression conveying the notion of what it would be like if I was the father of her children. She rolled her head in an innocent fashion and lamented, "I just haven't found the right man to settle down with yet."

"Who knows?" I countered. "Sometimes you can meet the person who is best suited for you in the strangest place."

"Like a tropical island in the middle of the ocean?"

My insides warmed at her comment. "Sounds good to me." Soon, I chuckled and continued, "I could see it now, Pamela dear ... you as the mother of five children. Say goodbye to your Lotus Elise and say hello to a giant station wagon with lots of wood on the sides!" Pamela laughed as I kept talking, "Or maybe a mini-van. Soccer mom and PTA stickers on the back bumper ... girl and boy scout stickers too. " The dazzling blonde shook her head at me and giggled. "You would drive by in your gas-guzzling station wagon or mini-van and guys would say to each other, GOOD NIGHT, look at that MILF."

"MILF?" Pamela looked confused. "What's a MILF?"

I grinned and answered, "Mom I'd Like to ... bleep."

"Oh!" she laughed. "I should have known!" Pamela offered me a playful slap on the arm and continued, "I have never thought of myself driving a station wagon or mini-van, but I would gladly do it if I could have a loving husband and kids, and be happy in life. I would trade anything for it. There are times, though, when I wonder if that will ever happen..."

"I would trade anything for a loving wife and kids, dear. Seems to me as if you and I have something in common there."

"That we do," Pamela agreed, before smiling sweetly and slowly but surely making her way around to my side of the library table. She placed one arm around my neck and took a seat directly across my lap. An instant later, Pamela found my mouth with her own and the two of us shared a very warm and sensuous kiss. I rubbed my right hand over and across the center portion of her back while my left gently squeezed her thigh. Pamela responded by thrusting her upper torso against mine and finding my mouth for yet another exchange of tongues. Her large, thick breasts felt fabulous as they were squished all nice and snug against my chest.

I was quickly becoming overwhelmed by this woman. The intoxicating smell of Pamela, the taste of her luscious lips and her small, delicate hand suddenly rubbing and squeezing the huge bulge within my shorts was taking its toll on me. Not to mention, of course, her angelic face and voluptuous body. There was no question that I wanted this woman. I wanted her more than anything in the whole, wide world.

During our shared kiss, I managed to undo several buttons on her blouse and pull it open. Pamela wiggled her shoulders several times in succession, until the blouse loosened and fell harmlessly to the floor. I used this opportunity to squeeze and knead her left breast through the fabric of her silky, white bra with my hand, luxuriating in its plump firmness. She let out a squeal as I moved a few fingers underneath the cup of her bra and pinched her nipple, my lips and tongue savoring her delicious mouth. Eventually, however, Pamela broke the kiss and looked into my brown eyes with a dreamy, lust-ridden expression on her face.

She slipped her hand inside my shorts and gripped the base of my erection, then smiled. "Are you sure the other girls are down at the beach?"

I nodded my head at her. "Yeah ... as far as I know."

She grinned once more. "Good. I want you for myself."

"Trish and Lindsay are together in the exercise room," I managed to get out, unsnapping her bra in back and then disposing of it. "They will be there for a while."

"As long as they stay there..." she nodded.

I moaned in pure delight as Pamela closed her mouth over mine yet again. This time, our kiss was much more intense than before. We attacked each others' mouths, diving our tongues far and deep. In the process, Pamela managed to yank my shorts down. Now, she was stroking my erection in plain sight, as I massaged both of her breasts with my own hands. It was a very intense moment - to say the least.

Pamela broke the kiss, which disappointed me momentarily. I was quickly overcome with lustful desire, however, as she soon dropped to her knees and assumed the fellatio position. Pamela grasped my cock tightly and while looking up into my eyes, slapped it against her chin three times, giggling.

"It's been awhile since I did this," she purred. "Let me see if I remember how to put the lipstick on the dipstick."

Grinning, Pamela's eyes never lost contact with mine as the head of my cock then disappeared into her wondrous mouth.

I groaned in pure arousal, realizing that my shaft was fully jammed against the back of her mouth, as she massaged my aching testicles with both of her hands. Pamela kept that same position for several seconds, looking up into my eyes while moaning and panting out with her own sheer desire.

I quickly got the sense that Pamela was just as turned on as I was - if that was possible. She was burning up!

All of a sudden, Pamela changed her technique and began to bob her head up-and-down over my erection as if her very life depended on it. Her head was moving at an incredible rate of speed. At the same time, she massaged and tweaked my testicles with her fingertips. I could really do nothing but toss my head back and moan in undeniable passion.

The blonde bombshell took my cock out of her mouth for a spell and lapped at my testicles, getting them all nice and moist. Pamela then stuffed my erection back into her mouth, this time jutting her shapely ass outward, and sucked away with a ferocious nature that words could never describe.

Once again, Pamela took the full length of my cock into her mouth. But this time, I felt the tip of my shaft slip and slide down her throat. She was deep-throating me! I yelled out in pure ecstasy while massaging her head, running my fingers throughout her immaculate, long-flowing hair.

"You're beautiful, sweetheart," I moaned, looking down at her. Pamela's response was a cock-filled smile and giggle.

The wicked seductress withdrew my erection from her mouth, lapped away at my testicles and then swallowed my length once again. She repeated the same process, over and over again, several times. Soon, her head plunges became quicker, which caused me to moan and groan even louder than before. I was becoming lost in a sea of wicked stimulation.

What a remarkable woman, to say the least. Is there a better feeling in the world - at least for a man - than having a beautiful lady perched on her knees in front of you, orally servicing your cock? Some may disagree, but I really cannot think of one. Nothing even compared to this for me.

What made this even better was that Pamela was the total embodiment of the ultimate fantasy girl. Blonde and overly busty with a ferocious sexual appetite, women such as Pamela were only supposed to exist in centerfold magazines. But she was here right now - with me - on my island. What good had I done to deserve this? Thank you, God. Thank you!

I used both hands to grab the back of Pamela's head before letting out a thunderous, earth-shaking scream. I pulled her head to me so that my erection was embedded all of the way within her mouth and throat, without a trace of it exposed. Then, the eruption inside my body took place.

I growled as my cock fired its first batch of sperm into her mouth. Pamela choked for a moment but then pulled back, placing my burning shaft directly onto her soft tongue. The second laser-shot of semen went straight into her mouth, with big globs of it splattering across her teeth in the process. I grasped my cock and stroked it fiercely, wanting to spray even more of my seed into her hungry, awaiting mouth.

I was successful, at least partially, as half of my next blast landed on Pamela's pretty face and lovely hair. I watched her as she sucked and swallowed down what sperm went into her mouth, as more of it was jettisoned from my shaft. Soon, there were two thick, gooey strands of hot jizz slowly trailing down either side of her sweet face.

When I finally ran dry, there was one final string of cum which dangled from the tip of my cock. I shook it loose, and the big glob landed directly on Pamela's fiery tongue as she giggled with pure desire. Of course, she swallowed it whole.

I looked down at this fabulous, exciting woman. She was a mess, with my white man-cream all over her face and hair. It was a very beautiful sight to behold, however.

"How was I?" Pamela asked, smiling up at me.

"You were wonderful, sweetheart," I moaned. "That was, by far, the best blowjob I have ever received."

"Better than Amy's?" Pamela asked, in a quizzical tone. "I know she went to your room last night."

"Amy was fabulous, dear, but no one compares to you."

The buxom stripper smiled at me while rising to her feet. She grasped my hand and pulled me into a standing position as well. Then, Pamela wrapped her arms around me and pressed her lips to mine for a searing kiss. We kissed with great hunger and passion while grinding and bumping our bodies together as one. I cupped her sweet ass with both hands and squeezed it roughly, then managed to slip her tight-fitting denim shorts downward, and off. When her G-string followed, Pamela was just the way I wanted her - completely nude.

Pamela pulled me down to the floor with her, then broke the kiss. She grinned lustily at me and said, "Please, I want you to fuck me right now." The idea of re-paying her oral favor with one of my own was now on my mind, but... "Please," she reiterated. "I want you to fuck me now. I don't want to wait for it any longer. I've waited long enough to be with a man again. Please ... now..."

With the enchantress soon on her back, her legs widespread and knees in the air, I positioned myself to enter her in the missionary position. She raised both of her legs and crisscrossed her feet together behind my neck as I fisted my cock and guided it toward her slick pussy. It was time.

I burrowed the tip of my shaft into Pamela's opening and watched as her face turned red with hot passion and desire. Both of us groaned as I then sank my cock deeper and deeper into her, going very slowly. I simply could not believe how tight she felt! It was incredible.

Eventually, I had poked the full length of my erection into her. Pamela moved her feet so they were now on the floor again, her knees high in the air. I used this opportunity to lean forward and give her a full kiss on the lips. Both of us smiled at one another, in sheer arousal.

I withdrew my cock from her, very slowly, then thrusted it back into her velvety slit. Pamela moaned and squealed as I did it once again, but only faster. I continued doing so, picking up speed with each new thrust. In no time flat, I was pumping myself into her at a hard, steady pace.

Still leaning forward, I peppered the blonde's face and neck with a series of quick-hitting kisses. She seemed to enjoy this almost as much as I did. In addition, I loved the sound of Pamela talking to me with each and every inward cock-stroke that I gave her. It was sweet music to my ears.

"Fuck my pussy!" she demanded, encouraging me further. "Fuck it! Fuck it harder! I wanna feel you. Fuck me in my pussy!" Her nasty words were only making me thrust into her harder than before. "Fuck my pussy. Hurt me with your big cock. Fuck me!" I growled at her verbal onslaught. "Come on ... give it to me. Give it to me!" I was hammering away at her with all of my strength now. This definitely did not sound like the sweet and well-mannered woman I had spoken to over a 10 or 15 minute span. Beneath that cool and friendly exterior, Pamela was a nasty hellcat in heat! "OH YES! YEAH! FUCK ME! DON'T STOP! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!"

Pamela's face was thrashing from side-to-side as her large breasts bounced about wildly. I was really giving it to her now. I did not know that I had this sort of power in me. She had drawn it out of me with her nasty language.

Pamela let out a series of loud screams before continuing, "Please fuck me. Fuck me harder! OH YEAH! MORE! MORE! OH MY GOD! YES! FUCK MY LITTLE PUSSY! FUCK IT WITH YOUR BIG COCK!" She let out another scream, then began to grope and massage her large, heavenly breasts with her own hands.

The combination of my cock buried inside Pamela's sweet folds and the sound of her nasty words were about to push me over the edge. I really could not take much more of this. This luscious woman, of course, sensed that.

"Give it to me," she continued. "Give it to me! I know you want to. I know you want to, real bad ... cum inside me. Come on, cum inside my little pussy. Do it! DO IT NOW!"

There was no holding back as I lost control of my body. Growling in a passionate rage, I buried myself all of the way inside of Pamela's tender folds and then simply exploded.

My absolute dream woman screamed in desire as a helping of sperm jettisoned itself from my cock directly into her womb. I continued to empty my load into Pamela, wanting to flood her insides with my thick and gooey juice. Initially, there were two large gushes of sperm which had shot out - and they were followed a series of several smaller ones. During this time, Pamela experienced a rather extensive orgasm of her own. It was only appropriate that she did so.

Once I was tapped out, however, I lost all of my strength and fell down directly on top of Pamela. Both of us had shared the ultimate togetherness between two people. Though exhausted, we reveled in that wonderful feeling.

"Good boy," she said, obviously pleased with my efforts. The blonde kissed me on the lips while running her fingers throughout my hair, and repeated, "Good boy..."

I put my arms around her and held her close to me. I offered Pamela a kiss of my own and said, "Good girl..."

Pamela giggled at me as we embraced one another tightly. "I hope you don't mind me being honest and straightforward, Jeremy, about telling you this was my first time with a guy in over a year. I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I just believe that honesty is a big part of any relationship."

"You can be as honest and as straightforward with me as you like," I advised her. "Tell me anything."

"It's a two-way street, you know," she reminded me. "You can be totally open and honest with me too, Jeremy."

"I have been."

"No you haven't," she countered. When I pulled back and looked into her eyes - wondering what that comment meant - Pamela waved a finger before me and said, "Tell me the reason WHY you brought me and all of the other girls to this island with you, Jeremy. The REAL reason. Not a half-reason. I promise not to tell the others if you don't want me to."

I chuckled inwardly, suddenly feeling a certain sense of ease. Pamela may very well be the one for me. In fact, as of this moment in time, I was absolutely positive of it. I could easily envision myself marrying this angel one day...

"The real reason, sweetheart, is because I want to find the girl of my dreams," I said, my voice gentle and soothing. I kissed her on the forehead. "I think I already found her."

Pamela sighed and closed her eyes for several seconds, allowing those heartfelt words to sink in and register. When she finally opened her eyes and focused on me, her face was awash with emotion. "Dare I say it, but I think you have helped me find what I've been searching for, too."

"And what is that?" I asked, kissing away a tear which trickled from her left eye.

"The perfect man."

Feeling playful, my head shot up and I glanced about in all different directions. "Oh? Where is he? Can I meet him? Maybe I could get some advice, and a few suggestions." Much to my delight, Pamela laughed at my words. My feeble attempt at humor was successful,

Pamela kissed me flush on the lips and literally begged, "Stay with me here. Hold me. Hold me in your arms."

Although I realized that the library was not the typical place for such romance and togetherness, I could never turn down that type of request from Pamela. So, I smiled at her and promised, "I'll stay with you as long as you want me to."



-------

Chapter 3: Tour de Devon


After our sizzling, red-hot sexual encounter had reached its conclusion, I stayed (and cuddled) with Pamela for a long period of time upon the carpeted floor of the library. It was a quiet, tender series of moments which I still look back on and cherish to this very day. That should be obvious.

If I did not know it before, I was most definitely aware of it now - Pamela was the woman that I had been searching for throughout my entire life. There was absolutely no doubt about that in my mind. I was totally in love with Pamela.

Some people may suggest that I sit back and evaluate all of the women before coming to such a conclusion, but at this point in time, there was no need. Pamela was the one for me. Guaranteed. All of the other ladies here were beautiful and desirable, indeed, but Pamela was my chosen one. I realized that when she was laying in my arms upon the library floor.

As the time went by, Pamela commented that she wanted to wash up, and take a shower. She also said it would not be a good idea if the other five ladies showed up and found the two of us together like this - cuddling as one upon the floor. They would all want me at once, Pamela predicted, and she wondered if I could physically withstand that.

I did not respond to her speculation (even though it was quite a riveting idea), but instead gave Pamela a friendly reminder about the 7:00pm dinner tonight. All of the ladies were required to be there. Pamela asked me what the penalty would be if one of them were to skip dinner, and I playfully replied by telling her that it would most assuredly be a harsh spanking. Pamela giggled and, of course, threatened to be elsewhere at dinner-time tonight.

After a long and tender kiss, the two of us finally parted ways. I decided to go back to my personal suite and take a shower. It was definitely needed. I took an extra long shower, reliving the earlier experience with Pamela in my mind, over and over again. Her nasty words and demeanor when I was penetrating her had a profound effect on me. I really have a bona-fide soft spot for attractive women who are friendly and respectful in general circles, yet harsh and aggressive during sex. Pamela had turned me on...

The mahogany library was not out of the voyeuristic view of my hidden cameras, of course, so I also had my first-ever sexual encounter with Pamela archived on the computer. You can bet that it will be forever saved - and cherished. It may turn out to be my most-watched encounter of all. I would have to burn a DVD copy of it at the earliest opportunity.

After stepping out of the shower and drying off, I threw on some light clothing and decided to lay down for a while. It was early in the afternoon and since dinner-time was not for several more hours, I figured that it would be best to catch up on a little rest. I wanted to take a nap, but...

I then remembered I had promised all of the ladies that I would guide them on a hike to the island's most picturesque waterfall. I did not have a whole lot of time to prepare for it, either. We agreed to begin our trek at 2:00pm - and that was only ten minutes from now. I had to get ready!

I threw on a pair of sturdy shorts and an old t-shirt, and my best hiking boots. I loaded my backpack up with plenty of water bottles and snacks, and a first aid kit (just in case it was needed). I also retrieved several cans and tubes of insect repellant from the storage room, so the ladies and yours truly would be properly protected from Mother Nature. Shortly thereafter, it was time for the journey to commence.

Our hike began at the north end of the mansion, where I guided the entire group - Lindsay, Trish, Devon, Pamela, Amy and Camille - up a very steep trail into the woods and then along a winding cliff. We eventually got back down to sea level, and then took a different trail which veered off to the west. I informed everyone that the waterfall we were visiting today was only a mile up this particular pathway. However, most of it was along a steady incline.

There were plenty of large rocks and muddy spots to deal with as we drew closer toward the waterfall. Soon, we had to be careful with tree roots and fallen branches as well. Needless to say, I had to stop and allow several of the girls to rest and catch their collective breaths while they eagerly downed the energy snacks and bottles of water.

Trish and Pamela, both of whom were very physically fit, did not seem to be having much of a problem with the trail. Lindsay and Amy, however, were often having to stop and pant for breath. Lindsay, in fact, was holding hands with Trish so she would not slip and fall on the treacherous terrain. Still, despite the physical exterion they had to put forth to continue, Lindsay and Amy insisted that we move on.

Fortunately, the steady incline eventually flattened out and the latter portion of the hike became much easier to navigate. All of the ladies were very intrigued once we came across a lava cave just a few hundred feet from the waterfall. Thus, we took another sit-down break in the cave and listened to the ocean's heavy waves crash into the rocky shoreline off in the distance, while having a quick snack. Everyone was so talkative and jovial; they genuinely seemed to be having the time of their lives thus far on the island. I could not be any happier because of this!

After exiting the cave, I offered to take the group on a side trip into the clearing, where a series of petroglyphs (drawings by natives from hundreds of years ago) could be seen on the collection of lava rocks. These petroglyphs were all over this particular area. To me, the aboriginal writings had always been most fascinating.

The true meaning of the drawings will most likely forever remain a mystery, but one could make out figures representing men and women, family units, goats, pets, canoes and even a possible surfer. Petroglyphs are made by pounding a pointed rock with a larger, dull rock into the boulder, thus carving out the figures. Considering that these drawings were, quite possibly, 300 years old, they were priceless in my eyes.

"What is this?" Pamela wondered, pointing toward a boulder with the phrase _Kristanna vilje elsker deg for evig, Jeremy_ carved out across it. "It has your name on it."

I laughed at the mention of the one rock which had given me the most fits over the past two years. "Remember when I told you about my friend from Norway, Pamela? Kristanna? The one who will hopefully be here by the end of the week? Well, at times, she will start talking in her own language right in the middle of a conversation. It drives me insane, but that is why she does it. Kristanna enjoys pestering me, but does so in a comical way. Unfortunately, Kristanna came across an empty rock here one day two years ago and decided to carve out a cryptic message for me."

"What does it mean?" Devon inquired.

I shrugged my shoulders and answered, "I have no idea. But one of these days, I am finally going to break down and buy a Norwegian-to-English dictionary. You will see what I mean when Kristanna arrives here later in the week. She is quite a character. You'll see what I mean. Trust me."

"At least the rock she left that message on was otherwise bare," Pamela observed. "It would be a shame if someone messed up a rock that had some of these writings on it. I should have brought my camera along with me." Pamela looked my way and literally begged, "Will you bring us back here in the future, Jeremy? Please? I would LOVE to photograph the writings ... be able to study and research them."

I chuckled, thinking to myself that Pamela was anything but the prototypical stripper. How many exotic dancers would even be remotely interested in a series of petroglyphs like this? Not only was Pamela interested, but she wanted to _study_ them. She wanted to _research_ them. Incredible...

"I'll bring you back here as often as you like, dear," I promised her. "Just tell me when, and we'll be off."

After getting back onto the path, it only took a minute or two before we reached our final destination. Once there, several of the ladies stood and stared in silent awe at the grand beauty of the island's biggest waterfall. A thick, steady stream of water cascaded down the steep mountain face and into a shimmering pond, which emptied out into the ocean further below. The mountain itself was rich with green weeds, giving it a tropical appearance. In a word, it was majestic.

Now, Lindsay and Trish both claimed that they wished they had brought their respective cameras along to capture the moment as well. I promised them that we would come back here several times in the near future so they could do just that. Devon and Camille were aptly prepared, though, having brought their cellular telephones with them and were busy snapping photographs of the beautiful, stunning landscape.

All of the ladies wore swimsuits or bikinis underneath their clothing, so they soon stripped down and jumped into the beautiful, chest-deep pond. Devon made an immediate move toward the heavy falls, where she allowed herself to bask in the cascading rush of water. Lindsay and Camille soon got the same idea and joined the 27-year-old there as well.

As for myself, I sat on the rocky ledge and smiled as Trish, Pamela and Amy all got into a water-fight with one another. It sure was a sight to watch them squeal and giggle as they blindly splashed water on each other. Soon, Lindsay waded over and joined the playful fight as well. She centered most of her splashing efforts on Trish.

Trish grabbed Lindsay's bare shoulders and dunked her head underwater several times in succession. Each time she came up for a breath, Lindsay would grunt and squeal that revenge would soon be exacted upon Trish for this. The Canadian did not seem to take her seriously, however, as she continually dunked Lindsay's head underwater. Of course, all of this was done in a very fun and safe kind of way. I got the sense from watching them together thus far that Trish would never do anything to harm Lindsay in the slightest way imaginable.

In an unexpected move, Pamela laughed as she literally jumped on the back of Trish's shoulders. This caused Trish to fall underwater as well, and then Lindsay used the golden opportunity to relentlessly splash away once Pamela allowed her to re-surface. Amy stood back and smiled warmly at the exchange, while Devon and Camille were still underneath the constant sheet of oncoming water on the other side.

Soon, Devon tore herself away from that prime location and made her way over to me. She was joined at her side by Amy, and the two ladies suggested that I take a dip in the water with them. I politely declined, though, saying I had left my swimming trunks back at the mansion. I even said that I was happy to just sit back and watch all of the girls enjoy their time in the water.

Devon and Amy glanced at one another for a quick moment and smiled, then both reached out and grabbed my wrists, and pulled me into the basin with them. I was surprised, but really should not have been. Both ladies giggled with pure delight as I flopped about in the water. I was not angry at them, of course, but I was a bit worried about my hiking boots. I had worn my best pair, but now they were soaked.

Undaunted, I returned their splashes with some of my own. Pamela snuck up from behind me and jumped on my back as well, but I did not allow her to submerge me underneath the water. "Get him!" Pamela then screamed, and soon all of the ladies were tugging at various portions of my body. I was no match for the entire group. Thus, I was (cruelly) dunked.

We stayed at the splendid waterfall location for another hour or so - just frolicking and playing around with each other. The hike back to the mansion was obviously less strenuous, since the majority of it was downhill. I was somewhat surprised that everyone had gone through my vast assortment of chocolate power bars and snacks, and was now feeling a tad hungry myself. But oh well ... I would rather be hungry instead of having one of the girls feel that way. Their needs were far more important to me than my own.

Upon our return to the mansion, I agreed to convene with the ladies yet again at 7:00pm for dinner. I reminded them that our nightly meal would always take place at this particular time. Then, I ventured off to my private suite, knowing it was time for a long and relaxing whirlpool bath. I had been through a lot over the past 24 hours, and it felt quite refreshing to have the opportunity to rest my sore, aching muscles in the hot, steamy water.

-------

After I was done with my hour-long dip in the whirlpool bathtub, I stepped out and dried off, then returned to my adjacent personal suite. Curious about the ladies and what they were up to (as I always was), I strolled over to the nearby voyeur room and took a seat at its control panel. Much to my delight, only one of the surveillance monitors in front of me was currently active. Meaning, of course, that all of the ladies were together in the same place since the system was triggered with the use of motion detectors.

That particular place was none other than the indoor pool-house, which was found underneath the glassed-in portion of the roof. The swimming pool there - 24x60 in dimension - featured an underwater music system and a black bottom floor with 2,250 fiber optic lights installed, giving the illusion of a clear, brilliant evening sky. Swimmers could also dive underneath a glass wall and emerge outdoors by the terrace. The view from there, overlooking the rugged forest and the picturesque beach further beyond, was simply astonishing.

I rarely had to do anything with this pool, or the one located outdoors, in terms of maintenance since both were equipped with automated cleaning systems. In fact, the automated cleaning systems for both pools were the best that money could buy. Obviously, it was a nice luxury to have. All I had to do was flip a switch, and the pools would be totally clean and crystal-clear about 45 minutes later.

Getting back to the topic at hand, all of the ladies - Lindsay, Trish, Devon, Pamela, Amy and Camille - were currently enjoying one of the many features that the indoor pool offered. Specifically, they were playing volleyball.

With a heavy duty nylon net installed on the shallow end of the pool, I reclined back within my chair here inside the voyeur room as I watched the ladies play what seemed to be a carefree and jovial game of water volleyball. Lindsay, Trish and Devon appeared to be on one team, with the lovely trio of Pamela, Amy and Camille comprising the other. All of the ladies were still wearing the same bikinis they had on during our earlier adventure up at the waterfall.

It was most definitely a wondrous sight to witness the likes of Pamela and Camille, with their massive 38d-sized breasts bouncing and flopping about underneath their bikini tops, as they exerted themselves in the volleyball game. The same could be said for Devon, Trish and Amy, all of whom sported proud D-cups as well (although none were quite as large and majestic as were Pamela and Camille's).

But the most amazing vision of all was undoubtedly the young and docile Lindsay, with her humble and modest figure (at least compared to the others here) in a simple red bikini swimsuit. With her tight, little body on display, the 18-year-old princess looked even _MORE_ like a high school freshman or sophomore than she usually did. Of course, the aura that constantly surrounded Lindsay - that of still being an untouched virgin - was a big attraction for me. It would be for any man who was lucky enough to be in my position.

Since Lindsay was obviously the youngest and most freshly scrubbed of all of the girls, I caught several of the others stealing quick peeks of her as she frolicked about during the game of water volleyball. Many, if not all, of them were attracted to her. It would be easy for me to anoint Lindsay as the most beautiful woman of the entire group as well, but I was not quite ready to do that just yet (not with Devon and Pamela around). I had not made up my mind on that just yet Still, Lindsay was a gorgeous little thing. Just imagine that sweet, toothy smile of hers wrapped around my willing shaft, sucking and slurping it to the very root. Oh my ... a series of wicked chills just went down my spine!

I had the sudden urge to whip my cock out of my trousers and begin stroking as my wide, lecherous eyes soon became solely focused on Lindsay. How many people in Lindsay's life had the privilege of seeing her in a tiny bikini like the one she was wearing right now? How many people had seen Lindsay _this close_ to being totally nude? It got to the point where I used my hidden cameras to zoom in and totally concentrate on Lindsay and whatever movements she made in the pool. Could I be developing an obsession here?

Oh dear God ... the sight of Lindsay in her little swimsuit and the vivid thoughts it conjured up within my mind sent me to the very brink of erotic madness. I soon fell over that proverbial ledge, as my cock exploded and left a thick, heavy helping of sperm on my wrist in the aftermath.

Now feeling light-headed and mentally exhausted, I settled even further into the chair and took a deep, ragged breath. Oh ... I would give anything to be the one who is blessed with taking that girl's virginity. Anything at all!

-------

Once it was time for dinner, all of the ladies met up with me in the formal dining room and purred with hungry delight as Louisa, the housekeeper, wheeled out the cart of steaming food and prepared to serve it to all of us. She had fixed two different casseroles - one chicken and the other turkey, with sides of oven-baked garlic bread and pumpkin muffins. Lindsay, Trish, Devon and Camille chose the chicken casserole, while Pamela, Amy and yours truly opted for the turkey. The food smelled absolutely delicious!

We all thanked Louisa, who dutifully meandered back into the kitchen with her cart and promised to bring our drinks right out. As could be expected, the meal was wonderful. Louisa really was the best cook in the whole, wide world.

Because Louisa was so old (and had an aching back), I did my best to help her out whenever possible. One thing which was very common for me to do, as I mentioned in the previous chapter, was to take care of the clean-up after every single meal. It was the least I could do for Louisa, considering what a wonderful, quality job she had always done for me.

Honestly, I loved doing dishes. When I was still in high school - which seemed like several eons ago despite the fact I was only 38 - I worked at a fast-food restaurant (_Kentucky Fried Chicken_, to be precise) and washed dishes there every single night. Although this chore was a pet-peeve of many, I was the exact opposite. For whatever reason, I loved it. I have always been a little out-of-the-ordinary.

Of course, I should also point out that many of the girls volunteered to take care of the dishes themselves once they learned that I did not want Louisa to do any of the clean-up, preferring to handle it myself. Lindsay, Trish and Amy were quite adamant in wanting to wash the dishes.

My best guess as for the reason why they wanted to help out was that they were thinking of ways to get on my good side. None of them, of course, knew what the criteria was for taking home the $500,000 grand prize at the end of these six weeks. Lindsay, Trish and Amy - inparticular - were trying their best to be overly helpful with me. I do not know if the money possibilities were foremost on their minds, or if they were truly good people who simply wanted to help. Or, perhaps most likely, it was a combination of both.

However, I told each of them to go off and do their thing. I even referred to the dishes as a _sacred ritual_ - and no one on the island was to wash them except for me. I also informed those three ladies, as well as Devon, Pamela and Camille, that I did not want them to do any chores while they were on this island of mine. They were my guests. What type of host requires his or her guests to do chores? Perhaps some would, but I was definitely not one of them...

-------

"Is everything okay?"

Startled by that unexpectant voice, I quickly glanced over to the side - toward its origin - and was rewarded with the sight of the very captivating and vivacious Devon. I shook my head as if to clear the cobwebs, then offered her quite the dumbfounded expression. Why had Devon asked me that?

"Everything okay?" I countered. "Everything is fine."

"Oh," she said, stepping toward me. "Well, the reason I asked is because it looks like you just lost your best friend, or something. Are you sure everything is okay?"

The time was 8:15pm when Devon had approached on this peaceful and breezy Tuesday evening as I sat just outside the mansion, by the infinity-edged swimming pool. After taking care of the dishes moments earlier, I decided to come out here to relax and unwind for a bit. I had been thinking about the past 24 hours, and what the next six weeks had in store for not only me, but the girls as well.

I was a bit confused, though, as to Devon's remark toward me. I looked as if I had just lost my best friend? All I could figure was that she must have caught me in a very weird moment in regards to my facial expression and/or body language. I truly felt nothing but good vibrations.

I smiled and stood up to meet Devon as she stepped closer to me. "Oh ... yeah. Actually, I was just thinking. Have a couple of things going on in my mind right now."

Devon looked curious. "What were you thinking about?"

"Doesn't matter," I responded, reaching out and grasping her right hand with my very own. Indeed, I was becoming a bit more bold in my dealings with some (but not all) of the ladies. With Devon, it was easy. I already knew that she was attracted to me for some strange, odd reason. "The only thing that matters is that you are here now," I told her.

I quickly learned that I was not quite as bold as Devon, however, as she giggled and then slipped her arms around my body for a brief, but warm embrace. Though merely simple and friendly, the hug added to my positive emotions.

"How are you doing?" I asked once she pulled away and stepped back from me. "How was dinner?"

"Just fine, Jeremy," she smiled. "Just fine. And you? How are you?"

"Wonderful." The primary reason for that, of course, was because I found myself with Devon right now.

Strange as it may sound, but Devon's mere presence had made me temporarily forget not only about Pamela, but the proclamation I made to myself just hours earlier that she was basically the woman I had been searching for throughout my entire life. I was falling into a pattern, a cycle, here. It seemed as if whichever lady I had the most recent contact with - verbal or physical - was my new favorite and the one that I wanted to settle down with and commit to.

Before any of the women had even stepped foot on the island and met me face-to-face, Trish was my favorite. She seemed to be, for lack of a better term, the _coolest_ of them all. Trish was very positive and forthcoming, and I could easily sense that in the many telephone and video conference chats we shared before her arrival. I truly enjoyed my discussions with her more than any of the others.

Then, yesterday happened. With all of the ladies finally here, I swung back-and-forth like a pendulum. Originally, I liked Pamela the most. Then it was Lindsay, Amy, Devon ... back to Amy again. Today, my new favorite was Pamela. The thoughts I had about Lindsay earlier were really starting to consume me and push her to the head of the proverbial class.

Now? I was alone with Devon. Suddenly (at least for the time being), no one else really mattered. Devon was first and foremost on my mind. This was not a good cycle to be in. I had six weeks to make a decision, and even though this was just day number two, the clock was ticking.

I took a moment to study Devon from head to toe. I soon wished that I could take a year instead.

The 27-year-old enchantress from Pennsylvania wore a sleeveless yellow top that was not only extremely bright in color, but also ended several inches below her midriff. In addition, Devon had on a pair of matching yellow shorts which did an excellent job of highlighting her firm, tanned legs. Much like the top, Devon's shorts were a very tight and clingy fit. To complete her outfit, she wore a pair of white sneakers and matching socks rolled down to her ankles.

Mere words could never accurately describe just how good Devon looked in that popsicle color of yellow. The shape and contour of her large breasts - hidden beneath the tight, adhering fabric of her sleeveless top - looked titillating. Ditto for her ass, which appeared so very taut and ripe underneath the flashy exterior of those yellow shorts.

"Can I tell you something that you already know?"

"What?" the blonde inquired.

"You look ... fabulous."

"Oh ... thank you, Jeremy!" She closed the short distance between us and placed a hand on my wrist. "Actually, you are JUST the man that I am looking for."

"I'm the only man here."

Devon giggled again. "That's true. But I wanted to ask for a big favor - if you would get me a bicycle out of the storage shed. You said there are plenty locked up in there, right? I haven't rode a bike in ten years."

"You want to go on a bike ride?"

Devon gave me a military salute. "Yes sir."

I held up a single finger and grinned, "One condition."

"What's that?"

"Let me go on the bike ride with you," was my request, as I stood up from the chair. "That is, if you don't mind me tagging along. Maybe we could make it a little date?"

"A date?" Devon beamed. "I'd love that."

"As would I," were my words, as I chuckled to myself. I got Devon to agree to go on a _date_ with me out of nowhere. What part of my reserved, shy being had that request come out of so effortlessly and flawlessly? I was really starting to open up with all of these ladies around, and that was good. I would need to open up more over the coming days and weeks.

I reached out and placed my hand on the back of Devon's right shoulder. I gave a little nudge, then motioned for her to walk with me toward the exit of the outdoor pool area. When she did, I tilted my head and gazed at her as we slowly strolled along. "You haven't taken a bicycle ride in ten years, Miss Devon? How can that possibly be?"

Devon shrugged her shoulders. "It's a lot easier to drive a car, I guess. I was always too busy with going to college and then, after that, my job."

"Not near as fun to drive a car, though," I told her. "I take a bike out and go riding every week. I have for years." Once we reached the pool gate, I slipped ahead of Devon and opened it for her. "Do you have any particular idea where you want to go? I have all sorts of bicycles - free-ride, racing, sport, hybrids ... others. Where do you want to ride?"

"I was thinking of the access roads, but I wouldn't mind hitting the dirt trails in the forest, too. We have a little time before it gets dark. Maybe an hour or so."

I nodded my head. "A mountain bike sounds good for you."

After fetching the master set of keys from my pocket, I escorted the lovely Devon over to the storage shed located adjacent from the mansion and unlocked its door. I flipped on the overhead lamp and debated within my mind which bicycle would be the best bet for Devon. Ultimately, I suggested the _Litespeed Unicoi XTR_, a bicycle designed for mountainous, rugged terrain. It was a smaller frame model, thus making it perfect for a woman of Devon's stature.

I chose a similar ride for myself in perhaps my favorite bicycle of all, the _Cannondale Scalpel 3000_. It was very light-weight (only 5.15 pounds) and was the fastest bicycle that I had ever rode on my entire life. One of nine bicycles that I owned specifically for myself - no one else could ride these - the _Cannondale Scalpel 3000_ was my choice whenever I felt like trekking throughout the forest.

I offered Devon a helmet and pair of trail gloves, then filled up our respective water bottles at the sink. Finally, it was time to hit the road. After I locked the shed, Devon and I hopped onto the pair of bicycles and were ready to venture out into the wild blue yonder. Aside from Kristanna (again, my friend from Norway who would hopefully be on the island in a day or two - she was having passport issues), this would be the first time that I had some company on a bicycle ride in several years. I was going to enjoy myself.

"Do you remember how to ride a bike?" I asked Devon, as she wobbled about and seemed to struggle with her balance. Teasing her, I added, "Need some training wheels? I think I have some somewhere ... from when my niece was younger."

"Oh, I'll be okay," Devon assured me, only needing a few seconds to steady herself and feel comfortable, and at ease. "There. You never forgot how to ride a bike, Jeremy." The living, breathing aphrodisiac shot quickly ahead of me on the road. "Hey ... this thing rides like a dream!"

"It should, considering how much it cost," I yelled back.

-------

The smell of over-ripe guava was in the air, while fading sunlight pierced the forest canopy and danced on the flora all around us as Devon and I carefully negotiated our way on the bicycles through ginger patches and blooming orchids. An opening in the thick vegetation provided a stunning view of the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean, contrasting with the many shades of green. Overhead, colorful native birds fluttered about from tree to tree while singing their lovely melodies of joy. With a cool breeze in my face and the sun upon my back, this was island living at its very best.

These lush slopes on the southwestern side of the island harbored many miles of dirt track that eventually gave way to volcanic cinder road. Soon, the path was leading us up a hill that became quite arduous to pedal. Thus, Devon and I found ourselves walking the bicycles instead of riding them. I could have made it up this hill when I was younger.

"Does this trail lead to any particular place?"

"The cliffs are just up ahead," I told Devon in response. "I think that you will enjoy the view they offer."

"I don't doubt you," she commented. "I haven't found one thing about this island of yours that doesn't fascinate or astonish me. The mansion and all of the many gadgets you have in it, the beaches, the ocean, the forest ... everything. Everything! It's all fascinating."

"I am glad that you are enjoying your time here."

"Tell me about yourself," was her quiet request. "How long have you lived here on the island?"

"A long time, 16 years. Yeah ... really long time."

"And you have always stayed here by yourself?"

I nodded and replied, "Yes, pretty much. Louisa lives and works here with me, off and on, whenever I have company - whether that be you girls, my family or a good friend of mine named Kristanna. Remember? I mentioned her earlier during our hike. She left that message on the boulder."

"I remember," Devon countered, turning her head to look up at me. "Didn't you say that she was coming here, too?"

"Yes dear, she is. Hopefully sooner rather than later. She is having some sort of problem with her passport in her home country. Kristanna really helped me plan and set up everything here for you and the other girls. It is really killing her that she isn't here with us right now."

"I don't have to ask if she is pretty or not. With a name like that, she HAS to be pretty. Can I ask what type of name that is? Is it foreign? I really like that name."

"Yes, Kristanna is originally from Norway," I responded. "That is what the secret message was written in - Norwegian. Anyway, besides my family, she is the one who has visited me the most. I've known her for about four years now. As a matter of fact, Kristanna has actually visited me MORE times here on the island than my family has. Many more times. Keep in mind that it is a mighty, mighty long trip for her."

"Where are you from, originally?" Devon wondered. "Me, I have spent my whole life in boring, old Pennsylvania."

"Ohio."

"Did you grow up in Ohio?"

"No," I answered, shaking my head. "Well, kind of. My father was transferred to New Jersey when I was in the seventh grade. So I was uprooted and lived there, with him and my mother, until I graduated from high school. Then he was transferred again, and we all moved to Los Angeles. After leaving home, I spent some time in Oregon on my own."

"You've lived on this island for 16 years, right? That means you were 22 when you moved here?"

"Yes. I bought this island from a private developer in April of 1996. It was just a big chunk of barren land back then. Some business associates of mine thought I should turn it into an exclusive, high-rent resort, but I had different ideas. I wanted it strictly for myself. I had the mansion and all of the other man-made things, such as the pool, rock fountains and athletic complex - along with everything else - built from scratch. This is all my idea."

Devon took a deep breath and smiled. "Let me say you did a wonderful job. How could you possibly afford everything?"

I smiled at her and replied, "Money is not an issue for me, dear. It hasn't been since I was 20."

"What happened when you were 20?"

"I really rather not go into any specifics about my money and career just yet," were my words. "I've learned over the years that money - especially lots of it - can ruin chances of a possible relationship. I rather get to know you first, Devon, and vice-versa, before talking about my money."

"I can live with that," she purred, placing the side of her face on my shoulder as we continued to walk our bicycles along the steep, narrow path. "A possible relationship, huh? Have you ever had the feeling, Jeremy, that someone was SO right for you?" The image of Pamela immediately popped into my mind - she was still technically my _number one_ - as Devon continued, "I mean ... so AMAZINGLY right?"

When the blonde increased her grip on my arm, my eyes suddenly went wide in response. I realized that Devon was talking about me! I was the someone who was so right for her? So amazingly right? My body tingled at the mere idea.

Devon had dropped a series of powerful hints concerning her feelings for me since the dinner reception last evening. First it was the unexpectant kiss on my cheek, followed by the bold proclamation that I was already her favorite. And today, she offered me another gentle kiss while complimenting me on the thorough job I had done in preparing the island for not only her, but all of the other female guests as well.

During our earlier hike to the waterfall - when all of the ladies tagged along - it seemed as if every single time that I looked at Devon, her eyes were trained solely on me. I even got the sense that she could not stop looking at me...

I was starting to piece the puzzle together. Did Devon feel the same way about me as I supposedly did about Pamela? Or, felt about Pamela immediately following our sexual encounter earlier this afternoon? Was she in love with me?

When it became quite obvious that I would not answer her question - if I ever had the feeling that someone was so amazingly right for me - Devon purred and snuggled her face even tighter on my arm. She seemed to be very happy being this close to me. I have to admit that I enjoyed being so close to her as well. Any normal man would be.

"Do you ever go to the beach in Pennsylvania?" I asked, wanting to break the silence between us. I could not think of anything else to say. Being so incredibly close to the ocean now, it was a good, safe statement on my part.

"Sometimes," she answered. "They are always so crowded when the weather is nice, though, so I usually just decide to stay away. Plus, I was always busy with work."

"Work can be a downer," I chuckled.

"I really don't like the beaches back home, anyway," she said. "The water is polluted, people are out in droves and, believe it or not, my body in a bikini seems to attract the guys. I get hit on every single time that I go there."

"NOOOOO!" I huffed, insinuating (in a playful tone) that she was lying to me. "You get hit on? Gee, I wonder why?"

Devon shook her head in an equally playful manner as we walked our bicycles up the pathway. Soon, the two of us would reach the cliffs overlooking the water. "I have become very picky and selective when it comes to guys as I have gotten older - especially after I broke up with my last boyfriend, Barrett. I am not going to allow myself to get involved with someone like him ever again. And to be honest, I have never really liked guys approaching me ... guys hitting on me. I like to be the instigator."

"You have obviously been the instigator with me."

Devon nodded her head. "Precisely. You meet all of the qualifications that I look for in a man, Jeremy. That is difficult to do because, as I said, I am really picky."

"Oh? What qualifications do you look for?"

Devon smiled. "I realized long ago that no one person - man or woman - is perfect, so what I look for is the right man for me. I want a man who is very honest and caring. I am honest myself, you know, so it has to work both ways. I also want a man to be very compassionate and romantic, kind, loving ... one who has a good sense of humor. Romance is VERY important to me. I also want a man who loves animals."

"This island is a zoo," I grinned, referring to all of the many pets that Kristanna and I cared for.

"It also helps if the man is incredibly sexy," Devon said in a peppy, cheerful voice, gaining my full attention in the process. I still thought of myself as a normal, ordinary man in terms of physical appearance and build. Living in solitude for 16 years can do that to you. Devon, however, thought I was _sexy_. I was temporarily speechless. Not only speechless, but my mind was drawing a blank as well.

"So ... you see, Jeremy? You meet up with all of my many qualifications. You are fun, charming, honest and sincere, very romantic. At least, you seem like a romantic. You are also very, very respectful, and I like that as well. And you are incredibly sexy, too!"

I shook my head in a vigorous manner. "I agree with you on your assessment of me, except for the very last part. I never thought that I was anything more than the average..."

"Believe it," Devon interjected, her blue eyes glowing with adoration, her voice sincere, as she looked over at me. "You are a sexy man." The 27-year-old goddess emphasized her point by grasping my right hand with her left as we continued walking our bicycles up the cinder trail. "Pamela thinks you are sexy, too. So does Lindsay, Trish, and especially Amy."

"They told you this?" I asked, stunned.

"We talk, Jeremy," she replied. "All of us girls talk. We kind of have a sorority thing going on here between us."

"You named everyone except for Camille..."

"Camille is still holding back for some reason," Devon informed me. "She is still not ready to put her faith and trust in you like the rest of us have. Camille still finds it difficult to believe that you are paying us all this money to come here and simply spend the summer with you." Devon shrugged her shoulders and added, "But she is coming around, though. Slowly but surely, Camille is coming around."

"Trish thinks that I am sexy, too?"

Devon nodded her head in response. "She certainly does."

"Trish has actually noticed me with Lindsay around?"

Devon giggled. "Trish likes you, Jeremy. I know that Trish is totally focused and zeroed-in on Lindsay, but the girl is not blind. Trish likes you a lot." Devon shrugged her shoulders and added, "I mean ... is there anything NOT to like about you? If there is, we haven't found it yet."

Suddenly feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, a wide smile came to my face and stayed there for several seconds. It felt wonderful to receive such an added boost of positive reinforcement about myself from a woman as beautiful and as charming as Devon. And the others (with the possible exception of Camille) felt the same way about me? That I was a good-looking and handsome man? Lindsay too?

"Well, you already know that I think you are incredibly sexy as well," I told Devon, running my thumb across the back of her fingers as we held hands. She smiled at me as I kept talking, "Everything about you is perfect."

"No one is perfect, Jeremy," Devon corrected me.

"You are."

Devon grinned, but shook her head. "One who looks for a soul-mate without faults will have none." My eyebrows raised at her insightful words. "That's an old saying, Jeremy. It means if you search for perfection and settle for nothing less, you will search forever and never find it. I realized that many years ago. No one is perfect." Devon rolled her head about in a dreamy fashion and gave me a quirky look. "But you are as close to perfection as I've found in a man."

Now feeling light-headed, with my heart fluttering and my spine tingling with emotion, I recounted Devon's kind words within my mind several times in succession. This was simply incredible to me. I look at how energized and alive that I felt right now compared to just two weeks ago, and there is no comparison. I owed all of it to these lovely ladies! Their mere presence was having a profound effect on me...

"Oh wow!..." Devon gushed, suddenly awestruck, as she dropped her bicycle and ran over to the edge of the cliff. We had finally reached our destination.

The awesome scenery and a kaleidoscope of landscapes atop this 3,218-foot windswept perch had, quite obviously, caught Devon's appreciative eyes. With clean air and the pristine ocean below, it was easy for Devon to drink in the freshness of panoramic views. Lush gulches and mountains extended in several directions, with the sheer, green cliff wall directly beneath her dropping into brilliant turquoise waters.

"Look!" Devon exclaimed, suddenly hopping about, as she pointed toward something off in the distance. "LOOK!"

"What is it?" I asked, rushing to her side.

"It's a Humpback Whale!" Still pointing, Devon soon began hopping again. "Oh look ... a baby whale, too! It must be a mommy whale and her baby!"

Devon was obviously excited - and for good reason. I stood beside her and admired the majestic sight of a mother Humpback and a lone calf thousands of feet below us, basking and gliding about just beneath the surface of the ocean.

Squealing with delight, Devon clapped her hands together when the larger whale sprang completely out of the water and arched its massive torso, then dove right in back head-first. The mother whale then floated upon its side and extended its pectoral fin skyward for several seconds, before traveling into the depths of the ocean and eventually disappearing. The younger whale, of course, followed its mother.

"Oh ... come back!" Devon whined, now clutching my wrists with both of her hands. "Please come back, mommy whale and baby whale! I want to watch you two play some more!"

"Probably just came up for a breath or two," I speculated. "It is strange to see a Humpback Whale in this part of the Pacific, though. Usually, they are in the waters between Hawaii and Alaska. Maybe those two strayed?"

"Awwwww..." Devon frowned, now resigned to the fact that the two whales were indeed gone. "Have you seen any other whales in the waters here over the years, Jeremy?"

"A couple of Humpbacks," I nodded. "Mostly, the ones around here are Blue, Southern Right and Sperm whales."

Devon was giggling. "SPERM WHALES? Are you serious?"

I caught onto her joke and was laughing as well. "Yes, Sperm whales. I'm not making that up." I offered her a peculiar look. "You've never heard of Sperm whales?"

She shook her head. "No, I sure haven't. You're not kidding, huh? Do you know where they get their name from?"

"I think they produce some sort of wax substance which comes out of their blowhole," was my best guess. "I am sure that you have read _Moby Dick_, right?" She nodded as I added, "_Moby Dick_, in the book, was a Sperm whale."

"I haven't read that book since I was like nine or ten," Devon countered. "Back then, I had no reason to think anything of the term SPERM whale. Otherwise, I am certain that I would have remembered it." She giggled again. "It makes sense, though. _Moby Dick_ being a Sperm whale ... dick, sperm ... get it?"

"Don't go getting naughty on me now," I grinned. When Devon took her bicycling helmet off and tossed it to the ground, I smiled at her again. "You like the views atop this cliff, huh? It will be dark soon, but we can find our way back to the mansion quite easy regardless. I know every inch of this island. Want to stay here for a while?"

"If you don't mind."

"Not at all. Not at all..." I retrieved Devon's water bottle from her bicycle and gave it to her. As she took a healthy swig, I reached out and grasped her free hand. "You have to admit something, dear."

"What's that?"

"This island sure beats living in Pennsylvania."

Devon laughed. "Or anywhere else!" She gazed out at the tropical paradise before her. "This place is like a dream. It's like a postcard come to life."

I bravely slid behind Devon and wrapped both of my arms around her waistline. I offered her a little squeeze and placed my chin on the top of her right shoulder. "You are what is like a dream, Devon. Not this island ... but you."

Instead of replying verbally, Devon simply let out a content, pleasurable moan and covered both of my hands at her stomach with her own. As she gazed out at the ocean, I planted a series of angel kisses on the exposed portion of her neck. Devon wiggled her hips for a brief moment, then jutted her shapely ass onto my pelvis in a playful manner. That subtle move caused my cock to twitch with excitement.

Glancing over her shoulder at me, Devon reached back with her left hand and gently massaged my shaft through the shorts that I had on. Giggling again, Devon pecked the tip of my nose with a kiss. "The best part of this island, Jeremy, is you." She shook her and then cooed, "Without a doubt."

I placed one hand on her hip and the other across her left breast, cupping and kneading it through the skin-tight yellow top which she wore. "You're so gorgeous..."

Still looking over her shoulder at me, I sought Devon's lips with my own and the two of us shared a very deep and slow-moving, languid kiss. When it was over, I peppered various spots, including her eyes, eyebrows, nose, cheeks and forehead with a series of light, loving kisses. Soon, my right hand slid upward and found a big, luscious breast. It joined my left hand as I now eagerly groped and mauled Devon's breasts. I could definitely get used to this.

I released my grip on Devon's body when she began to wiggle and squirm about. Gazing directly into my eyes, the 27-year-old enchantress then latched her hand onto my wrist and slowly guided me away from the edge of the cliff. Soon, she removed her bicycling gloves and tossed them elsewhere. Her water bottle was now a distant memory, too.

I gulped my throat and sighed with pure arousal as Devon closed the distance between us and pressed her awesome body against mine in a suggestive manner. Next a growl emanated from me as Devon once again found the pulsating lump in my shorts with her right hand. She immediately began stroking.

"I want you, Jeremy," the gorgeous vixen purred, her voice soft and sensuous. "I want you right now."

Devon paused for a moment, her eyes trained on my face, then pressed her lips to mine and kissed me in the most tender of fashions. Yet within my body, it felt as if a series of earthquakes and subsequent aftershocks were taking place. I was attracted to Devon so very much! I wanted to luxuriate and revel in that remarkable body of hers. God, I said inwardly. Her mouth tasted wonderful through our kiss.

"Hmmmmm..." Devon moaned, grinning, withdrawing her lips from mine for a brief second. She heightened the intensity on my cock, however, gripping and squeezing it roughly through the pair of cargo shorts that I wore.

She offered me another kiss, then pulled back and studied my face for a moment. I am quite positive that Devon saw a look of unequaled lust in my eyes. She must have enjoyed it, too, because her lips were soon kissing mine again.

"Oh God..." I groaned against our kiss, as she unbuttoned my shorts and dug her right hand down deep into them. A sudden rush of pleasure vibrated throughout my body as Devon then slid that hand into my briefs, and found the naked flesh of my throbbing cock. Devon busily frigged it while slipping her warm, soft tongue into my mouth for a taste.

With her left hand, Devon grasped my right and pulled it toward one of her large, heavenly breasts. She placed my hand on it and offered a soft nudge, which instinctively caused me to cup and squeeze the full mound of flesh.

"Hmmmmm ... that's it," Devon encouraged me. "Touch me, Jeremy." She rolled her head in circles and added, "You like touching me there? Do you like touching my breasts?"

"God, yes!" I growled in response, my eyes wide and glazed over with total passion. "I love every single inch of you!"

My senses were alive with emotion and desire. I wanted to sink myself into this woman so bad, and become lost in her. Just completely lost in her - and never find my way out. Everything about Devon seemed like a total fantasy to me. A fantasy that I never wanted to end!

After another loving, tongue-filled kiss, Devon took a step back and offered me a playful smile. She then pecked my cheek with her lips and slinked her way down to my neck. Shivers resulted as she nibbled on the sensitive skin of my neck, her hand still frigging my erection. My hand, however, seemed to lose contact with her large breast.

Then, I growled like a madman as Devon slowly but surely dropped to her knees in front of me. She reached upward and placed her right hand on my chest, then trailed it all the way down to my waist in a very teasing, sensuous manner.

"I've been waiting for this very moment to happen ever since I first saw you," Devon swooned. She pulled my shaft out of my shorts and allowed it to wobble about in front of her adoring eyes. "I want to suck your cock so bad."

"Oh God..." I moaned, as Devon latched onto my shaft with her right hand and squeezed it firmly.

"I've never needed anyone in my life more than I need you right now," she added, an instant before opening her mouth and literally swallowing the full length of my cock into it. "You sexy thing..." I tossed my head back and moaned wildly as, after those words from Devon, she bobbed back-and-forth on my aching member, her delicate, savory tongue and mouth working my entire body into a hot, delirious frenzy.

Perched on her knees atop this high-steeped cliff with panoramic views in every direction, Devon was absolutely ravenous and insatiable - her lush, velvety mouth gliding back-and-forth on my erection as if this were her first meal in days. Devon was like a wild animal!

Sounds of pure passion and hunger were coming from deep within her throat as her blonde head continued on with its wicked, non-stop bobbing motion. Soon, I had to take a step back and lean against my propped-up bicycle. Without its support, I may have toppled over. There were many emotions running throughout my body at this moment in time. The only reason for that, of course, was because I was with Devon.

The young woman gripped the base of my shaft with her right hand and squeezed it roughly, her pretty eyes flashing with burning desire as she withdrew my aching length from the confines of her mouth. Devon looked up at me and smiled warmly. Now, Devon seemed to realize that she had me curled around her finger. My body was about to burst in flames.

"Oh yeah," Devon grinned, her hand now a blur as she frigged my erection. "Are you gonna cum for me, big boy? Are you gonna shoot it all over my face? Yes! Cum for me! Come on, Jeremy ... cum for me. Cum all over my face!"

"OHHHHH!" I roared out in arousal, as the first jet of thick, gooey sperm erupted from within my shaft and landed across Devon's forehead. The second quickly followed, hitting her square in the nose. Devon then took my cock back into her mouth and sucked on it fiercely, coaxing the third and fourth explosions out in rapid-fire succession. It all happened so fast, but was thoroughly satisfying.

"Hmmmmm," Devon growled, her lips still wrapped tightly around my shaft, as she squeezed every last ounce of sperm out of it with her hand. Finally, Devon withdrew my cock from her mouth and offered me yet another winning smile.

The gobs of semen I had sprayed all over Devon's face had saturated it completely. Her face was covered with my wet, sticky juices, and she obviously enjoyed the feeling. I had _NEVER_ seen a woman look quite this happy and vibrant because of something that I did for (or to) her. She was _definitely_ floating high in the clouds right now.

Devon then displayed her playful, teasing side yet again, this time slowly but surely lifting her little yellow top up, and over her head, before twirling it about with her hand and then tossing it to the side. Now topless, she smiled at me once again while saying, "Isn't this fun, Jeremy?"

My eyes went wide and I nodded in response, but chose not to say anything as I gazed down at her. _LOOK AT THAT BODY_. That was now my only thought. That awesome body would look real nice nestled all snug and tight against me every night for the rest of my life. In my bed ... as my wife. _YES_!

I moaned yet again as Devon soon slid her yellow shorts down her shapely hips and thighs, and eventually off. Her white G-string came next, and now this wicked vixen stood before me in nothing more than a pair of athletic sneakers.

Devon had the enticing curves of a centerfold, which was quite fitting, because she could easily pose as one if the idea ever interested her. If you combine that body of hers to her angelic face, with its high cheekbones, lush mouth and truly hypnotic eyes, the end result would be a pure visual aphrodisiac. Devon was a work of sculpted art.

Even more importantly than that, however, Devon obviously felt a deep attraction for me as well. I harbored similar feelings for her. How come it took us so long to meet up with one another? How come I wasted away for so many years in total isolation on this island, while Devon - who seemed to be an ideal match for me - was out there in the world? She had been waiting for me to rescue her from a bad job and unfulfilling life. Those thoughts flashed throughout my mind in this very wild moment of unadulterated passion. How come I did not meet Devon ten years ago? How come we weren't married with screaming children running around the house?

Devon nodded her head at me and said, "I know what I want, Jeremy, and you're gonna give it to me." She then rose to her feet and turned her back to me.

Now glancing over her shoulder one more time, Devon bent over ever-so-slightly at the waist, jutting her magnificent ass outward. She twitched her hips seductively, flaunting that ass for my appreciative eyes, and spoke in her most sultry, sexy tone, "Fuck me, Jeremy."

A tremendous amount of life and energy suddenly forged its way into my cock. It was as if my shaft was a balloon, and it was being pumped full of air by a helium machine. Devon's words and actions were the primary reason for that, too. In fact, they were the sole reason.

"Fuck me, Jeremy," the blonde purred, still glancing over her shoulder at me, her hips rolling and undulating in a slow, sizzling manner. "Come on ... fuck me. Put your cock in my pussy. Pound me with your cock! Do it! DO IT NOW!"

That was it.

With an animalistic growl, I stepped forward and latched onto Devon's hips with both hands, then thrusted my cock hard and fast into the silken depths of her little pussy. Devon tensed up for a brief moment, then placed both hands onto her kneecaps and held on tight, using them for support, before glancing over her shoulder at me yet again.

"Fuck me, Jeremy!" she demanded. "FUCK ME NOW!"

I did not need any further coaxing. My hips were already a blur as I hammered myself in-and-out of Devon at a very powerful, blazing rate of speed. And almost on cue, Devon began with a verbal tirade very similar to the one Pamela used earlier today while having sex with me in the library.

"GOD, YES! YES! Fuck me! Fuck me! HMMMMM ... pound me with that big cock! Hurt me with it, Jeremy! Yes! FUCK YES! OH GOD YES, FUCK ME! FUCK ME, JEREMY! FUCK ME!"

My whole body was seemingly in a different reality as I drilled Devon with every last ounce of strength I could muster. I could not believe, at this time at least, how I could have possibly survived without luxuriating in this voluptuous body of hers for as long as I had. How could I have lived 38 years without this woman in my life? Things would be so much better if we met each other long ago.

"HMMMMM ... FEELS SO GOOD!" Devon continued, her loud cries and screams literally echoing throughout the forest. "FEELS SO GOOD! YES! YES! FUCK ME! OH FUCK YES, THIS IS WHAT I NEED! FUCK ME, JEREMY! YES! FUCK ME!"

The sound my pelvis made as it crashed hard into Devon's upturned ass with every forward stroke was violent, and almost scary. I was certain that I had never used such excessive force on a woman before. Not Pamela, not Amy, not even my good friend, Kristanna. I was not afraid of hurting Devon, though. This is what she wanted from me. It would be safe to assume that she probably wanted more.

Of course, we were in the most naughty of positions, too. Devon's legs were widespread and she was bent at the waist, holding onto her knees, as I battered into her from behind. I was glad that we had this type of privacy...

"You know what, Jeremy?" Devon asked, her voice now low and controlled, yet still tented with erotic passion. "I don't OHHHHH ... I don't ... I don't need any man in my life except you! I don't WANT any man at all except YOU!"

In response to those words, my body received a new, even greater burst of energy. Where it came from, I do not know. But as a result, Devon was the beneficiary.

"OH GOD, JEREMY! THAT FEELS SO GOOD! OH FUCK ... YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM! FUCK ... YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME _CUMMMMM_!"

My breathing ragged, it felt as if my body was going to spontaneously combust. My head literally in the clouds, I gave Devon everything I possibly could in terms of power and effort. It was only a matter of seconds before her words proved to be prophetic. Devon screamed out in a wild, very intense orgasm, while I lost grip of my own self-control.

The action hit its fever pitch once I pistoned my cock into her swollen, little pussy one final time. An instant later, I roared out - screaming at the top of my lungs - while depositing a fresh batch of sperm into the blonde's exquisite pussy. I pumped my thick seed into her womb for several seconds, while both of us continually rocked and rumbled together in the throes of sweet orgasm and release. Again, how could I have lived without Devon for so long? She was everything that I had ever fantasized about...

Before I knew what happened next, Devon had dislodged her pussy from my shaft and dutifully dropped to her knees. She then swallowed my cock whole, and began to milk whatever juices remained in it down her hungry, greedy throat.

The young woman then wrapped both arms around my waist and held on tight even as I took a few steps back, just so I could lean upon my bicycle once again. Her mouth, of course, never released its warm, slippery grip on my relieved shaft.

I then took a deep breath and sighed in pure satisfaction, while glancing downward and admiring Devon's blonde head as she still slurped away at my cock. I touched her head and caressed it with my right hand, which caused her to look up at me with an overwhelming sense of devotion in her eyes.

"We should call you _SPERM WHALE_ from now on, Jeremy!" Devon snickered, a thick, gooey strand of jizz dangling from her chin in a very nasty, obscene manner. "Big sperm whale!"

"How about we call you _mommy whale_ from now on?" was my breathless suggestion. "I will be the _daddy whale_."

"HMMMMM..." she groaned in response.

As Devon swallowed my deflated shaft and began working it over with her mouth once again, all of a sudden, my whole body felt numb. My legs gave out from underneath me, and I collapsed into a seated position on the ground.

Sighing contently, I reached out with my right hand and caressed the crown of Devon's head. Her mouth still full of my cock, she made eye contact with me and smiled. My heart vibrated within my chest as I proclaimed, "You are one incredible woman, Miss Devon. Simply incredible."

Giggling, Devon released my cock from the clutches of her mouth and then took a seat in my lap. She aligned her sperm-soaked face with my own, then offered me yet another glittering smile. Her eyes were so serene, so peaceful...

I got the overwhelming sense that Devon was in love with me. I do not know why, but it was pretty obvious. A woman who was not only drop-dead gorgeous, but also so very sweet and kind-hearted was madly in love with me. Me? Me? It made no sense to me whatsoever. She was in love with _ME_?

Yet for my entire life, I had dreamed and fantasized about finding a woman who would have such genuine, pure thoughts for me. All I ever wanted was to get married, have a couple of children and grow old with my wife, while using our love as an unbreakable foundation for a life-long relationship. Even as a teen-ager growing up, I wanted to be married by the age of 18. It was ... the _ultimate_ for me.

The great majority of women throughout my adult life did not even want to truly love or care about me. They were far too interested in my billion-dollar empire than the person that I was inside. For most of the women I had known, they looked at me as a free ride through life. Sad, but true.

Yet Devon seemed to be someone who did have those genuine, pure thoughts for me. What did it matter that she and I met a little more than 24 hours ago? Love does not make always make sense, or come across with logic. Love can be crazy and unpredictable. But it is the greatest feeling in the whole, wide world when you experience it. Yes, it is.

Although Devon seemed to be my absolute _dream woman_ in every sense of the imagination, I found myself fighting the urge to anoint her as my unquestioned favorite of all of the ladies. I wanted to take another step back before coming to that all-important final decision. I still had these six weeks on the island with the entire group intact, so there was no need to rush things. Whomever I ultimately chose as my favorite - and hopefully my bride-to-be - I wanted to be _absolutely_ certain that she was the right girl for me.

"I know what _I_ want, dear Jeremy," Devon swooned, still smiling brightly, as she wrapped her arms around my neck and shoulders. Nestled on my lap, I slid my arms around Devon as she added, "I want us to stay right here - holding each other - for the rest of our lives. Hmmmmm, this is Heaven!"

How could I possibly choose anyone other than Devon?...



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Chapter 4: Burlesque


Dear Applicant,

Thank you for your interest in Project: Island Fever. My name is Jeremy and, as the overseer of this program, I am extremely pleased that you would like more information on spending six weeks of your life with me on the island that I call home in the South Pacific. To begin the application process, I respectfully request that you fill out the basic information sheet that you see below and mail it back to me by no later than December 31, 2011. If there are any questions that you prefer not to answer (or do not know the answer to), you may simply leave them blank.

Once your basic information sheet is received, it will be evaluated and reviewed and, if it meets certain criteria, you will receive a more detailed application and accompanying questionnaire in the mail by no later than January 21, 2012.

If you are one of the (only) six women who are ultimately chosen to take part in Project: Island Fever, you will be compensated for your time, effort and energy at no less than $100,000 USD. Much more information concerning compensation and what will be expected of you is available in the 19 page booklet that was also included in this mailing.

If, for whatever reason, you are no longer interested in taking part in this project, simply discard this letter and do not respond. You will not be contacted/bothered again. I hope that you are interested, though, and that you take the time to fill out the following information sheet and send it back to me at the return address listed on the previous page. Remember, the deadline date is December 31, 2011!

Thank you -- Jeremy [Last Name]

Please answer the questions below in your own words:

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FULL NAME: Devon Marie [Last Name]
ADDRESS: [Street Address]
[City Name], PA [Zip Code]
HOME TELEPHONE: (835)xxx-xxxx
CELL TELEPHONE: (835)xxx-xxxx
BIRTHDATE: 3/28/1985 ZODIAC SIGN: Aries
WHERE BORN: Allentown, PA
FATHER NAME: Dennis
MOTHER NAME: Madeline
BROTHERS AND SISTERS, NAMES AND AGES:
Patricia - 30, Michael - 24, Seth - 22
PETS - WHAT KINDS AND NAMES:
Three cats (Gizmo, Sassy and Jasmine)
And a baby kitten - named BOO
HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATE?: Yes
DID/ARE YOU ATTEND/ING COLLEGE?: Yes
IF YES, WHERE?: Kutztown University (Kutztown, PA)
ARE YOU STILL ATTENDING?: No
DID YOU GRADUATE?: Yes (2007)
COLLEGE DEGREE?: Yes - in Project Management
EMPLOYED AS: Project Manager
EMPLOYED WHERE: [Company Name] in Laureldale, PA
LENGTH OF EMPLOYMENT: Five years
MOST PREVIOUS JOB (IF ANY): Department store clerk

-- PERSONAL STATISTICS --

HEIGHT: 5-3 COLOR HAIR: Blonde
WEIGHT: 105 COLOR EYES: Blue
SHIRT SIZE: Small
DRESS SIZE: Small
TROUSER, IN-SEAM:
SHOE SIZE: 6-1/2
MEASUREMENTS: 34D-22-32
RING SIZE:

-- FAVORITES --

ACTOR: Brad Pitt
ACTRESS: Sarah Michelle Gellar
SINGER: Richard Marx
FOOD: French fries and burritos
CITY: New York
COUNTRY (OTHER THAN USA):
ANIMAL: Cat
FLOWER: Ginger
CAR: Porsche 911 Cabriolet Carrera convertible
TV SHOW: The X-Files
MOVIE: 9-1/2 Weeks
PERFUME: Giorgio COLOR: Hot Pink
STYLE OF CLOTHES: Tight, cute, sexy
FAVORITE EVENING ON THE TOWN (DESCRIBE IN DETAIL):

I like to get dressed up and have dinner at a nice restaurant that takes a long time. Curling up with my man on the sofa and watching an old horror movie would be the perfect capper for the evening.

WHAT QUALITIES DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A MALE/FEMALE?:

Honesty, responsibility, good looks, nice build and very loving.

DESCRIBE YOUR CURRENT FANTASY IN DETAIL:

I want to be a Playboy centerfold or a Penthouse Pet! j/k! Honestly, my fantasy is to meet the perfect man, fall madly in love with him and get married and eventually have a big, happy family. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT:

Accidentally losing my bikini top while swimming at a public beach ... OOOPS! LIST SOME PREFERRED HOBBIES:

Dancing, jet and snow skiing, swimming, bicycling, rollerblading, listening to music

PLEASE GIVE A BRIEF SUMMARY OF YOURSELF AS A PERSON:

I am a very friendly and outgoing person. I enjoy meeting new people and I treat anyone who is good to me like pure gold. I love life in general and want the world to be a very happy and peaceful place. My ultimate dream is to always be happy and have a wonderful family of my own someday soon!

-------

Ever since the time I had spent with her last evening at the cliffs overlooking the ocean, Devon was at the front and center of my mind. The mere thought of her - and the many, wondrous possibilities that may lie ahead for us if we indeed chose to pursue a relationship - had overtaken my senses. And why not? Everything about Devon seemed so very special.

The time was 8:39am on this luxurious Wednesday morning when I found myself seated at the computer terminal here within the sanctuary of my private suite. I could not stop thinking about Devon. I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know everything there was to know about Devon.

Thus, I had brought up a scanned image of the very first questionnaire Devon had filled out when inquiring about the island last year. Her cursive handwriting and its letters were big, round and bubbled, and very appealing to my eyes. I had read not only Devon's, but the questionnaires for all six of the ladies here on the island hundreds of times over the past six months. I never grew tired of them.

I still found it difficult to believe that a woman so very heavenly and radiant - like Devon most certainly was - could have such a sudden interest in a normal, ordinary man like me. Even more surprising was the simple fact that Devon seemed to be extremely straightforward and direct with those feelings. She was not afraid to pull any punches.

Never once had I thought of myself as a very desirable person in any sense of the imagination. Why would a woman such as Devon - who could literally have her choice of anyone - want to be with me? It did not make sense to me.

Or perhaps I should give myself a little more credit? Maybe, but the many years of solitude here on the island had dulled and jaded my senses - as well as my confidence - beyond all reasonable proportions. No one could spend 16 years on a remote island with minimal contact from the rest of civilization - like I have - and not feel the way I do. I have my reasons for shielding myself from others.

Still, it was time for me to accept the fact that Devon did harbor some very true and bona-fide feelings for me. I still may not understand why, but maybe I should not even concern myself with such negative thoughts anymore. The fact of the matter was that Devon already loved me.

Isn't that what I have wanted throughout my entire life? Ever since Victoria, my ex-fiancee, left me standing at the altar some 18 years ago (and shattered the person that I am inside as a result), I have yearned for someone to share my life with. Could that someone turn out to be Devon?

Telling someone (or blatantly insinuating, as Devon had) that you love them just a day or two after meeting for the first time probably would not be the smartest thing to do. However, I saw nothing wrong with having such feelings, even at an early relationship stage. I have certainly felt that way about others in the past. That is strictly my opinion, of course. Others may feel differently.

The flip-side of Devon, of course, was Pamela. Did Pamela have those same type of feelings for me? Was Pamela in love with me, too? Certainly, Pamela was the one woman of the entire group whom I had focused the most amount of energy and attention on thus far. Pamela was still my favorite (if I allowed myself to have one), but Devon was a close second.

Of course, I was not discounting Amy, either. Perhaps she had feelings for me as well? I certainly had feelings for Amy two nights ago, when she showed up at my door in her little blouse and miniskirt, and those awesome high-heels, and proceeded to tease me into bed like no woman ever had before. There was certainly good vibrations between Amy and yours truly yesterday morning when I was holding hands with her as we made our way to the breakfast table. At that moment, at least, we could have continued walking right to a wedding chapel, and I would have been forever happy.

Lindsay? The emotion and the sheer, physical desire I felt for Lindsay was quickly careening out of control. Though I was more than twice her age (what a pain it is for me to admit that), could I envision myself one day settling down with Lindsay and having a family with her?

What about Trish? Trish had been my favorite even before I met any of the ladies face-to-face. The conversations we shared together through various forms of chat (telephone, video, even text clients) always seemed to brighten my day in the time leading up to the ladies' arrival here on the island. Trish always seemed so peppy and lively, and nothing but raw, positive energy literally oozed from her.

She was, for all intents and purposes, the exact opposite of me. Or, in other terms, this Maple Leaf beauty from Toronto was the type of person that I wanted to be. Others naturally gravitated toward Trish, even if they did not have the privilege of knowing her first. Her amicable, friendly demeanor drew me to her like a magnet. What better way for me to improve my general outlook on life than by aligning myself with the pure definition of zest and spirit? Trish seemed like the ideal match for me in every sense of the imagination, though our time together thus far been limited.

Yes, there is a point I am trying to make with all of this rambling. This was just the ladies' third day on the island. They would be here for a total of 42 days. Thus, there was a voice inside my head asking me if I had jumped the gun, so to speak, a little too soon. Was it really smart to anoint any of these women as my hopeful bride just yet?

All of them (Camille included) had traits and qualities that were near and dear to my heart. Devon even stated last evening that each of them (sans Camille) was attracted to me in some form or another. And who knows? As strange and as unpredictable as my life has been thus far, perhaps Camille would ultimately turn out to be the one for me?

So, I came to the sudden conclusion that I was going to try and harness my emotions toward all of these girls - if just for a week or two. Oh, I would still get excited and rambunctious in their presence. I may even make myself look like a fool with the things I say or do in front of them. I would most certainly come across as too straightforward and rigid in certain circumstances.

However, I was going to try my absolute best to refrain from hearing the wedding bells jingle in my head every single time after I had sex with one of these ladies. It was not healthy for me and, of much greater importance, it was not fair for me to give them any false pretenses.

-------

My thoughts of over-analyzation were interrupted as a gentle knock came to the front door of my private bedroom. My shaft began to rustle about within my shorts as I wondered which of the ladies had decided to pay me an early morning visit. Could it be Amy? Perhaps a repeat of Monday night was in order? Did Amy require some more hard loving? If so, I was certainly more than willing to lend a helping hand.

As things turned out, it was not Amy. That was not a bad thing, mind you, considering the person standing on the opposite side of the entranceway once I opened the door was none other than the vivacious and alluring Devon.

Adorned in a classy, loose-fitting summer dress that went all the way down to mid-calf, Devon's blue eyes flashed as she offered me a friendly smile. The dress that she wore was a predominantly dark color, but had decorative, flower-print designs all over it. Devon looked absolutely beautiful.

"Hi stranger!"

"Why, hello Devon," I said in response. "What do I owe the pleasure of your company to this morning?" I looked at my wristwatch and noticed that it was 8:46am. Less than eight hours ago, Devon and I finally made our way back to the mansion after the bicycle ride that eventually turned into an after-hours hike. Of course, I could not forget the rip-roaring sexual encounter we shared in-between.

Devon clutched both hands together at her stomach and looked down for an instant, while twirling a sandal-clad foot about upon the carpet. She then made eye contact with me and proclaimed, "I had a really fun time with you last night, Jeremy. I just ... I just wanted you to know that. I haven't had so much fun in a long, long time."

I smiled at her. "It sure was an incredible evening. I had a wonderful time with you as well."

Devon stepped closer and wrapped both arms around my body in a friendly, leisurely manner. She placed the side of her face upon my chest and held it there for several seconds, perhaps listening to the sound of my heartbeat. "I should have took you up on your offer last night, too."

"Oh?" I countered, my hands now on her shoulders.

Devon ended the embrace and looked directly up at me. "I should have spent the night with you here, in your room."

"There is always other nights," I assured her.

She shook her head and murmured, "I was thinking Camille would have been awake, waiting for me, in our guest room. She knew that I wanted to go out and do something with you last night. I was positive that she would have been there waiting ... wanting to know what happened between us." Devon paused for a moment, then continued, "That wasn't the case at all. Instead of Camille, I found Pamela in my room."

"Pamela?" I said, confused. "What was she doing there?"

Devon giggled. "Apparently, the story goes that Amy and Camille began drinking last night and got really, really tipsy and light-headed. They started making out with each other and were soon having wild, passionate sex. Because they were drunk, Pamela wanted no part of it. She left them in her and Amy's room, then snuck into the room I share with Camille and tried to get some sleep." Devon snickered again and added, "Pamela claimed that the sounds and screams each of them made kept her awake for more than an hour. In fact, Pamela said, things had just settled down between Amy and Camille about ten minutes before I showed up. So ... long story short, I shared a room with Pamela last evening."

"Did you two ... talk at all?"

Devon nodded her head. "For a bit, yes. I told her that you and I wound up going on a date, among other things."

"Oh? What did she have to say about that?" The possible answer to that question worried me, and for good reason. Early that afternoon, Pamela and I had sex together in the library. We were making promises and insinuations of true commitment to each other all throughout. Hours later, Pamela learned, I was having sex with Devon underneath the brilliant fusion of the setting sun at dusk. Indeed, what was Pamela's response to that little tidbit of information?

"She really didn't have anything to say," Devon replied. "I told her that we went on a bike ride. One thing led to another, I told her, and you and I wound up having sex." Devon snickered in a playful manner and added, "She did seem a bit jealous. I bet Pamela wishes that that it was her with you, instead of me."

"Jealous, huh?" Hmmmmm. I wondered if Pamela would be angry at me. Would there be any sort of resentment? This was why I had to curb my emotions in relation to the ladies somewhat. I could not start envisioning my future bride every time I stuck my cock into one of them. Nor could I talk and strongly hint at the possibilities with them. It was not fair. I had, in essence, led Pamela on.

"What about Lindsay and Trish?" Ahhhhh yes, Lindsay ... my sweet, little, wholesome, virgin girl. I was curious what her and her room-mate, Trish, had been up to. "Do you know if they did anything ... special ... last night?"

Devon shrugged her shoulders. "I don't think so. Pamela told me that Lindsay was still feeling a bit of jet-lag from the airline flight here. She said that Lindsay went to bed around 9:45 or so. I guess Trish called it a night shortly thereafter. Both of them were fast asleep when I peeked in on them around two o'clock in the morning."

Concerned, I found myself lost in thought for a moment or two. "If Lindsay isn't feeling better today, I am going to talk to a doctor friend of mine over in Peru and get her some specialized medication express delivered here."

"I think she will be fine," Devon offered. "It was her first time ever on an airplane. All she needs is time. I bet Lindsay will feel a million times better today."

"Let's hope so," I sighed.

"How was your night?" Devon inquired, her blue eyes again flashing. My God, her eyes were so pretty...

"It'd been much better if you were here to spend it with me, sweetheart. Instead, I had to spend it all alone."

Devon reached out and placed her right hand upon my chest and even offered a tiny pout to boot. "Oh, you poor baby."

I chuckled at her response. "Heh ... I was alright. I was so tired that I probably fell asleep 30 seconds after laying down on the mattress. I woke up... 20 minutes ago?"

Her hand still upon my chest, I grasped it with one of my own and brought it to my lips for a gentle, whispery kiss. Those amazing eyes of hers were just beaming with delight. Devon looked so much at peace, so at ease, right now.

"Mind if I hang out with you for a bit before breakfast?" was her simple request. "It's not even nine o'clock yet, and breakfast isn't until ten."

"It would be my pleasure," I answered, stepping aside and motioning with my free hand for her to come into the suite.

Devon strolled into the room and took a seat in a wicker chair near the big bed. "You told me a little about your past and your family last night, Jeremy. Tell me more?"

"Ask me a specific question, and I will answer it." I sat down next to her and asked, "What do you want to know?"

Devon thought things over for a brief moment, then nodded her head. "Talk to me about your dad, your mom..."

"My father is age 73 and lives in Los Angeles with his girlfriend," I began. "He is in really good shape and wants to keep working, even though I wish he would have retired a couple of years ago so he could relax for a bit. He says he will keep working until his employer forces him to retire. He is the inventory manager for an automobile parts depot in California. He and my mother, who lives in Ohio, have been separated for 14 years. They got married in 1959. My mom was with him for so long that she does not want anyone new in her life. You cannot blame her for that. She is 71 and unlike my father, has a lot of physical problems."

"Like what?"

"Nothing life-threatening, thank God," I answered. "Just the wear and tear of 71 years. And the fact that she never had a job, never got any exercise. I know she takes like eight or nine different types of medicine every single day."

"Pamela was saying that you have brothers and sisters..."

"Two brothers and one sister," I corrected her. "Dan, my oldest brother, is married and lives in Ohio with his wife and their adopted daughter, Hope. Dan had cancer back in 1995, and it zapped his body of any chance to have kids. So they turned to adoption and got Hope nine-plus years ago."

"I have a friend back home in Pennsylvania who adopted a little boy," Devon offered. "He is so cute!"

"Hope, their daughter, came from a really bad situation before my brother and his wife took her in."

"How so?"

"Her biological mother, who lived in Cleveland, I guess, wanted nothing to do with her. When she was an infant, her mother would go out and do her thing - whatever it was - and leave Hope unattended on the sofa all day long."

Suddenly, Devon was about to cry. "THAT'S AWFUL!"

"The biological mother was a drug addict, an alcoholic. She was totally unfit to be a parent. At six months old, Hope was in the hospital. She had no muscular development whatsoever. Hope just laid there, limp. The state stepped in and took her away. Dan and Susan adopted her when she was 22 months old. At that time, she was more than a year behind than most babies. Hope could barely walk and knew little, if any, words. It was like she was nine months old."

Devon did not seem all that enthused. Who wanted to be told specifics about a neglected child? However, there was a light at the end of this tunnel. So, I forged on.

"My brother and his wife have taken wonderful care of her. I visited Ohio when they first got custody of her. Eight months later, I went back for the adoption hearing in court. It was like night and day. Hope was running and bouncing about, all happy and giggling, communicating. They have been a Godsend for her. She couldn't be in a better situation."

"Still, Hope has lingering problems," I continued. "She has balance and sensory issues. She just turned 11, and had training wheels on her bicycle until last summer. That was five years' worth of training wheels, so that may give you an idea of her balance problems. And for whatever reason, the girl is scared of soap and shampoo. She throws an absolute fit when it is bath-time. The local school board evaluated her, though, and let her go into general classes with all of the other kids. She didn't have to take special education courses. I need to get up there and visit my family again."

"It's great that Hope has a good home now," Devon mused. "What about your other brother, and your sister?"

"Dan is age 48. My sister, Di, is age 51, and my other brother, Steve, is 47. Di still lives in Ohio, just like Dan. She is married and has three children - Tommy, who is 22 and already married himself, Chelsea, age 21 and Jeff, who is 17. Steve, on the other hand ... he lives in Kentucky with his wife, and their two daughters. The oldest is named Stephanie, who is 13. Their other daughter, Autumn, is age nine. Steve has been in a lot of trouble with the law ever since he was a teen-ager. He got involved with a bad crowd when he was in high school, and never recovered."

"Has he been to jail?"

I frowned. "Yes, several times. I know Steve got into a fight with some guy over some girl many years ago, and beat him up bad. He went to jail for that. I also know when he was younger, Steve and a bunch of his friends stole a car and took it down to the river, then blew it up. They thought that was funny, and it landed him in jail too. He has really been in trouble a countless number of times. I was a kid - age five - when he first got into trouble, and my parents tried to shield me from that. So I don't know everything."

"Why did he blow up a car?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "As I said, I guess Steve and his friends thought it was funny. A policeman was driving by at the time, though, and saw it happen. All of them were arrested on the spot. That was many, many years ago."

"Steve sounds like the complete opposite of you, Jeremy," Devon said. "I could never imagine you doing anything bad." She paused and added, "Your whole family, except for your father, lives in Ohio. Steve is from Kentucky, right? I am guessing all of them are from the general Cincinnati area. Why aren't you there with them? You're 5.000 miles away."

The thought of Victoria - my ex-fiancee - went dashing throughout my mind as I pouted again. "I have my reasons." Knowing that I wanted to keep our conversation positive, I decided to change the subject rather abruptly by saying, "What about you, Devon? Tell me about your family."

This time, it was Devon's turn to frown. "There isn't much to tell, really. I moved out of the house at an early age because it seemed as if my mom and dad did not want me in their lives anymore. Over the years, it got to the point where I would only see them during birthdays and holidays. Last year, though, I skipped Thanksgiving and Christmas. I didn't want to be with them because I never felt welcome."

"Why is that?" I asked, curious.

Devon sighed and answered, "I have my reasons, too."

Fair enough, I said to myself. I did not want to talk about my ex-fiancee, Victoria, with Devon just yet. She did not want to offer details about an apparent rift with her parents. Perhaps in due time, Devon and I would have enough comfort and trust that we would be sharing darker, more personal details about ourselves with each other.

"I spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with my grandparents last year," Devon told me. "They have always been supportive of me. Very loving, too. I have wonderful grandparents."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" I asked, though I already knew the answer to that question. I knew a lot about Devon and all of the other ladies, mainly thanks to all those questionnaires they filled out for me several months ago. Plus, I had detailed files on all of them.

"I was the second of four children," Devon responded. "My sister, Patricia, is the oldest. She is very, very smart. Patricia got a scholarship after graduating from high school to go to Penn State University." Devon sighed and added, "She was always my parents' favorite. Nowadays, Patricia is married and has two kids. I am SOOOOO jealous of her."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why are you jealous of Patricia? What possible reason do you have to be jealous of anyone?"

"Because I have always wanted to be married - to be a wife, a mother," Devon breathed. "To be ... happy."

"Why aren't you married, then? Why don't you have any children? Surely a woman as beautiful and as nice as you most obviously are can have her pick of any man."

Devon forced a smile at my kind words. "I ... got involved with this really bad guy named Barrett. I was with him for eight years. He treated me badly, cheated on me with other women. I ... I cared about him, I guess, and I wanted it to work. But it got to the point between us where I knew it would never work. So, I dumped him. I actually came home from work early one day, and found Barrett in OUR bed with Tabitha, who I thought was my best friend. That was it. I dumped him on the spot and cut Tabitha out of my life, too."

"How could ANYONE cheat on you?"

Devon shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. It has been almost a year since I broke up with him." Devon giggled and twirled her head about. "Since coming here to your island, I have had sex with Camille a couple of times. I was also with Amy, but that was during a three-some with Camille involved, too. That was so wild! So wild, and so fun! Now, I've been with you, too, Jeremy That is three people in three days here." Devon hesitated before admitting, "Before the island, I had sex with two people - Barrett, and an old boyfriend from high school named Tim. Two lone people in 13 years, compared to three in three days. Today it's still early ... I guess it's three in two days, actually."

"Are you complaining?"

"Oh no!" Devon gushed. "Not at all! In fact, I love it here. This is like a fantasy world for me. I have been curious about other women since I was a schoolgirl, but was never with one in a sexual sense because I was way too afraid to approach any and ask them out. Here, on the island, all of the women are just like me. I don't have to be worried about being embarrassed or humiliated, rejected, like I would back home if I asked a woman out. This island is wonderful. I love it!" Devon planted a soft kiss on my cheek and cooed, "Plus, our host is a real sweetheart."

Once again, I felt myself blushing beet-red because of something that Devon had said to me. She was obviously not afraid to speak her mind. I wanted her to open up even more.

"You told me about Patricia," I said. "You said you are the second of four children. Tell me about the others."

"My two brothers - Michael and Seth," Devon answered. "I really do not see either of them that much. Michael still lives at home with mom and dad, and Seth goes to college at West Virginia University. He is an athlete there. I have not seen him since Christmas. I have not seen Michael or my parents since my last birthday, which was March 28th. Today is what ... May 30th? I met them, as well as my sister and her husband and kids, at a restaurant in a small town in Pennsylvania called Shillington. My grandparents were there too, obviously. I got the sense, even though it was my birthday, that my mom and dad did not want to be there. I think that Patricia kind of strong-armed them into going to the restaurant since it was my 27th birthday. I haven't seen them since. I ... I haven't even TALKED to my parents since that day. The sad thing is, they only live three miles from where I do. I have no relationship with them whatsoever." Devon held back tears as she continued, "When I was in the hospital for two full nights a couple of years ago, because I was sick, they did not even come to visit me..."

"What is the problem between you and your parents?"

Devon frowned and took a deep breath. "I rather not talk about it. Not yet, anyway. It is too personal."

Not wanting to push or prod her any further, I nodded my head and decided to drop the subject. "Very well, then."

Devon stood up and slipped both of her arms around my neck and shoulders for yet another heartfelt embrace. "I like this, Jeremy. I do. Barrett would never hold me in his arms and talk to me like you are right now. Holding me, talking to me ... you're making me feel so special." Devon caressed the back of my neck with her long fingernails and purred, "I could REALLY get used to this. Everything that I know about you so far, Jeremy, I like. Everything."

"The feeling is mutual," I offered, running my fingers throughout her exquisite, long-flowing blonde hair. "I like everything I know about you too, Devon. But I want to know more. I want to know everything. In due time ... hopefully."

"I am very open and honest - brutally honest - when I feel as if I can trust someone," Devon informed me. "If we progress in our relationship and continue to move forward, you will know EVERYTHING about me. That is one of my faults in life. I'm too honest, too open about myself with others. But I can't help it. I've always been that way. I ... I just want to hold back about my parents and the problems I have with them for now. It is my big secret in life."

"It's not a fault at all," I mused. "I can be the same way, Devon. What you need is someone who will be equally open and honest with you. That person could be me."

Devon smiled at me. "I would like that very much."

"Whenever you are comfortable talking about your family issues, Devon - if that day comes - I will gladly listen to you," I advised her. "I will not judge or look down on you in any fashion whatsoever. If there was a way for me to help you and make things better, I would. Trust me on that."

"I will remember that," Devon promised me.

-------

I could have stayed in my personal suite and spoke to Devon for hours on end, but I had to eventually remind her (as well as myself) that breakfast was being served at 10:00am. I escorted Devon to the formal dining room, where we found all of the ladies gathered together at the table a few minutes before the top of the hour. A smile came to my face as a result, because I wanted this to be the routine, normal time that all of us got together each and every morning for breakfast. It was excellent to know that my lovely female guests were punctual and prompt.

"I'm going with Lindsay, Trish and Amy on a nature hike today," Camille said to not only me, but Devon and Pamela as well, here at the breakfast table. She turned toward those two and asked, "Either of you like to tag along with us?"

"I was going to do some more reading in the library," Pamela answered. "You know how I am with books. I am in the middle of a mystery novel and am dying to see how it turns out." She turned toward Devon and mused, "How about you? You should go along on the nature hike."

Devon glanced my way for an instant before saying to Pamela, "Oh, I don't know." She looked at me once again, then back at Pamela. "I have to finish unpacking my luggage, believe it or not." Was Devon being truthful to Pamela and the others? Or did she have another date with me planned? If so, I was not aware of it. "I want to get all of my clothing unpacked and hung up properly."

"My ears still hurt from that damn flight," Amy quipped.

"I know what you mean!" Lindsay squealed. "I still feel tired from it myself. Of course, I really don't like being in airplanes. That may have something to do with it. Was it your first time in the air, Amy?"

"No, but it's been awhile," she replied. "I went on a family vacation to Cancun when I was 11. I did not like flying then, and I certainly do not like it any more now. My ears felt like they were going to pop the whole trip."

"Mine too!" Pamela frowned.

"Are you feeling better today, though, Lindsay?" I asked her. "Would you like me to have some medicine choppered in for you? I heard you were feeling quite bad last night."

"I'm better now," she assured me. "I'm not 100 percent, but I'm better. Another day or two, and I'll be fine."

"What about you, Jeremy?" Trish suddenly chimed in. "Do you have any plans at all for today?"

"Oh, I don't know quite yet. I'm sure that I will think of something." Yes ... something. Like spying on the ladies with the help of the voyeur room? "I can always stay busy inside my suite. A lot of work goes into making sure all of you girls have smiles on your faces at all times."

"What do you mean?" Camille inquired, curious.

"Everything. I have to make sure we have enough food and supplies to last us each week, because the delivery boat only comes once a week - Friday. I check the Internet to see if there are any new music CDs or movies that come out on DVD that I think one of you ladies may be interested in. I check weather reports and advisories at least two or three times each day. None are on the way now, but we are guaranteed three or four nasty rainstorms, along with thunder and lightning, before these six weeks are up. NASTY storms."

"I hate storms," Lindsay sulked. "Especially lightning!"

"There's been nothing but sunshine and warm weather since we arrived on Monday," Amy observed. "But I guess I can see where an island like this - in the tropics near the equator - could get its fair share of bad weather."

"It will rain once, twice a week, on average," I told her. "But we'll get three or four good, torrential downpours, too. Really good ones; much worse than anything any of you have ever seen before. Be prepared ... because they will come."

"I don't know what's good about it," Trish mused, offering a quirky smile. "I thought I left all the bad weather behind me in Toronto when I came here. Hmmmmm ... I guess not."

"You brought it with you!" Camille exclaimed. albeit in a playful way. She received an equally playful smack on the shoulder, courtesy of Trish, as a result.

Lindsay looked at me and said, "Are these three days a good indication of what we should expect for the next six weeks?"

"Pretty much, yes," was my response, thinking to myself how incredibly polite and well-mannered Lindsay seemed to be. She was a doll in every sense of the word! "You and the others will be permitted to do whatever it is that you wish. You are your own boss here, dear. I am simply your host."

"I just feel so carefree and relaxed here," Lindsay mused. "This island is such a great atmosphere. There isn't one person here that I don't like. It really is a paradise."

"We're permitted to do whatever we want?" Amy asked me. "Let me get this straight, Jeremy. You don't expect us to cook or clean. You don't have strict rules or guidelines for us. You don't, as Camille wondered, run a slave camp."

"I didn't say that!" Camille exclaimed, perhaps a bit mad at Amy. "Tell Jeremy I didn't say that!" That was a minor lie on her part, as I eavesdropped and heard the 25-year-old say those exact words to Devon during their first night here. Her reaction was quite comical, however. Did Camille just see her chance at big money disappear before her very eyes?

"It doesn't matter, Camille," Amy told her. "It's okay. Jeremy isn't going to think any less of you for it." Amy focused her attention on me once again and continued, "No cooking or cleaning. No strict rules. No slave camp. You let us do whatever we want, yet you are paying us $100,000 at the end. One gets $500,000. What's the deal?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders.

"Why are you paying us that much money if you expect little, if anything, out of us in return?"

I hesitated for a moment, but then smiled. Although I had told Pamela of my intentions, now was not the time or place for me to inform everyone else what I wanted - which included finding the right woman, falling in love with her and ultimately, getting married. That is what I have dreamed about my entire life. It was also my goal here.

"I brought all of you here simply because I enjoy the company," I replied, still smiling. It was not a lie, but neither could it be called the whole, total truth, either. "Being here by myself for 16 years ... it can get lonely."

"My God!..." Trish huffed. "How could you stay here by your lonesome for 16 years? This island is beautiful and everything, but I would go stir-crazy without others around."

"Jeremy has a friend visit him from time to time," Devon suddenly said, straightening her posture in the chair. "Her name is Kristanna. He told me about her last night."

"Kristanna?" Lindsay asked, intrigued.

"Yes, Kristanna," I nodded. "I was just telling Devon last night that a friend of mine, Kristanna, will be showing up here real soon. In fact, she'll be here on Friday, I received a new e-mail from her just this morning. She is going to stay with us for the duration of your visit."

"This Kristanna is the one who wrote all that gibberish on the big rocks we were looking at yesterday," Camille said.

"What's she like?" Trish asked.

"Kristanna is just as beautiful - and just as bi - as the rest of you, As I told Devon, I have no doubt that she will fit in real nicely with all of you. I also told Pamela about her yesterday afternoon. Krissy is also extremely funny and jovial. I cannot say enough good things about her."

"Jeremy said she is from Norway," Devon told the others. "I like her name. I think it is really pretty ... exotic."

"She is a real sweetheart," I added. "All of you will like her just as you like each other."

I felt as if I needed to clarify something from earlier. "I DO have two homes in the United States, both of which are being looked after by family members at this moment in time. So, I have not been on this island non-stop for 16 years. I DO spend time in the United States - visiting my family - and I love to travel the world. I have been everywhere. But the majority of my life these past 16 years has been on this very island. I just find the most peace here."

"Don't you get lonely, though?" Trish asked, concerned.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't." I perked up and cheerfully added, "But there is no need for me to feel lonely now. I have all of you girls here. Kristanna will be here Friday. Life is good ... real good."

-------

By the time 12:00pm rolled around, I had taken a very long and relaxing whirlpool bath, and had myself fully prepared for whatever the remainder of the day could possibly have in store for me. Thus, I decided to venture into the adjacent voyeur room. I immediately spotted Devon on one of the monitors, lounging and relaxing in a bubble bath. It was a very tempting sight, indeed, simply because Devon was such a gorgeous woman. But I turned the monitor off. I did not want to spy on Devon like that right now.

Another monitor registered some activity in the library, where Pamela was seated at the table with a book in hand and her reading glasses on. I smiled at the image. Could anyone find fault with an exotic dancer who doubled as a true bookworm? Pamela was a very unique woman, indeed.

There was a good reason why many of my thoughts and ideas had been centered on Pamela thus far. Pamela was very sweet and considerate, and clearly had a heart of pure gold. She was the perfect representation of everything that an exotic dancer should be - a blonde and busty vision of physical perfection, with an athletic and very taut body.

Despite her awesome physical attributes, however, I still found it hard to believe that Pamela was actually a stripper. She just seemed too smart and well-refined for the stereotype that routinely went along with the profession.

Believe it or not, but I found myself trying to envision Pamela as a librarian. She loved to read, correct? Pamela would most likely make an excellent librarian. Of course, some of the customers may ask her to get on the tabletops and start dancing and stripping, and offer her money to do so. Meh ... that was a very naughty thought on my part.

Perhaps Pamela could be a flower shop attendant instead? I could easily see that. A drop-dead, stunning flower shop attendant, but one nonetheless. Her younger sister was a flower shop attendant. Pamela ... maybe an elementary school teacher? Yes, that is it. After all, that was what Pamela one day aspired to be - a teacher. Just think of all the crushes her students would have on her! Everyone in town would go to the PTA meetings just to see her.

The primary reason that Pamela was an exotic dancer was so she could live a quality lifestyle and afford to put herself through college, where her major was education. The young woman had just one more year to go, too, before obtaining her collegiate degree. Would she quit stripping then, and become a teacher? Or would Pamela be my wife by then?...

Since her arrival on the island, Pamela seemed to go with Amy almost as well as bread did with butter. The two ladies had obviously hit it off and were having a wonderful time together. It made me feel good inside that I had helped unite Pamela and Amy by bringing them with me to the island. How else could a Hooters girl from Cincinnati meet up and connect with a stripper from Baltimore? Strange, huh?

Amy was, as I eluded to earlier, a pure sex machine. I am not sure whether or not she had any limits when it came to her level of satisfaction. I wondered if Amy even knew what that word meant. She was the type of woman who could give any normal man a heart attack during an encounter if she truly wanted to. Amy was just so wild and ferocious. Would I be able to survive the summer (winter) with her?

I could sit here, in the voyeur room, and forever debate and discuss the merits of all of these wonderful ladies. However, something even more intriguing caught my eye on the only other active monitor in front of me.

-------

My gaze was suddenly locked onto that particular monitor, as Camille was currently enjoying herself underneath a cascading waterfall on the eastern side of the island.

Standing in a pool of waist-deep water, which emptied out into the ocean further below, Camille was wearing a black two-piece bikini. She was positioned directly underneath a flowing sheet of water, arching her slender neck and letting it cascade through her long, dark hair and down her body.

Camille's eyes were closed and she had a look of pure bliss across her face as she gently massaged her breasts underneath the waterfall. Taking the big globes of flesh into her hands, the 25-year-old squeezed and caressed them thoroughly. It was obvious that she loved the sensations.

Watching a gorgeous woman such as Camille grope herself like this was more than enough to give me a raging hard-on. However, only adding to my personal pleasure was the very beautiful, lush scenery in which she did it in.

The continual stream of water which cascaded onto her head from above was the centerpiece of it all. Behind the young woman was a little wall formed from volcanic rock, which was somewhat shielded by a growth of green weeds.

Panning the camera back a bit, I could easily tell that the pool of fresh water that Camille leisurely basked in was surrounded by equally stunning scenery. At the edge of a tiny cliff which overlooked the ocean, there were majestic trees and beautiful shrubbery all around. The sun peeked through those tall trees from above, providing enough illumination for me to eavesdrop on this special moment. The sound of running water was quite peaceful, and serene.

Of course, what made the scenery even more appealing to me was when I panned the camera back, I also got tempting glimpses of Lindsay, Trish and Amy. The three ladies, who had obviously come to this waterfall location with Camille during their nature hike, were wearing their bikinis. They stood in the small basin as well, but on the opposite side. It seemed as if they were allowing Camille a few moments to enjoy the waterfall on her own.

I again drooled at the sight of young, tender Lindsay in a tiny bikini. Among all of the gorgeous sights thus far, Lindsay in her pink bikini got my inner juices pumping faster than anything. She was so incredibly tantalizing...

"Have either of you learned anything about the money?" Lindsay asked Amy and Camille, as I flipped the hidden microphone on. "I really want that half-million."

"I don't think any of us will learn a thing about the money until Jeremy gives it to us at the end of the summer," Camille responded, taking a step out from underneath the oncoming rush of water. "He seems real secretive about it."

Hmmmmm ... it was the winter in this part of the world. Obviously, the idea of winter being at the end of May was a foreign concept to all of these ladies. I should just give up in trying to correct (or educate) them about that fact.

"To tell you the truth, I really don't care about the money anymore," Trish mused, which caused her three friends to glare at her in disbelief. "I'm serious. This island is just how I envision Heaven to be. It's so beautiful. What makes it even better is that you three and the other girls - Devon and Pamela - are here, too. I really cannot imagine a better place to be in the whole, wide world. We're all good friends already ... Jeremy is so wondrously kind and gracious. We have total privacy and can do whatever we please here for six weeks. There are no boundaries, no limitations at all." Trish paused and added, "Shouldn't we be paying Jeremy, eh?"

"What do you mean?" Amy countered.

"Shouldn't we be paying Jeremy to let us stay here?" the Canadian asked. "This is like a vacation for me. But it's a free vacation. A paid vacation! I'm not going to worry about the money any longer. If I get the $500,000, great. If not, that's fine too. I could use $100,000, especially in American currency. That will go a long way where I live. The American dollar converts to 88 cents in Canadian money. $100,000 will go a very long way for me."

"That's a good mindset to have," Camille decided. "You are right, Trish. Whatever happens, happens. I think I am just going to sit back and enjoy the island too, and not worry about the money. There's really no need to."

"Jeremy will never tell us how we go about getting the big pay-out anyway," Trish added. "Why worry about it if he won't tell us? I imagine it will go to the one he likes the most. Right now, I think that person is Pamela."

"I agree with that," Amy nodded. "He likes Pamela a lot."

"That is fine with me," Trish mused. "If he wants to give the half-million to Pamela, fine. After all, it is Jeremy's money. He can do with it what he pleases. I won't complain. I am just happy I am here, and able to enjoy the island."

"He can give the big money to ME," Lindsay sulked.

"I know who likes him more than anyone," Camille nodded. "Don't tell Pamela, for sure, but Devon is absolutely crazy about Jeremy. She wants him in the worst way possible." COME ON, Camille, I said inwardly. Don't tell Pamela? Clearly, this was an attempt to behind her room-mate's back.

"Devon?" Amy countered.

"She had sex with Jeremy last night," Camille offered. "Devon was all happy and giggly about it this morning."

"I need to have sex with Jeremy again," Amy announced, which made my heart flutter with desire. Dare I say it, but I needed to have sex with Amy again as well. Soon.

"I don't want to see Devon get hurt," Camille frowned. "I like her a lot, myself. But unfortunately, men seem to have the uncanny knack to be able to a hurt a woman at the worst possible time, in the worst possible way." Huh? "Devon has been telling me things like she is already in love with Jeremy and even wants to marry him RIGHT NOW."

Marry me right now?

I was not quite sure I felt the same way - in fact, I know I did not - but it was an interesting thought nonetheless. Devon was already entertaining thoughts of marriage with me? How was that even possible? It seemed crazy!

"Hopefully she hasn't said anything to him like that yet," Trish fretted. "Telling someone things like that at the beginning of a relationship is the easiest way to kill the relationship. I remember one guy ... after he asked me out for the first time, he said he was crazy about me and really wanted to get to know me better. He made it seem like he wanted to marry me. It was kind of a turn-off even though I liked him, because I didn't want to go out with him, maybe lead him on and then ultimately hurt his feelings in the end. I was younger then; I just wanted to go out and have fun. I definitely wasn't looking to settle down like I am now."

"There's no way that I'm settling down," Lindsay declared. "I'm only 18 years of age. I want to go out and explore, find what the world has to offer." I noticed a serious pout from Trish as Lindsay continued, "That's a big reason why I decided to come to the island. Well ... that, and the money. But the island seemed like some sort of paradise."

"It has definitely lived up to all its hype," Amy nodded. "Jeremy really spoke the island up in those brochures and booklets he sent us through the mail. It's even better than I imagined it to be. A tropical island, beautiful women and a very nice, sweet man for our host."

"Just think that we have six whole weeks to be here, and enjoy ourselves," Camille grinned. "I bet maybe one or two of us will never want to leave. I know I will leave, but I can see where one or two others may want to stay forever."

"What's the deal with Jeremy?" Lindsay asked. "I wonder why he has spent 16 years here, all by himself? Just to think ... I was only age two when he moved in here. I agree with what Trish said earlier. This island may be paradise, but there is no way I could live here all by myself."

"It does seem sort of strange," Camille observed. "But I'm not one to judge. I'm sure that Jeremy has a reason for opting to stay here alone for all that time."

"Maybe he's just a loner," Trish speculated. "A lot of people are like that. But he did say he enjoys our company. And he seems too friendly and outgoing to be a loner..."

"And he has too good of a cock not to have a woman around at all times."

"Amy!" Trish scolded her, albeit playfully. "Gosh!" All I can say about Amy's words is that I took them as a true compliment. Gruff? Overly blunt? Even ... crude? I had too good of a cock not to have a woman around? My modest side will take what she said as a compliment ... nothing more.

"Oh ... about you being age two when Jeremy began living here, Lindsay," Amy commented. "You're so small and frail and sweet and innocent that you don't look a day older than five now." Amy snickered merrily at her own playful barb. Lindsay, however - though she kept silent - did not seem to appreciate it all that much. Myself, it gave me a chuckle.

"Jeremy is mysterious," Camille observed. "I still don't quite get the idea as to why he brought the six of us here. He pays us all that money, but lets us do what we want. A friend of mine back home in California was convinced that I was getting myself into some sort of slave camp."

Trish giggled and mused, "I thought you were not one to judge others, Camille. But I don't understand him myself. I do think, though, that he is very trustworthy. If Jeremy says that we can do whatever we want, I believe him. I do not think we will wake up one day, all tied up or something. It just does not seem to be in his nature."

"I'm interested in meeting that friend of his," Camille added. "Kristanna or Christina ... whatever her name is. I bet she may have some answers for us."

"That's a good point," Trish nodded. "When we get the chance, let's ask her, and see what she says. Surely, she will understand our curiosity about him. Right?"

"You would think so," Lindsay offered.

"Unless she is his cohort in all of this, or something," Camille deadpanned.

"I need some satisfaction," Amy announced, before slowly but surely making her way over at the awaiting Camille in the basin. An instant later, Amy and Camille embraced one another and shared a very long, deep-rooted kiss.

While Trish simply stood by and watched, Camille turned her attention toward Lindsay, whose face was beet-red with embarrassment as she climbed out of the basin and took a seat in the grass. "Come over here and join us, honey," Camille encouraged her. "It'll be fun!"

"Lindsay is still a virgin," Trish told Camille, as well as Amy. "Right now, I think that she just wants to watch."

"You're a VIRGIN?" Camille gasped in disbelief, her eyes locked upon Lindsay. The teen-ager frowned and nodded her head in response. "I can't believe that you're a virgin!"

Camille was doing an excellent job of acting here simply because she already knew that Lindsay was a virgin. How did I know that? Yesterday, remember, I eavesdropped on the conversation that Camille had with Devon and Amy at the beach. Amy informed both of them that Lindsay was a virgin. Camille may have hinted during that same conversation that she already knew Lindsay was a virgin, but I was not certain.

"I would have never guessed that you were still a virgin," Amy told Lindsay, trying to hold back an outburst of laughs. Of course, Amy had been well aware of this fact as well.

"I just haven't found the right person to sexually give myself to yet," Lindsay brooded, before her gaze shifted to Trish. "I think that's about to change, though."

Trish smiled at those words as Camille implored, "Come on over here and join us, Lindsay. There is no need to have sex right away if you're a virgin." She slipped her arms around Amy's shoulders, then pressed her breasts on hers within the pool of fresh water and ground them as one.

"We can just make out," Camille said to Lindsay. "Come on, honey. I bet you would feel really good squished between me and Amy, as we both kissed you at the same time. In fact, I bet you would LOVE it. Just love it!"

"We would love having you," Amy murmured. "Our hands all over your body - touching you, caressing you, teasing you..."

"You'll never know unless you give it a shot," Camille egged her on. "C'mon ... what is there to lose? We would make you feel real good. Really good ... give it a shot."

"I don't know..." Lindsay fretted, her eyes cast downward as she sat upon the ledge. After several seconds, she looked up and surmised, "This is all so new to me. I don't mean any offense, Camille, but I don't know you all that well. I do not know you all that well either, Amy. The only person that I really know here thus far is Trish."

"Amy doesn't know me well, either," Camille countered. "But look at this." She pressed her lips to Amy's mouth and kissed her intently - her soft, velvety tongue sliding far and deep - before turning her focus back to Lindsay. "She sure does seem to enjoy kissing me, though." Now, Lindsay looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Let her go, Camille," Trish said. "It is not your place or my place to force her. When Lindsay is ready to share herself, she will make that decision on her own." Trish climbed out of the pool of natural water and focused all of her attention toward her room-mate. "Do you wanna go back to the mansion, sweetie?" Lindsay nodded her head in a sheepish manner in response to Trish's question. "Okay ... let's go."

Trish rose to her feet and grasped Lindsay by the hand, but meanwhile, Amy and Camille did not seem all too pleased. "You two are going to leave us here?"

"You're very welcome to come back to the mansion with us," Trish told Camille. "Both of you are."

"There is no reason for any of us to be shy or hold a thing back this summer," Amy implored. "No reason at all. Why don't you tell Lindsay to open herself up to us right now? It is going to happen eventually anyway, you know."

"If you're so dying to have sex," Trish admonished them, "then I suggest you have your sex with each other. Lindsay should not be subjected to this - having sex or watching others do it themselves - if it makes her feel the least bit uncomfortable. I will not allow that to happen."

"Maybe the two of us rather have sex with Lindsay," the mocha-skinned Camille cackled. "Did you ever think of that? Maybe YOU should sit back, Trish, and watch ME as I lick Lindsay's pussy! The girl needs a good, hard fucking! It would help loosen her up!"

"A really HARD fucking," Amy nodded.

As Lindsay gasped in response to those words, Trish gave Amy and Camille the evil eye and snapped, "That was uncalled for!" For a moment, it appeared as if Trish wanted to rip into Amy and Camille and tear them limb from limb for making such nasty, aggressive statements. I could not blame her if Trish chose to go that route. However, she was somehow able to harness and control her anger, and eventually settle down.

Trish turned her focus toward Lindsay and said in a gentle tone, "C'mon, honey. Let's go back to the mansion. We can play some video games in the recreation room before dinner." Trish hooked her arm around Lindsay's and added, "We can pick up where we left off earlier with Final Fantasy XIII. You did save our progress in the game, right?"

"Yes," Lindsay pouted, glancing at Amy and Camille in a disapproving manner. She then made eye contact with Trish and conveyed, "That game absolutely rocks."

"You cannot keep a padlock on your little pussy all summer long," Camille warned Lindsay. "We WILL get to it..."

Trish paid the other two ladies no attention whatsoever as she turned and whisked Lindsay away from the scenic waterfall location. Amy and Camille looked at each other, then shook their heads in unison. Obviously, they were disappointed. But, I cannot say that I felt one bit sorry for them.

Trish was starting to grow on me even more as a person. I really enjoyed (and appreciated) how Trish was trying to protect and shield the innocent and naive Lindsay from some of the more aggressive women on the island - notably Amy and Camille. I still felt that there was some good underneath of Amy's rigid exterior. It just had to find its way out.

I was glad, however, that Lindsay was still a virgin. The time she could no longer be classified as one was quickly approaching, however. That was fairly obvious. I still held out a faint hope that Lindsay would allow me be the one to take her virginity. I say faint because it appeared that Trish had the definite inside track.

On the other hand, I really could not complain about it. If Trish turned out to be the one who ultimately took Lindsay's virginity, that would be wonderful. The most clear-cut thing of all on the island - at least early on - was that Trish was totally and madly in love with Lindsay. Because of that, Trish deserved the honor more than anyone else. She certainly would not view Lindsay's virginity as a notch on her bedpost - like some of the others here would. Honestly, who else could it rightfully be?

"No fun," Camille frowned, her gaze focused on Amy, once Lindsay and Trish disappeared from their view.

"I'd love to fuck Lindsay with a strap-on," Amy smirked, which caused my hormones to rage even more out of control. Amy was something else! She was wicked! "I'd bend her over the bed and fuck her senseless. I would use my belt and give her a good whipping, too. All that crying and whining from Lindsay would only get her an even harder whipping from me, and a bigger butt-plug in her ass."

Camille laughed. "And make Trish watch? That would be awesome. I would love to pop Lindsay's cherry and force Trish to watch me do it. Maybe tie Trish up and force her to watch me violate her girl. Make Lindsay cum over and over again, and then make her beg me to fuck her more as Trish was powerless to stop it." Camille purred like a kitten at the mere thought and reiterated, "That would be awesome..."

"Pop Lindsay's cherry?" Amy countered. "I don't want to pop it. I want to OBLITERATE it." Both ladies giggled at those words as they continued to embrace one another at the beautiful waterfall location. "I'd make Lindsay my slave. Trish would be my bitch, forced to watch ... OUR bitch. I would love to make Lindsay cry. Oh, I'd hurt her so much..."

Camille smiled. "We would fuck her until she loved us."

With that, I flipped the audio switch off because I could no longer listen to this discussion. I did not like the way that Amy and Camille were talking about Lindsay. Trish too, for that matter. I did not even care if Amy and Camille wound up having sex in the water with each other. At this moment in time, at least, I was not interested in watching. Suddenly, all of the sexual tension had been ripped from me.

Again, I had the sense that Amy was a good person. I may be the only one here on the island who felt that way, but I honestly believed that she enjoyed saying these wild and outlandish things simply to get reactions out of others. Amy loved shocking people. It was a bad trait, indeed, but I could overlook it if my assumption about her was accurate (that a truly good person was lurking somewhere underneath all those many waves of sexual aggression).

Camille? I did not know what to think of Camille right now. She had just taken a serious nose-dive in my book. I did not feel the same way about her as I did Amy. Nor did I feel any sort of mental attraction toward Camille. She was very beautiful, yes, but that beauty seemed to be skin-deep. It was early in the process, though, and things could easily change. Camille could ultimately turn out to be my favorite. That sounds awfully strange to me, but only time would tell. I had to keep an open mind when it came to all of the ladies.

-------

Suddenly, another monitor flickered to life. Because the system was triggered with the use of motion detectors, the screen overseeing the long corridor that led to my personal suite had popped on. I turned my total attention toward it, naturally, and felt overly curious once I noticed that it was Pamela. For some reason, the enchanting young woman was dressed in a large, overflowing trench coat. It looked drab on her, to say the least. Why was Pamela wearing that brown coat anyway? The weather outside was warm, and beautiful...

I exited the voyeur room and sealed its wall entrance. I took a moment to look in the nearby mirror and run a brush through my hair, then rushed over to the door and opened it.

"Hi Pamela," I greeted her, smiling. She certainly did look odd with that trench coat on. "What can I do for you?"

"You were talking about me being a stripper yesterday in the library," the 30-year-old cooed as she stepped into the suite and then closed the door behind her. "You were making fun of me, too, Jeremy." Pamela grinned at her own words and wryly added, "I thought you would be interested if I was to ... oh, hmmmmm ... give you a ... lap dance."

I was about to say something, but then the coat came off.

I literally drooled at the sight of Pamela, who now looked as hot and as sinfully sexy as any one person possibly could. I could not believe my eyes as Pamela wore a black leather vest, which was zipped up to only her midriff. Thus, the black bra that barely concealed her large, heavenly breasts underneath was on display. It was decorated with lacey, flower-print designs and offered a clear view of her juicy, plump nipples through its sheer fabric.

In addition, Pamela wore a leather mini-skirt which was so small and low-cut, she might as well not had it on. Fishnet stockings adorned her legs, and the pair of knee-high boots looked extremely tantalizing on her. The little mini-skirt, stockings and boots were black, just like her bra and vest.

With her silky-smooth blonde hair braided up in a stylish, classy manner, Pamela appeared as if she had just stepped out of one of my ultimate fantasies. My heart was pounding within my chest as I stared and gawked at the luscious woman standing before me. Despite Devon's recent push for my attention, maybe Pamela truly was the woman for me?...

"You're going to dance for me?" I breathed, swallowing hard. My whole body was alive with heated, intense arousal. Was there any other place on the planet that I rather be at this precise, exact moment in time than right here in this room with Pamela? This promised to be quite interesting...

"Yes, I am," the seductress replied, the excitement level in her sultry voice readily apparent. "Now, be a good boy and take a seat on the edge of the bed for me."

"Oh God..." I growled, quickly complying with her request.

"Remember the number one rule of lap dancing, Jeremy," Pamela chided me, stepping back. "No touching. Got that?"

"No touching?" I exclaimed, somewhat exasperated.

"I don't want to have to punish you for breaking the rules," she warned, a naughty grin on her charming face. "Nor do I want to call a bouncer to come and rough you up, though I'm quite certain that I could handle you myself."

"Huh?"

The top-heavy blonde took another step back and offered me a very beguiling smile. An instant later, she cupped and squeezed her fabulous breasts with both hands, their flesh rolling underneath her touch. Pamela's face came alive as she purred, "Do you WANT me to dance for you, Jeremy?"

Unable to speak, I eagerly nodded my head at her.

"Do I turn you on?" Pamela asked, her remarkable body starting to buck and churn about in a sensuous manner. I quickly sensed this was her standard routine for dancing. Pamela turned her back and gyrated her shapely ass for me, which was barely concealed by that mini-skirt, before spinning back around. Her body kept grinding as she teased, "I only want to dance for you if it turns you on, Jeremy."

"You're turning me on, big-time," I managed to get out, my eyes wide as I openly gawked at her. "Trust me."

Pamela pulled her skirt upward for a brief second - long enough to flash me a view of her black G-string - before shoving it back down into place. "Are you getting hard yet?" she wondered, her tone soft and silky. "I just can't tell you how much I like nice, hard cocks, Jeremy."

Instead of waiting for me to answer, Pamela simply reached out with her right hand and rubbed the humongous bulge that was stationed within my shorts. "Oooooh," she cooed, her hips swaying back-and-forth in a rhythmic motion. "You are hard, lover. REAL hard. I like that. I like that a LOT."

With my own hands, I made a move to grasp and latch onto both of her breasts, but Pamela backed away and shook her head at me. "No touching!" she reminded me, being playful. I let out another exasperated moan, but decided to let the game continue. Soon, I would absolutely ravage this woman.

Pamela then placed both hands on her head and swayed her hips for me once again, her breasts jiggling and bouncing about within the confines of her lacey bra. She trailed both hands down to those big breasts and cupped them a second time, then massaged them. "I like showing off my body," she said, being coy. "Do you like my body, Jeremy?"

"Oh God ... you know I do, Pamela. You're so gorgeous." There was a bona-fide reason why I found Pamela to be so very irresistible. That fully-loaded figure of hers, which she now flaunted about with the flair of a seasoned, professional stripper, had something to do with it.

"Ohhhhh," Pamela grinned, now hooking her left leg over my right knee and straddling me somewhat there. Her body bounced about in that position for several seconds, but then she recoiled her leg and stood straight up once more.

"You like my nice, big breasts?" Pamela asked, in total teasing mode, as she continued to mash and maul them with her hands. I nodded as she added, "Would you like to see my breasts, Jeremy? Do you think you would like that?"

"Oh yes," I replied quickly, my cock about to burst within my shorts. I could not believe how sinful and erotic this woman was as she bumped and weaved her body about before me. I could easily tell that Pamela had done a lot of stripping and dancing over the course of the past several years.

Pamela undid the zipper on her vest-like top, and easily shrugged it from her shoulders. The garment fell harmlessly to the floor, and then she unsnapped her lacey black bra in front. The siren pulled its cups outward, baring her big, glorious breasts for my eyes to luxuriate in. Pamela tossed the bra elsewhere, then moaned as she openly massaged and fondled her naked breasts with both hands.

Pamela brought a finger to her mouth and wet it, then turned her back to me and giggled. "Like my ass?" she asked, her hips suddenly undulating in a wicked manner. She bent over slightly and leaned up hard against my pelvis, then started to bounce upon it. "Want me to rub my ass all over your cock like this? Does that feel good, Jeremy?" She continued bumping her hips upon my pelvis, saying, "You like my ass all over your cock?" She slapped that curvaceous backside and cooed, "Is my ass tight enough for you, Jeremy?"

"Oh God..." I trembled. This was much better than any lap dance that I ever once fantasized about receiving...

Pamela kept up the churning and grinding motion for a few seconds before finally withdrawing that luscious ass of hers from my pelvis. She turned back around and trailed both hands down the front of her body, her hips bucking wildly, with a smile on her face, before undoing the zipper on the side of her mini-skirt and quickly whisking it away.

I took in a deep breath and shook my head in a mixture of lust and appreciation as Pamela continued to dance in front of me, the only articles of clothing remaining on her being a black G-string, fishnet stockings and knee-high boots.

"You like it when I tease you like this?" Pamela wondered, still dancing. "You like me doing this, Jeremy?" She paused and moaned, "Hmmmmm ... I know I just love it."

Pamela then dropped to her knees between my widespread legs, and smiled at the tremendous bulge that was within my shorts. Her eyes locked on mine, Pamela extended her tongue and swiped away at the lump. Her white teeth then clamped down on a portion of my shorts' fabric, and she pulled her head back. She then nuzzled her nose on my aching erection and giggled, her eyes never once leaving my face.

The young woman soon rose up to her feet and resumed her erotic dancing routine. "Want me to take my G-string off for you?" she asked, unsnapping a button on the garments' side which held it together. She held the loose G-string in front of her pussy for several seconds - teasing me - before pulling it away and fully exposing herself to me.

"Do you like my pussy?" Pangs of unspeakable lust were coursing throughout my entire body as Pamela then straddled my hips. "Like my naked body all over your body?" she wondered, starting to bounce up-and-down upon my shaft - as if we were having sex. I needed to get rid of my shorts!

"HMMMMM ... I LOVE feeling your cock between my legs like this," she moaned, her face flushed with desire. "Your cock is all big, and hard. Hmmmmm ... feels so good!"

My body overcome with lust, I grabbed Pamela's breasts with both hands and squeezed them roughly. She then jumped off my lap and scurried backwards, shaking a menacing finger at me. I sighed as she playfully scolded me, "No touching, Jeremy! You do that again, and I'll have to tie you up."

My eyes went wide in response to those words as Pamela dropped to her knees between my widespread legs once again. She placed both hands on the side of my hips and looked up at me with a playful expression, then began to grind her luscious breasts upon my pelvis in a wanton, lewd manner.

Acting coy and innocent, Pamela continued to gaze up at me as she snickered, "You look so uncomfortable, Jeremy. Oh ... poor thing. Let's see if I can make you feel better." I took in another deep breath as she undid my shorts and reached within my briefs, then pulled my fully erect cock out and let it wobble before her eyes in the open air. "Is that better?" she inquired, still acting innocent. "I think he needed a breath of fresh air, Jeremy." She giggled once more, gently stroking and then kissing the tip of my cock.

Pamela stood up and placed both hands onto my head, then brought my face into contact with her breasts. She rubbed my face across those glorious breasts of hers for several seconds, her hips still undulating, before dropping back down to her knees between my legs. She pulled my shorts and briefs downward, fully exposing my shaft.

Pamela tilted her head all the way forward, until its crown was pointing downward. She then rubbed the back of her head upon my erection, which nearly caused me to explode. I loved the feel of her silky-smooth blonde hair on my skin...

"Why don't you suck it?" I asked her, referring to my cock, my tone of voice uncharacteristically flat and uneven.

Pamela took a step back upon her knees and flashed me a look. "Suck it? What type of dancer do you think I am, Jeremy?" She huffed playfully and added, "Not me..."

Finally, Pamela had pushed me too far.

The stripper grunted and squealed with obvious arousal as I clutched both of her shoulders with my hands and literally tossed her onto the bed. Pamela gave me an expectant look as she gazed up at me, her firm thighs already spread wide and parted. I licked my lips at the mere sight of her little pussy, which glistened with its shiny, erotic moisture.

I hesitated for a second or two, but then dove face-first right between those luscious thighs. Pamela's body tensed with arousal as I grasped her hips with my hands, my tongue already flicking itself over and across her swollen slit. The voluptuous vixen moaned out her approval, her hands clutching my head, her fingers weaving themselves throughout my short brown hair. The feel of her fingernails on my scalp sent absolute shockwaves of pleasure through my body.

Not only did Pamela have a beautiful pussy, but she had a very delicious one as well. I lapped away at her moist, tender folds, my tongue darting about wildly, my nose sniffing and luxuriating in the scent of her womanhood. That was yet another thing - her pussy smelled wonderful. Everything about Pamela, in fact, was wonderful...

I inserted a pair of fingers into that sweet pussy and immediately began to thrust them in-and-out at a rather torrid pace. Pamela clutched her thighs tightly around my head, as well as my hand, as I continually forged those fingers into her. She arched her neck and back high off the mattress, a series of moans and growls emanating from deep within her throat. Obviously, Pamela enjoyed this. Likewise, I was happy to be the one giving her this pleasure.

"Oh yeah..." she sighed, her thighs now loosening the dual grip on my head and hand. "Oh yeah, Jeremy ... that's good. That's real good! Hmmmmm ... lick my pussy! Lick it! Hmmmmm ... come on, lick it. OH YEAH ... there. Right there! OH GOD ... don't stop! Don't stop! Don't ever stop!"

I concentrated on her little nub of a clitoris, gently trapping it within my mouth and flicking my tongue across it in rapid-fire succession. Pamela let out a thunderous squeal in response, then pressed her palms on the crown of my head and applied a generous amount of pressure. She arched her neck and back once again as well, her moans and cries of arousal quickly becoming more loud and heated.

I released her clitoris from my mouth, only to then offer it a series of slow, leisurely swipes with my tongue. I got the sense that Pamela was extremely close to an orgasm, which was a bit of a surprise to me. I could get off a beautiful woman like this with my tongue alone, and no foreplay?

Then the thought hit me that the wicked lap dance which Pamela had earlier given to me must have excited her as well. It was a combination of both the strip-tease and my oral worship which would ultimately lead toward her orgasm.

Whatever the case, I bore down with my lips and tongue, and was intent on bringing this hot, ravenous creature to an earth-shattering climax. Once I inserted a third finger into her glistening folds and pounded away at them, I had succeeded. Pamela roared out at the very top of her lungs, her exquisite pussy literally erupting in a sea of passion.

"HMMMMM ... GOD!" she screamed out, her head raised as she glared at me. "GOD YES!" My tongue had already shifted into erotic overdrive, and was busy lapping up the delicious fruits of my labor. Juices seemed to continually ooze from Pamela's pussy; and I was quick to gather it with my tongue and swallow it down my throat. Delicious!

"Hmmmmm ... yes," Pamela moaned in the aftermath, once she had settled her body back down on the bed. "Oh yesssss ... Oh Jeremy, you made me cream my pussy." She smiled and coyly added, "I'm going to have to pay you back for that. GOD, lover. You made me feel SO GOOD."

"I thought you said I wasn't allowed to touch you," I grinned, finally raising my head from between the silken joining of her thighs. "Did you change your mind?"

Pamela moaned and replied, "If you want to lick my pussy like that, Jeremy, you can do whatever you want!"

For a moment, I extended my tongue and dabbed away at Pamela's belly button. Then, I trailed my lips and tongue up Pamela's torso - over her midriff and through her vast cleavage - and finally planted a deep kiss on her mouth.

"I heard you had an eventful time with Devon last night."

"Oh?" I gulped, unaware of where Pamela may be headed with that question. Again, I had no idea just how she was going to react. Was Pamela angry at me for that spending intimate time with Devon last evening after the words she and I shared earlier that same day? Perhaps this was my judgment day?

"Yeah ... that's what I heard," she mused. "You have sex with me in the afternoon, and then you're fooling around with Devon later that night. Of course, the night before, Monday, you and Amy had your little ... tryst. I heard ALL about it."

"I'm not sure what you're saying or implying with this?"

Pamela waved a finger in front of my face and grinned. "I want you to have your fun with these girls, Jeremy. I know that this island is - at least on the surface - a sex resort. But you told me your REAL reason for bringing me and all of the other girls to the island with you. You want love, and to get married. It's not a sex resort at all. This is like one of those reality dating shows on television, but with a very erotic twist."

"I trust you haven't told anyone..."

"Of course not," Pamela responded, shaking her head. "As I was saying, though, I want you to have your fun. I do."

"What do you mean?"

Pamela took a deep breath before answering, "No matter how many times you have sex with Devon or Amy, or even Trish, or Lindsay, or Camille ... or anyone else - Kristanna, perhaps, I just want ... I just want you to remember one thing."

"What's that?"

"No one could ever possibly love you, or care for you, more than me," Pamela said, those words sending vibrating down to my inner core. "I guarantee you that. No one would ever treat you any better. I am not just saying that, either. I mean it. I really do. And no one - and I mean NO ONE - would make you any happier than me. No one."

For the time being, I was totally speechless. No one had ever spoke such powerful words to me, or about me, before. I was completely unprepared for it, too. Pamela had totally broadsided me, but in the best way imaginable. The feelings that she had for me were already this deep and intense?

"I want to be with you," the 30-year-old added, promptly tossing her arms around my shoulders and offering a fierce, loyal hug. "I want you in my life, Jeremy. I want us to be together. We BELONG together. You know it, and I know it. Go and have your fun with the other girls. It's okay."

"Pamela..." I sighed, touched by her sincerity.

"I really understand the way you feel now, Jeremy. It is natural. You have a whole group of beautiful women here with you. All of them like you, want to get to know you better. You want to get to know them. You think, maybe, that you jumped the gun a little by telling me that I am your dream girl on just my second day here. Considering the circumstances, and the theme of this place, it's okay. If I were you, I'd want to look around a little bit too, before deciding which girl is best suited for me."

Was this woman reading my exact thoughts, or something?

Pamela grinned at me. "It is my job to show you - to PROVE to you, Jeremy - that I really AM your dream girl. Eventually, you will not even THINK about another woman. I am all the woman you will ever need." She smiled once again, then kissed me. "Just wait. You'll see."

When I did not respond, Pamela giggled. "You better be glad that I am not the jealous type, though. Carrying on with all these girls like you have. It's really, truly okay. I know that you'll ultimately choose me in the end."

"You've spent an awful lot of time with Amy," I told her.

"I know I have," Pamela nodded. "Your sex resort idea is a fantasy for me, too. I have been able to let loose and be totally carefree with Amy. She is the quite the interesting girl, with many layers and facets to her personality. I've enjoyed my time with her thus far. But I would trade all of it for a one-on-one commitment from you." Wow...

Pamela smiled and added, "When you are ready to make that commitment, Jeremy, I'll be waiting for you." Pamela kissed me flush on the lips and concluded, "You're worth the wait."



-------

Chapter 5: Cherry


Once I stepped out of the elevator and made my way into the below-ground recreation room on this bright and colorful Thursday afternoon, I was momentarily stunned by the sight of Lindsay. The image of tender, sweet innocence, Lindsay was wearing a fluorescent orange halter-top which hugged and clutched her nubile young form in an exotic manner. Her taut, C-cup breasts were jutting outward upon the stretchy fabric. The 18-year-old also wore a pair of denim shorts, along with white socks and matching sneakers. Those legs were so very sleek, so toned ... so perfect. Her exquisite, long-flowing blonde hair looked fabulous tied into a girlish pony-tail, with her slender, delicate neck also on display.

After swimming several laps in the pool and then taking a shower, I decided to come down here to the recreation room to play another hour of _Final Fantasy X-2_ - the incredibly long and difficult video game for the _PlayStation 3_ console. As it was, I had 46 hours of _FF X-2_ game-play logged on the hard drive for the system. The game was a bit dated, having been released in 2003 for the _PlayStation 2_ console, but I had only caught onto it recently. It had quickly turned into my favorite video game of all-time, and I was determined to beat it. But all thoughts of playing games, needless to say, vanished once I saw Lindsay in the recreation room.

The precious angel was splayed out across a leather floor comforter, her sneaker-clad feet upon the carpet and knees raised, with a pair of large earphones around her head. Although she had the volume of the _Krell Home Theater Standard_ 7.1 preamp/processor turned high - I could hear loud, blaring music from the earphones all the way across the room - I could not make out exactly what artist and/or song Lindsay was listening to. I figured that it was one of those _boy bands_ which everyone (except for teen-age girls like Lindsay) seemed to despise. Or maybe Lindsay was into country music? Perhaps modern rock? Even rap? Hmmmmm...

Whatever the case, Lindsay offered me a glittering smile and quickly turned the stereo off once she realized that I was in the recreation room with her. She removed the pair of earphones from her head and greeted, "Hi there, sir."

"Sir?" was my immediate, stunned reaction. "SIR?"

"The Bible says submit to the authorities placed above you," Lindsay, who was quite the religious type, informed me. "You are the authority of this island. Me calling you _SIR_ is a way of treating you with the proper respect." She punctuated her statement with a shy, timid smile.

I chuckled inwardly. "I may be a lot of things, Lindsay, but I am DEFINITELY not a sir. Please ... call me Jeremy. I am not an authority figure here, either. I'm just the host. Again, please ... call me Jeremy. Please."

"If that is what you want, then so be it," she relented. "I will start over again. Hi there, Jeremy."

I nodded my head at her. "Afternoon there, Miss Lindsay. May I ask what you were listening to with the earphones?"

"Saving Jane," Lindsay responded, to which my mind drew an absolute blank. "You probably have no idea who they are, Jeremy. It is a band originally from Ohio. Gotta support the local music, you know. I knew of the group well before it went big-time national six years ago." Lindsay paused, then asked, "What type of music do you listen to?"

I shrugged my shoulders and answered, "To be honest, I like a little of everything. Variety. I think if I had to pick a favorite, it would be Richard Marx. I grew up in the late 1980's and early 1990's listening to his songs. He had two brand-new albums come out simultaneously near the end of 2008, I believe. I bought them as soon as I could. Also had a little Christmas album come out late last year."

"Richard Marx?" Lindsay asked, her blue eyes narrow. "I have never even heard of Richard Marx..."

I stifled a laugh and then shook my head. A good sign that you are getting older in life is when someone who is younger says that he or she has never heard of your favorite musical group or artist. Unfortunately, I was climbing that ladder fast. At times, it was difficult for me to accept.

"You're 38, right?" Lindsay said.

"Yes ma'am," I responded. "Some other types of music that I like are Van Halen, Poison, Def Leppard, Bryan Adams. I also like Rod Stewart and the current pop starlets such as Britney, Christina and Jessica. As I said ... variety. I was listening to some Guns n' Roses earlier today. I have even been known to have an Eminem CD in my player on occasion."

"Eminem? _YOU_ listen to Eminem, Jeremy? Wow."

I nodded my head. "He has an awful lot of talent."

"I've heard of a few of those older groups you mentioned," Lindsay told me, grinning. "Some guy I know likes to blast Guns n' Roses in his car." She was such a doll. A darling, fresh-faced 18-year-old just six days removed from her high school graduation, Lindsay was one of my naughtiest fantasies come to life. What sane man hasn't dreamed of corrupting the sweet and wholesome virgin in one way or another, and sending her along her rightful path in life? That being, of course, the path of sexual satisfaction and wanton fulfillment.

On the other hand, though, my more sensitive and caring side had its concerns. When I originally accepted Lindsay's application to come to the island, I did not know that she was still a virgin. Would I have brought Lindsay to the island if I knew that little fact about her beforehand? No.

My lone objective with all of these ladies, of course, was to hopefully find my soul-mate in life and then marry her. Would an 18-year-old virgin be looking for that type of commitment? I had already overheard Lindsay say to Trish, Amy and Camille (with the help of the voyeur room) that she was, in no way, looking to settle down. Perhaps I should have chosen someone a little older to fill the final spot? After all, there was a reason why the other five ladies - Devon, Pamela, Trish, Amy and Camille - ranged in age from 25 to 30. Amy, in fact, would be turning 31 in less than three weeks. They were (typically speaking) at the point in their lives when single women are starting to settle down and get married. That was my sole intent, remember.

Make no mistake about it, though - I was not complaining, or thinking that I had made an error in bringing Lindsay to the island. With her youth and inexperience, she brought a very different, fresh element to the mix. Maybe I should have selected someone older and more experienced, but...

Who knows? Maybe Lindsay would change her mind about making a commitment at her age. Maybe I would fall in love with her? Maybe she would fall in love with me? Maybe the two of us would get married and spend the rest of our lives, and all of eternity, incredibly happy together? Or perhaps Lindsay and I would not _click_ at all in a romantic sense? That was what these six weeks were about for me - evaluation. Although Devon and Pamela were at the head of the proverbial class right now, I really owed it to myself to evaluate _all_ of the women before making my true decision on which of them appealed to me the most. I owed it to them, as well.

"What is a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" I asked Lindsay. "I already know that you are a virgin. You told me and Trish that during your first night here. Why did you agree to come to the island? Because of the money? It seems that you are a little ... out of your element ... here."

Lindsay frowned and nodded her head in response. "Yes ... because of the money. My family really needs the money."

"Oh?" I inquired, closing the distance between us and taking a seat across from her on the floor. "Why is that?"

"We need all the money we can get," Lindsay fretted in a hurt tone, momentarily tearing her gaze away from me.

I tilted my head and inspected the look on her face. Unfortunately, it appeared as if this little bundle of cheer and sweetness was about to cry. "What's wrong?"

"It's my father," Lindsay answered, her mouth twitching. "He ... he p-passed away ... N-N-No-November 4th, last year."

"Oh my..." I grieved, totally unaware of that. There was no mention of that on any of the paperwork she had filled out prior to her arrival. Nor did she ever bring it up during any of our discussions. The horrid news kind of blindsided me. "I'm so sorry, honey. What ... what happened?"

Lindsay sniffed her nose and sighed, "I came home from school one day with my sister, Alison. I was 17 then, and she was 16. We saw Dad l-laying on the s-s-sofa." Lindsay shook her head and added, "I thought he was sleeping, but then Alison noticed that his eyes were wide open. He had this totally blank, empty ... emotionless stare."

"Oh God..."

"We thought he may have been playing with us at first," Lindsay continued, fighting back her tears. "But then we realized that he wasn't breathing. There was no pulse." She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I got on the phone and called 9-1-1. They sent the paramedics, but they said there was nothing they could do. He was dead." Lindsay dipped her head low and began to cry. "They ... they said they would call the police and coroner, and then they left. They ... they left me and Alison all alone ... with our dead father on the sofa. Imagine what that was like for us! I thought ... I thought that was incredibly cruel of them."

I frowned and shook my head at the mere thought. "Must have been awful for you and your sister. Just awful..."

"He was only 46!" Lindsay exclaimed. "I nev-never once thought I would lose my father so ... so very young!"

As I sat across from her upon the floor, Lindsay covered her eyes and sobbed like this was a funeral. Although seven months had elapsed since her father passed away, Lindsay was still experiencing a tremendous amount of grief and pain. I have not lost either of my parents yet (thank God), so I did my best to put myself in her situation and feel the anguish. It was quite a grim thought for me, indeed.

"What happened to him?" I asked. "If I may... ?"

"Massive coronary," Lindsay interjected, now looking at me through her tear-stained eyes. She grabbed a nearby box of tissues and put several of them to good use. "That is the one thing I never understood. Daddy was in great health. He was always exercising, always going out, always active. I went on a 16 mile bike ride with him a week earlier. I can't believe that his heart gave out on him. _46_! HE WAS 46!" Lindsay began to cry harder as she added, "He w-w-won't be th-there to walk me down the aisle when I get m-m-married! He won't be there when I give b-birth to my first ch-child! He won't be there to be a grandpa for my kids!..."

I felt the urge to take Lindsay into my arms and comfort her, but did not have the courage to do so. I certainly did not want Lindsay to think that I was making a _move_ on her in what was obviously a very weakened state. Furthermore, did I _know_ Lindsay well enough to offer her a hug? I had no problem with the idea, of course, but she might. Still, I had to fight it. This girl needed a hug in the worst way possible. But somehow, I managed to keep my distance from her.

And, I am not above admitting that Lindsay was about to make _me_ cry. "He will be there in spirit, sweetheart."

Lindsay took several seconds to compose herself before speaking in a steady voice, "After Dad passed away, money became really tight. He did not have any life insurance and it left me, my mom and Alison in a really bad way. He did not have a lot of money saved up, either, unfortunately. I have two older sisters, too - Gina and Jennifer. Gina was living in Colorado, but she moved back to Ohio with us and helped out with the expenses. Food, clothes, mortgage and car payments ... me, my mom and my sisters, we all became a team. But none of us make a whole lot of money. I work at a supermarket and the best that I can do is $8.15 an hour."

"What do you do in the supermarket? Are you a cashier?"

"I work in cosmetics," she told me. Ahh, that made a lot of sense, I said inwardly. Lindsay was absolutely perfect for that job. She was the beautiful teen-age girl standing behind the cosmetics counter at your typical supermarket, smiling and being cheerful for every customer who came along. In addition, she was the female employee who was secretly lusted after and admired the most by her male co-workers.

"So the reason you came to the island was because of the money prospects?"

"I admit - it was the only reason," Lindsay sulked. "My family knew what I was getting myself into. They knew what was going to happen to me here. I was very straightforward and honest about it. My mom did not like me going to a sex resort, per se, but the allure of the money was too much. I cannot tell you how much $500,000 would help our family. Even if I get just $100,000, I would be so incredibly happy. I am going to give whatever I get to my mom. I hope ... it will help us get back on our feet, for sure."

More at ease, and in much better control of her emotions, Lindsay quickly added, "But now, I love the island. I came here for the money, yes. But everything that has happened to me thus far ... I cannot think of a better place to be. I miss my family and would rather be with them, I guess. But if I have to be away from them, I want to be on this island. I want to be here more than you would ever know. You have created a true dream atmosphere, Jeremy. This place is like a whole different world to me. Everyone is so nice." She giggled and added, "Even Amy is starting to grow on me..."

"Do your religious convictions make you want to save your virginity until your wedding night?" I asked, already knowing the answer. After all, Trish had asked Lindsay a very similar question during their first night together on the island. I, of course, eavesdropped on that discussion.

"Yes, they do," she admitted. "But I think that I am giving my virginity up here - whenever that happens - for a good cause. I know it will happen here. I have accepted that as fact. I am doing this to help my family. If I am to be condemned for helping my family, then so be it."

"You don't have to have sex here, you know," I reminded her. "You are not being forced into anything, Lindsay. I know that I am promoting a very open way of life here, but you do not have to have sex if you do not want to. You could just hang out here for six weeks and bask in the sun. If you want to wait until your wedding night, then by all means ... wait. The choice is up to you - and you alone. Do not feel obligated to surrender your virginity to anyone. It is certainly not a requirement of you being here. I want you to know that. I want you to understand it, too. You will receive your money regardless of the choice you make."

Lindsay smiled. "You make me feel so much at ease about everything, Jeremy. Not just this, but everything since I arrived here. All of the other girls would say the same, exact thing. You have made all of us feel at ease."

"That is my intention."

Lindsay sighed before admitting, "My religious side wants me to save myself for my wedding night, whenever that day comes. But I am a human being with desires. With or without this island, I seriously doubt that I would last until my wedding night." My eyes widened in pure surprise she added, "Alison, my younger sister, is still 16. Alison tells me ALL THE TIME that if God wanted everyone to wait until they were married to have sex, we as people would not be filled with lust and desires. I do not know if I agree with Alison, but that is the general attitude that I am trying to adopt here."

"I have been curious about so many things for such a long time," Lindsay continued. "It is just what Trish told me the other night - she has never been married, but has had sex before. Trish said despite that, she will go to Heaven. I do not think that I will be scrutinized by God and go to Hell if I lose my virginity on this island. And do not worry ... I will not have sex just to have sex. I still look at giving my virginity to someone else as a sacred thing. It will be with the right person." Trish?, I asked inwardly. Trish and Lindsay had been close to inseparable the past few days. "As I said, Jeremy, even though it won't be my wedding night, it will still be for a good cause. In being here, I am helping my family out. If we do not come across some money soon, Mom said that she may have to file for bankruptcy. I know that both of her credit cards are totally maxed-out."

I frowned. "Your family is missing out on your paycheck from the supermarket right now. Are they going to be okay for the next six weeks without your weekly income? I guess it is not much, but every little bit certainly helps."

"Mom said she thinks they will make it," Lindsay pined. "They know that I will bring home $100,000, at least. That is the light at the end of the tunnel for us. Until now, the only thing at the end of the tunnel for us was ANOTHER tunnel." Lindsay shook her head. "It's been really rough."

I took a deep breath and came to an immediate, sudden decision. With the amount of financial resources that I have at my disposal, it was truly the only decision that I could make. "If your only intention with this money, sweetheart, is to give it to your family in order to help them out..." I paused, re-evaluating that decision for an instant or two. I then came to the conclusion that there was nothing for me to re-evaluate. My heart told me to make her this offer. "What would you say if I called my financial guru in Utah, and had him forward $100,000 to your mom? Today? That way, your family would not have to wait six weeks for the money. They could have it right away."

Lindsay's eyes went wide and nearly exploded from their sockets. "ARE YOU SERIOUS? YOU ... YOU'D DO THAT FOR ME?"

"I see no reason why I shouldn't," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "It's for a good cause - just as you said. Your mother could have the money in her bank account no more than five or ten minutes from now. I would need you to call her on the telephone and get her bank account number for me. Then I would call Harold, the financial guru from Utah, and instruct him to wire $100,000 to your mother's account."

"You ... you'd do that for us?" Lindsay was _shocked_.

I smiled at her. "Of course I would."

"OH MY STARS!"

Suddenly, Lindsay tossed her arms around me in a joyous embrace. Needless to say, the move stunned me. But now, I had a safe, legitimate reason to give her a hug of my own because she had instigated the physical contact between us. Thus, I wrapped my arms around that little body of Lindsay's and felt like never relinquishing her from my grasp.

"This does not, in any single way, disqualify you from getting the $500,000 grand prize," I told her. "You still could be the one, dear. We'll see in six weeks."

"THANK YOU, JEREMY!" Lindsay gushed. "THANK YOU!" She began to bounce and vibrate, her arms very tight and secure around my shoulders. "What could I ever do to re-pay you? My family is going to be _SO HAPPY_ with that money!"

When Lindsay pulled her arms away from me, I reluctantly did the same. Like anyone else would if in my position, I wanted to continue to relish the feel of her taut, little body against mine! God, this girl was so divine...

Lindsay made eye contact with me and squealed, "How in the WORLD can you afford to do this? Give all that money to my family? $100,000 to everyone else here, with the promise of $500,000 to one of us. This mansion, this big island of yours ... it all must cost you millions of dollars to buy!"

"Several of them," I informed her. "Many several."

"How can you afford this?" she reiterated. "I mean ... what exactly is it that you do, Jeremy? You have a job?"

"I have several business interests right now, but prefer to think of myself as semi-retired," were my words for her. "I don't have a quote-on-quote, job. Not anymore, at least."

"How did you make all this money?"

I did not want to offer specifics about the business side of my life to any of the ladies at such an early stage, but felt the need to open up to Lindsay. I think, in some way, she deserved to know (at least) a little about me. Besides, I was going to tell her and all of the others eventually, anyway. So why not start now?

"Back in the mid-1990's, I developed, what is now, one of the largest and most popular websites on the Internet. I also created a well-known web browser, called [Browser Name]. Many people use it all over the world. I sold the website, [Website Name].com, to a company in California for half a billion dollars." Lindsay appeared totally flabbergasted as I added, "After that, just a few months later, I sold the browser I created and developed for 300 million dollars. If you throw in all the money I made while still in control of the website and browser, and my income now from residuals and investments, the American stock market and my varying business interests, I'm roughly worth two billion dollars."

"Did y-y-you ... did you say ... two b-b-billion dollars?" Lindsay was completely astounded. "With a... _B_?" When I nodded my head at her, Lindsay sighed. "NO WONDER you can afford to live on an island like this, in this mansion! If I ... if I may ask ... how much did this mansion c-cost you?"

"The home itself, as well as everything in it, is valued at over 53 million dollars."

"WOW..." Lindsay moaned, still awestruck. "And I thought the $8.15 an hour that I make at the supermarket was good. At least for someone my age, that is. Wow..." She paused, lost in thought for a moment or two. "What do you do with your money, Jeremy? Could you ever spend all of it?"

"No, I could never spend all of it," I told her. "I take care of my family. My mom and dad - though separated and living thousands of miles apart - I've taken care of them. My two brothers and one sister, and their families. I have taken care of them, too. I like to help people. I fund a shelter over in Peru for homeless people."

Lindsay nodded. "So you invest one million dollars into the idea of bringing me and the other girls to your island? That is what you'll pay us in the end. One million, total. $100,000 for five, $500,000 for one. Not to mention, the price of the airline tickets to get here, too. All of our food and other miscellaneous expenses, too..."

I grinned. "It is turning out to be a wise investment. You six girls are better than I ever possibly imagined." All of them with the possible exception of Camille, that is. I did not like some of the things Camille had tried thus far. She had rubbed me the wrong way on a couple of occasions.

I smiled and hesitated before continuing, "Can I ask you something personal, Miss Lindsay? You do not have to answer if you do not want to. I would understand, and not mind."

"Sure," she giggled. "You can ask me anything."

I hesitated again. "How is it that someone who is as beautiful as you ... how can you still be a virgin at 18?" Lindsay seemed to fidget about somewhat at my question. "Aside from your religious views, you said that you are full of curiosity and desires. You said you were not going to last until your wedding night. Again, discounting your faith, is there any particular reason why a girl as sweet and as beautiful as you is still a virgin at 18?" Lindsay was really squirming and fidgeting about now. An incredibly humble type, no one (except perhaps her younger sister and, to a lesser extent, Trish) had spoken to Lindsay in this manner before. That was obvious. "I am sorry if that was too personal, dear. You don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I would understand. Me, I'm just nosey."

"No, it's okay." Lindsay took a deep breath. "Amy tells me every day that we're all friends here, and we should not hide anything from one another. Aside from wanting my first time having sex to be special, I just ... I never had much interest in boys my age. Up until now, I think, boys my age were my only opportunity at going out on a date. I just ... I think boys my age are so immature. I know that where I work - in the supermarket - a lot of the older men there called me _jailbait Lindsay_ until I turned 18 in December. I like a lot of those older guys, and they like me. But almost all of them are married, so they are off-limits. In fact, a lot of them STILL call me _jailbait_."

"What is the perfect age for a guy in your book?"

"38."

I smiled at the prospects. _I_ am 38. Of course, this little sweetheart already knew that.

"Actually, I like all older guys," she clarified. "I am attracted to one guy where I work, and he is in his 60's."

I laughed. "He would not be able to survive a night with you! So you did not enjoy dating boys in high school, huh?"

"I had one serious boyfriend," she admitted. "His name was Eddie. We dated for two years but I never had sex with him. He wanted me to, but I always found a way out of it. Eddie was nice and all - for a while, at least - but I could not see him as the guy I gave my virginity to. I did not love him at all. He was more a friend to me. We would go out, do things together. I guess we weren't serious."

"He was nice ... just for a while?"

Lindsay pouted. "One day, Eddie DEMANDED that I have sex with him, or our relationship was over. I was not about to let anyone talk to me that way, and make demands. I waved my hand at him and told him _bye-bye_. The pig..."

"Good for you! You have to stand up for yourself."

Lindsay glanced around the spacious recreation room for several seconds, but eventually focused on the collection of video game consoles that were lined up on the floor. She then looked at me, but pointed toward the game systems. "I was playing _Dead or Alive 4_ for _X-Box 360_ before you came down here, Jeremy. My cousin has that game. I love it."

"You love playing a martial arts, fighting game?" I asked her, somewhat surprised. Lindsay was too sweet and docile to be interested in a violent video game. Or so I thought.

"I've always enjoyed playing it," she told me. "Would you like to play it with me? Please? Competition!"

"Sure," I smiled, reaching for one of the controllers.

"You know the red-head in this game?" Lindsay asked, firing up the _X-Box 360_ system by turning its power on. "I forget her name, but she reminds me an awful lot of Amy. The red-headed karate girl with the enormous chest?"

"Kasumi?"

"Yeah!" Lindsay chirped. "That's her name! Kasumi! Do you agree with me? Doesn't she remind you of Amy?"

I thought things over for a moment or two. "Yes ... as a matter of fact, she does. Interesting observation, Lindsay. I would have never thought of it myself." And you remind me of Rikku, Lindsay, I said to myself. Rikku is a character in _Final Fantasy X-2_ - which was my favorite video game of all-time (at least right now). Lindsay and Rikku looked so much alike that they could easily pass as long-lost sisters.

After a few seconds, I told Lindsay, "Kasumi is also in another game - _Dead or Alive: Xtreme Beach Volleyball_. She wears a string bikini the whole game."

"I want to play that game instead now!" Lindsay squealed.

-------

Wanting to help Louisa, the 76-year-old housekeeper, I began to clear the dining room table of all dishes and trays after dinner had concluded that evening. Amy, who worked as a waitress in her suburban Cincinnati hometown, decided to pitch in and help me with the clean-up too. Trish also lent a helping hand, although I told both ladies that I did not require or even want their help. They were, as I told them a few days ago, my guests. But Trish and Amy insisted...

Lindsay, Devon, Pamela and Camille all said they were going to change into their bikinis and go down to the beach for a dip in the ocean before it got too dark. After the dishes were taken care of and the formal dining room was spic and span, Amy said that she was going to join them. The insatiable red-head planted a kiss on Trish's cheek and mine, then smiled and sashayed off to her room to change.

Like all of the other ladies, I hated for Amy to leave, but _LOVED_ to watch her go. What a magnificent ass! She wore a pair of cut-off denim shorts, which clung tightly to that shapely ass of hers, accentuating its gorgeous shape and erotic firmness to the greatest extent.

As I watched the young woman strut away, I paid special attention to that wondrous backside. Amy's lush, round ass jiggled and twitched seductively with each and every step, her hips swaying from side to side in an exaggerated fashion. She was giving Trish and yours truly a little tease show.

"I think there goes my real dinner," Trish offered, her pretty eyes also trained on Amy until she soon disappeared around the corner. "Yum-yum, give me some..."

"Trish!" I openly scorned her, albeit playfully. I shook my head and added, "What's the deal, sweetheart? Aren't you going to join the others down at the beach, too? It's only going to stay light outside for another hour or so."

"I will eventually," Trish said, smiling, her expression somewhat suggestive as she looked at me. Trish, along with Lindsay and Camille, had not been with me in any sort of sexual situation yet. I had been with Devon, Pamela and Amy, but not the first trio yet. Was that about to change?

Soft green eyes and a lovely, cover-girl face gave Trish an innocent edge to her otherwise sex machine of a body. At 5-foot-4 and 118 pounds, not only was Trish very physically fit, but she was also incredibly voluptuous, too.

A fitness instructor in the Toronto area, Trish could easily pass as a centerfold model in an adult magazine. She had all of the qualifications for it, too. Not only was the blonde supremely stacked, with that immaculate face of hers to boot, but she also had a smile which could brighten even the darkest of rooms. Trish could really be a supermodel if she wanted to give the profession a try.

But the 30-year-old also had a charming personality and infectious attitude which drew others to her. I found myself thinking this about most of the ladies here, but it was the truth. All of them were very friendly and easy-going. Even Camille, though I did not like her right now because of her recent behavior, had her good moments.

As for Trish, that smile of hers was what always got me. Instead of calling it _pretty_ or _lovely_, let me say that Trish's smile could best be described as _genuine_. It was beautiful, indeed, but Trish seemed to convey a series of good vibes and positive emotions through her smile. It was the type of smile which clearly indicated that she was a warm-hearted and loving kind of woman. The type of woman, I am not afraid to say, that I one day wanted to marry.

Trish also seemed to possess a certain sense of poise and confidence about herself that I also found very attractive. She was not confident in an arrogant way, or even an outgoing way. Rather, Trish's confidence was subtle and mostly hidden below the surface. I could tell just from watching her these few days that Trish was a go-getter; she was goal-oriented and strived for nothing but the best in life. I liked that. That was, of course, my type of woman as well.

"I remember from your profile that you are a big-time fan of professional hockey," were my words for Trish, wanting to strike up an innocent conversation. "Correct?"

"Oh yes," she responded. "I love my hometown team - the Maple Leafs. I've been to a ton of their games over the years. You know that us Canadians just love our hockey, eh?"

I grinned at her. "I'm not much of a hockey fan, but I always heard that you actually have to go to a game instead of watching the sport on television to fully appreciate it. Then, after going to a game, you are hooked on it."

Trish nodded her head. "Yes, that's true. If we were in Canada, Jeremy, I would offer to take you to a Leafs' game. I would get you hooked on hockey. It is a great sport."

"I would gladly go with you, Trish."

"The Maple Leafs missed the postseason for the sixth consecutive year this year, unfortunately." Trish shook her her head and added, "It is seven of you count the lockout in 2004-2005 where the entire season was cancelled. You know, I was expecting them to go really far this year, but things did not turn out that way. I thought they had a chance to win the Stanley Cup. But ... I think that every year. I am forever the optimist when it comes to the Leafs." Trish shrugged her shoulders. "Up until a month or so ago, I was a fan of the Vancouver Canucks and the Ottawa Senators."

"Oh? Why is that?"

Trish frowned. "Those were the only two teams from Canada that even made the postseason this year. And, of course, both the Canucks and Senators lost in the first round - Vancouver to Los Angeles, and Ottawa to New York."

I chuckled gently. "Ahh ... a bandwagoner, huh?"

"Not exactly," Trish corrected me. "Mostly everyone in my country was rooting for Vancouver and Ottawa simply because they were, as I said, the only two teams from Canada to even make the postseason. People were high on Vancouver. They had the best record of any team in the regular season, but the Los Angeles Kings pretty much destroyed them in the first round. Ottawa was an eighth seed, going against a one in New York, and lost the decisive game seven on the road. They really should have won that series, though."

"Canadians want their country's teams to win?"

"It is really just a national pride thing for us," Trish explained. "Hockey is Canada's game. To bring the Cup home to Canada is where we feel it rightfully belongs. You see, Jeremy, hockey is a religion in my country."

"Has a champion been crowned yet?"

"No, game one of the Stanley Cup Finals was just last night. Los Angeles beat New Jersey, 2-1. I think the Kings are going to win it all. They have been unstoppable since the postseason started."

"You must be keeping up with the action here?"

Trish nodded. "I watched a live feed of game one on the Internet in the recreation room on Wednesday evening." She rolled her eyes and continued, "The Kings winning the Cup seems impossible to me. They have been for so many years. What that means, of course, for Canada ... the wait continues. The last team from Canada to win the Cup was Montreal some 19 years ago. That was _1993_. Before Lindsay was born! Hockey is Canada's game, and the Cup should belong to us."

"You sure love hockey," I observed. "I have talked more about it with you than everyone else combined in my life."

Trish giggled. "Hockey is everything in my country."

"My oldest brother, Dan, is a big-time hockey fan," I told her. "I remember there was a video game he loved playing back in the day - _NHL '94_. To this day, he still says it is the best hockey game for a video game system ever made."

"I agree," Trish said. "Nothing comes close. I'm a bit of a video game geek myself. A gamer girl."

"I'm more a baseball, basketball and football sort of person," I offered. "Professional, that is. I have my favorite baseball and football teams in Cincinnati, and then for basketball, the Lakers from Los Angeles. I know nothing of the Kings in hockey, though."

"The Lakers lost to Oklahoma City in the playoffs," Trish mused. "I saw that coming. They barely survived the first round against Denver. I think the Lakers' days of winning championships are over unless they make some changes to the team. They are getting old, and old fast. They could not keep up with the Thunder. But then again, who can? They are my pick to win the NBA Finals this year."

"When is game two for hockey?"

"Between the Kings and Devils?" she clarified. "Saturday night. Why do you ask?"

I shrugged my shoulders and answered, "I'll watch it with you if you don't mind the company." Trish smiled at the idea as I added, "Perhaps you could teach me a few things about the game? You are obviously an expert at it."

"I would love that!" the 30-year-old beamed. "Now ... if I could just make you into a Leafs' fan."

I laughed and countered, "I don't know about that."

"Reds, Bengals and Lakers, eh? You used to live in those cities, correct, Jeremy? That is what Devon was telling me and Lindsay yesterday, at least."

"Ohio for 12 years, New Jersey for six, California for four, with a short spell in Oregon, and then the last 16 on this tropical island." I chuckled before adding, "You know that Lindsay and Amy are from the same county where I lived in Ohio? I would call it a coincidence, but it's really not. One of the reasons why I chose Lindsay and Amy was because they, along with me, are from the same area."

"Amy lives more in the city while Lindsay is out in the country," Trish said. "That is what Devon was telling me, at least. They live only a couple of miles apart. I asked Lindsay, and she confirmed it."

I nodded my head. "Lindsay is from a really small town. That is why, I think, she seems so shy and reserved."

Trish flashed that remarkable smile once again. "I like Lindsay just the way she is. That girl is the sweetest little thing that I have ever seen." She giggled and added, "I want to take Lindsay home and play _house_ with her for the next 60 years. Nothing would ever make me any happier."

"Tell me about your family, dear."

Trish grinned again. "There is my mom and dad, and I have two younger sisters. Christie is 29 - one year younger than I am - and Melissa is 20." She hesitated before continuing, "It seems kind of strange because Lindsay is only 18. I always think that Melissa is so young and immature. But I'm crazy in love with someone who is even younger than she is." Trish flashed another smile. "Christie looks exactly like I do. The only difference is that Christie is a brunette."

I laughed. "That sure would be a vision ... two of you!"

"What do you mean?" Trish asked, twirling several strands of her long-flowing blonde hair around a single fingertip.

"You're a very beautiful, very smart and kind-hearted woman," I responded. "If your sister looks just like you do, and more importantly ACTS like you do ... wow, that would really be something. You're enough temptation for me as it is by yourself. Two of you would blow my senses."

"Oh ... that's so sweet," Trish cooed, batting her eyes.

I took a step back and smiled at the amazing beauty that was Trish. She wore a little pair of red spandex shorts, which ended several inches above her kneecaps. Her red top was equally body-hugging as well. It was very tight with a deep, plunging neckline, maximizing the appearance of her formidable cleavage. She also wore a pair of white sneakers and matching socks. Lastly, Trish had a white sweatband tugged across her forehead, with the crimson-red _Nike_ logo remaining visible to fully complement her athletic attire.

Indeed, I was very attracted to this beautiful woman. And that attraction was multiplying by the second.

"Have you ever been to my country, Jeremy?"

I nodded my head. "Yes, I have. It was in 2001, if I'm not mistaken. I had a business meeting all afternoon, then caught a baseball game that night at the _SkyDome_."

Trish flashed that genuine smile of hers once again. "You should have come and seen me back then, Jeremy. If it was in the spring or summer of 2001, I was only 19. I would have loved to catch a Blue Jays' game with you. We could have went out, seen the town ... had a good time together."

"Unfortunately, I did not know you back then," I grinned. "Else ... I would have gladly took you to the game." If I did know Trish in 2001, I said inwardly, she and I may very well be married right now. I could easily envision that...

"If I'm not mistaken, the game was on June 30, 2001," I told her, the details of that day and night coming back to me. "Toronto lost to the Boston Red Sox, 6-5, I believe."

"I was 19 then," Trish nodded. "2001 ... the Blue Jays had a bad year. I think we finished in third place."

"We? You must REALLY love sports," I commented, smiling. I know that there are several men out there in the world who would love to have a wife or girlfriend who was as interested in sports - both spectator and participatory - as was Trish. I was not a fanatic when it came to sports by any means, but they had always given me a good source of entertainment.

"My dad caught a foul ball when I was five," Trish mused. "It was at the old _Exhibition Stadium_ in Toronto, well before _SkyDome_ was built. It was my first-ever baseball game. Dad let me have the ball. I still have it on display in my house. I got the pitcher that night, Jimmy Key, to autograph it for me. Doug DeCinces of the Angels hit it. I can still see the ball coming right at us off of his bat."

"I came close to catching a foul ball once at a Reds' game in Cincinnati, with my brother," I countered. "I think I was 10 or 11. It was during batting practice. The ball was coming right at me, but someone from behind caught it at the last possible second. I was so mad. Eric Davis hit it. He was my favorite player growing up." I paused for a brief moment before asking her, "You follow football at all?"

Trish smiled again. "I went to my first NFL game back in December 2008. The Buffalo Bills played the Miami Dolphins in Toronto at _Rogers Centre_ which, of course, used to be called _SkyDome_. The game was boring; Miami won it 16-3. Buffalo will be playing another game in Toronto in 2012 ... I already have plans to go and see it as well. I am not really a fan of theirs, but I love watching the NFL and seeing it live for the first time in 2008 was pretty awesome."

I smiled. "You are a living, breathing encyclopedia when it comes to sports, Trish. You know a whole lot more about them than I do. I have never met a woman like you."

"What has happened thus far during these four days is much different than what I expected," Trish admitted, deciding to change the subject. I wanted to talk more sports with her...

"What do you mean?"

"I fully expected you to have all of us in some sort of non-stop orgy by now. With all of the money that you're paying us, I was really expecting nothing less. I thought that you would be some sort of big-shot playboy type of guy."

"I might still turn out to be that way," I wryly retorted, shrugging my shoulders in an innocent fashion.

"I don't think so," Trish grinned, shaking her head. "You seem entirely too nice and sweet to be a pervert. I think you're a good guy who has some naughty fantasies. That is what this whole thing is about. Yeah..."

I laughed softly. "I shall take that as a compliment. Tell me, Trish. Is this a complaint of yours? Do you WANT to be in an orgy right now, and for me to be a pervert?"

She shook her head again. "No, not at all. I'm glad that you're allowing us, as you said earlier in the week, to go at our own pace. Thank you, Jeremy. Thank you."

"Your comfort is my goal," I reminded her. "That is my motto for these six weeks. If you are not comfortable, Trish ... or any of the others are not comfortable for that matter, then I'm not accomplishing my goal. Very simple."

Smiling, Trish leaned upward and planted a simple kiss on my cheek. I was not expecting it from her and thus, I now found myself blushing beet-red. Trish's smile became even brighter as she gauged my heartfelt, sincere reaction.

"Thank you for making this a lot easier than it should be," she said, leaning up and kissing my cheek again. "For a long time, I was apprehensive about coming here. About what I may have gotten myself into. The way you have treated us, though ... it is the best-case scenario that I could ever ask for. You've been a perfect gentleman, Jeremy, and I see no reason why that would ever change. You've made this - the idea of living on a remote island in a strange house with a man I never met before - so very easy. Not to mention five other girls I never met before, either. Again, thank you."

"You're welcome," I told her, still somewhat embarrassed. I touched my face with my right hand, then looked at it for several seconds. I could not believe that Trish had kissed me. Of course, I was not complaining about it. No way...

"I also wanted to thank you for what you did for Lindsay, and her family," Trish smiled. "Lindsay was telling me all about it earlier. She said her mom already has the money. That was incredibly sweet and gracious of you, Jeremy. I was even thinking of wiring Lindsay's family some money myself. I have a little stash of my own in the bank."

"You really care for that girl ... don't you?"

Trish shrugged her shoulders and offered an impish grin. "Like no one ever before, yes. I'm in love with Lindsay."

"Have you told her that yet?"

Trish pouted for an instant and replied, "No, not yet. I don't want to scare her off, or anything. I've been down that road before, but on the opposite side. I want to go slow with her. You know, Lindsay is worth the wait, eh?"

I nodded my head. "I agree. She is worth the wait."

Trish giggled and pointed toward the dining room exit. "I better get going if I want to catch up with the others before they all hit the beach. Why don't you join us, Jeremy? Maybe we can build a bon-fire and have a long talk? Everyone could sit around the fire. It would be fun."

"Sounds like a plan," I grinned. "I'll be down in a bit. I need to change into my swimming trunks."

"I need to change too," Trish squealed, before smiling once again. "I'm all dressed up in my workout gear because I was in the exercise room before dinner. That place is so huge. It shames the fitness club in Toronto where I work. This mansion has everything a person could ever want."

I tilted my head and asked, "Can we talk again like this? I like talking to you, Trish. You're a neat person."

"Of course we can."

"Good."

Trish smiled again. "I better go and change if I want to go to the beach with the others. See you there too, Jeremy?"

When I nodded my head, Trish waved her hand at me and then turned to walk away. Just like moments ago with Amy, I hated for Trish to go ... but _LOVED_ to watch her leave. I fully appreciated a round, firm ass encased in spandex...

-------

"God..." I moaned a short time later, my body full of sexual anxiety, as I made my way into my personal suite. "What a lady!" I added, shaking my head. Now, Trish was nipping at the heels of Devon and Pamela as the woman at the forefront of my thoughts - and for good reason. Trish was a goddess! Not only that, but Trish was also a true sweetheart! I wanted the opportunity to get to know Trish on a much more personal (and intimate) level. Of course, the same could be said for all of the ladies here too. I was still willing to give Camille another chance...

As I turned the corner and was about to whisk my shirt off, I suddenly froze up, and my eyes nearly exploded at what they saw in front of me.

Lounging upon my own bed was the darling Lindsay, who simply wore an oversized night-shirt on her nubile body. Perched upon her side, Lindsay propped her head up with an elbow and offered me a nervous smile. I got the sense that Lindsay wanted to be bold, but her shy and humble nature was holding her back somewhat. Still, the question begged...

"What are you doing here?" I managed to get out, admiring her silky blonde hair as it was pulled into a pony-tail. Not only was I surprised with Lindsay's presence, but my heart was suddenly beating at a rapid rate of speed. Indeed, what was Lindsay doing here right now? Why was she wearing just a night-shirt and laying upon my bed? I thought she was going to the beach with the others. That was what she claimed.

One of my house rules was that no one was allowed into my personal suite without my explicit permission. Obviously, I did not invite Lindsay to come waltzing in here this evening. This was the one rule that I wanted to place the most amount of emphasis on, but Lindsay - of all people - violated it. She had entered my private bedroom without my content.

Thus, I was seething inside. I was angry. Beside myself. But of course, I would never let Lindsay know those feelings. I refused to display any sort of negativity around her. I was not the type of person to express any dissatisfaction while in the presence of beautiful ladies - especially toward those who were on my island. I was just happy that all of them were here. The last thing I wanted to do was make the group of ladies angry at me. The best way to avoid that, I figured, was to always give in and do whatever they wanted.

"I wa-want to have s-sex with y-you," Lindsay stammered. "Would you ... would you like that? Right now? With m-me?"

"_WHAT_?" I asked, stunned.

Lindsay shook her head and fussed, "You are the nicest person that I have ever met in my life, Jeremy. You're also the easiest to talk to. If I lose my v-virginity on th-this island, which I will, I think it should happen with y-you."

I would be a fool to not be interested in what Lindsay was offering me, but my more sensitive side had its concerns - as it always did. "Are you ready for that, Lindsay? You were telling me just earlier today that you want your first time to be special. If not someone you love, at least someone who is a friend. You and me ... we just met this week, honey. I ... I don't want to take something important from you, and then for you to regret it in the future."

"I don't think I would regret it," Lindsay stressed. She took a deep breath and found the courage within herself to go forward with her proposal. "Look at what you did for my family! I overheard Devon telling Camille that none of us will ever find a nicer and more honorable man than you. I won't ever regret losing my virginity to you, Jeremy, because I think you'll make me feel special. I just KNOW it."

"Can you sleep on this?" Although my cock was so hard that it actually hurt in my trousers, that was my initial, gut reaction. I did not want Lindsay to make a mistake and then regret it in the future. "Sleep on this, sweetheart. Think about it ... I just want you to be sure."

"Out of all the possibilities, I never thought someone would refuse me when I offered to have sex with them for the first time!" Lindsay whined. "There is nothing for me to sleep on, or think about. I want to have sex with you, Jeremy." Lindsay finally seemed assured and confident in what she was saying to me. "And I want it _RIGHT NOW_!"

"Lindsay, I just don't want for..."

"Don't you like me?" she cried, cutting my words off.

"Of course I like you!" I moaned. "You are a very nice, very beautiful young lady. I like you a lot. I just ... I don't you to make a mistake and regret it. I don't want you to think that you HAVE to do this. I was never looking for any favors when I sent your mom that money, dear. I don't want you to feel compelled to do this. You don't have to. Please don't feel that you owe this to me because of what I did for you and your family. You don't owe me a thing. I had no ulterior motives in wiring that money to your mom. I did it ... because it was the right thing to do."

"Why are we even having this discussion?" Lindsay fussed. "What is there to talk about? Why aren't you kissing me? Better yet, why aren't you making love to me right now? Do I have to throw myself at you like Amy to get what I want?"

Okay. That was it.

I took a deep breath and nodded my head in agreement. How could I resist this virgin teen-ager who wanted to have sex with me so badly that she was actually crying about it? "If this is what you want, sweetheart, then ... then I can help."

"Good!" Lindsay beamed. "Trish should be here real soon."

I gulped my throat and clarified, "T-Tr-T-Trish?"

"I left a note in our room for her to come here to your room and meet me," Lindsay cooed, her face suddenly turning red. "I want Trish to be here too. I want her to take part in everything ... I want her with us."

I gulped my throat again. "You want a ... a three-some?"

"I think it would be wild!" Lindsay exclaimed. "To lose my virginity in a three-some would be an absolute, dream come true! Don't worry, Jeremy. Trish likes you. I want you to take my virginity, but I also want Trish here, too. I want her to HELP you take it from me."

"Sweetheart, I don't..."

"What's going on here?" Trish asked, suddenly appearing in the open doorway behind me. Her eyes went wide at the sight of young Lindsay wearing the oversized night-shirt. "I got your ... what in the ... what are you doing, Lindsay?"

The 18-year-old took a long, deep breath and responded, "I want to have sex with you and Jeremy. Right now."

"Both of us?" Trish screeched, momentarily looking at me. When I shrugged my shoulders at her, Trish re-focused all of her attention onto Lindsay. "Are you sure, honey?"

"I'm more sure about this than anything," she answered. "To be with my two favorite people in the world - you and Jeremy - for my first time. It would be so special." The little blonde moaned and licked her lips at the mere sight of her girlfriend. "I want you so much, Trish. Ever since I saw you at the airport in Miami this past Monday, I knew that you were the girl for me. Your body is so hot. It is everything that I have ever dreamed about in another girl. I ... I know I haven't said to you yet, but it's the truth."

Suddenly very interested, Trish stepped forward and climbed onto the bed with Lindsay. "I know that you are still a virgin, honey. Are you positive about this, eh?"

Lindsay nodded. "Yes, positive. Without a doubt."

"Even after our long talk from earlier? When we talked about waiting, and letting things happen naturally?"

"This seems perfectly natural to me."

"Are you ABSOLUTELY positive you want this right now?"

"Yes."

"Why now?"

"Now seems like the right time."

"There is no possible chance you will regret doing this?"

"None whatsoever," Lindsay guaranteed.

Literally glowing, Trish glanced at me for a quick moment before turning her full attention back toward Lindsay. "I have never had a three-some before." She bit her lower lip and cooed, "This will be something new for me, too."

Lindsay nodded her head and smiled. "We can all share in it together ... the three of us. It will be perfect."

"Would you like to kiss me right now?"

Lindsay went short of breath. "Oh dear God ... yes."

Trish curled her neck and met the young woman's lips with her own for a very slow-moving, deep kiss. Pure and total excitement seemed to wash over Lindsay's face all at once as Trish literally serenaded her mouth with the most gentle, loving kiss that she could possibly offer.

The erection within my trousers was reaching monumental proportions as I stood off to the side and took in the natural, untamed beauty that was Lindsay. She was a magnetic and gorgeous little thing, with her flowing, yellow-blonde hair up in a pony-tail, her wholesome smile, her slender legs, those taut breasts and immaculate, unblemished skin.

I then recalled a thought that I had about Lindsay during her first day here. Indeed, it seemed as if she belonged on a homecoming float somewhere right now. Lindsay was so tantalizingly young and innocent. She appeared to be no older than a sophomore or junior in high school...

I actually had to remind myself on more than one occasion that Lindsay was of legal age (albeit, just barely). Why was this little girl on my island right now? Wasn't there a high school mathematics class that she should be attending? That was another thought that dawned upon me. Then, I reminded myself that Lindsay already graduated from high school - a mere six days ago. She reminded me of jailbait. No wonder she earned that nickname from her co-workers...

I was so lost in my naughty ideas that I did not realize that the mutual kiss between Lindsay and Trish had reached its conclusion until the Canadian's voice broke my trance.

"Would you like to kiss Jeremy now, honey?"

Her face flushed red once again, Lindsay turned her focus toward me and nodded her head. Wow, I said inwardly. There was a thick blotch of lipstick - courtesy of Trish's mouth - on Lindsay's cheek. Now, my cock began pulsating.

"Come here, Jeremy," Trish instructed me, her right arm outstretched. "Come here and get a kiss from Lindsay."

Stepping forward, I climbed onto the bed and offered Lindsay my most reassuring smile. There was plenty of hesitation on her part, but she was also incredibly aroused. The look in those pretty, sea-blue eyes of hers told me so.

"Kiss her," Trish instructed me, but I too, hesitated.

"You kiss me," I said to Lindsay, wanting her to make the first move between us. This had to be her decision.

An instant later, as I stood on my knees upon the bed, the teen-ager moved upward and pressed her lips to mine for a soft, delicate kiss. Now seated behind her, Trish reached forward with her right hand and gently ran it over and across Lindsay's tight, little ass. I wondered whether or not she had panties on underneath her thin night-shirt.

Lindsay moaned and broke our kiss, then turned her head and glanced back at Trish as she now used both hands to gently squeeze and massage her ass.

"You like that, baby?"

Lindsay closed her eyes and sighed for a moment, then nodded her head. "Yes ... very much so. I ... I like your hands ... touching me. I like it ... a lot."

"You have a beautiful body," Trish complimented her. "You are so, so gorgeous, and precious." Lindsay blushed yet again as Trish added, "Is it okay if I take your shirt off?"

When Lindsay nodded her head in response, Trish smiled.

"It's like unwrapping a birthday present," the 30-year-old swooned, gently lifting Lindsay night-shirt up, and over, her head. The luscious vixen was decked out in a simple white bra and panties. Her face was so red now that it seemed as if she had just dunked it into a can of fresh paint. I would bet my bottom dollar that Lindsay's heart was racing, too. This was totally unchartered territory for her.

"It's okay, baby," Trish soothed, encircling Lindsay's body with both arms from behind. "You are such a pretty girl. There is nothing for you to be embarrassed or shy about. Nothing at all. You're the most beautiful girl in the whole, wide world. Be proud of your body and the way you look. Don't be scared. You should feel good, because Jeremy and I want to look at you, and admire you. We want to worship you. And trust me, we will worship you. We will worship you from head to toe all night long." Trish planted a kiss on Lindsay's bare shoulder. "You really are like a birthday present to me, sweetie. My birthday may not be until December, but you're still a present to me. June or not. The best present I have ever received!"

"You're a present to me, too," Lindsay whispered. "Hey, my birthday is in December too. December 4th."

"Mine is the 18th," Trish countered. "Sagittarius rule!"

Lindsay giggled. "I'm not into that zodiac stuff."

"Why don't you take your shirt off, Jeremy?" Trish said to me. "Let Lindsay have a look-see at your chest."

"Can I take it off myself?" Lindsay asked, her voice low.

Trish's smile went even wider. "Of course you can."

I allowed every muscle within my body to relax as Lindsay gathered the lower half of my t-shirt with her hands and pulled it upward. She lifted my arms and soon, my t-shirt was a distant memory. Lindsay reached out and ran her hand across my left pectoral, licking her lips in the process. Ripples of pleasure cascaded all throughout my body in response to the feel of her delicate hand and fingertips on my skin. Lindsay really seemed to enjoy touching my chest.

"How about my top, eh?" Trish cooed, gaining Lindsay's full attention. "Would you like to take my top off now?"

Again, Lindsay nodded her head. Then, she sucked in her breath once lifting the front of Trish's aerobic top over her head. Her eyes now glazed over with lust, Lindsay took in the lovely sight. "Your breasts are so beautiful, and big," she said, her voice soft and breathless. "Wow..."

Trish giggled at the compliment. "Would you like to touch them, honey? Maybe even kiss them? Go right ahead. Do whatever you please to them."

"Kiss them," Lindsay squealed, before leaning over and attaching her lips to one of Trish's plump, juicy nipples. The temptress immediately began slurping and sucking on that nipple as if she was an infant seeking nourishment.

When I made eye contact with Trish, we exchanged a series of glowing smiles. She was floating somewhere high in the Heavens right now. It was clearly obvious that Lindsay was Trish's ultimate fantasy come to life. Right now was, without a doubt, the greatest moment of Trish's entire life thus far. I could tell just by looking into her eyes. She was head-over-heels in love with Lindsay. Thus, I was happy for Trish. I also felt very privileged to be a part of such a unique moment. Words could never do it justice.

Trish crooked a finger and motioned for me to come closer to her. When I did, she sought my lips out with her own, and we shared a deep, tongue-filled kiss. All the while, Lindsay continued feasting on that sensitive nipple.

When our kiss concluded, Trish cradled Lindsay's head with her hands and gently nudged her away from her breasts. "I have something even better in mind, honey. Something even better for you to suck on." Trish's eyes drifted toward me and she purred, "Take your cock out, Jeremy."

As my heart literally skipped a beat because of those words, Lindsay turned her face and immediately glanced down at my crotch. Once I slid my pants and briefs southward, and my bulging erection came into view, Lindsay again licked her lips. Meanwhile, Trish scurried off of the bed and dropped down to her knees upon the carpeted floor.

"Come down here with me," Trish instructed Lindsay. "All guys really love it when we suck their cock on our knees."

Lindsay did was what requested of her - gliding off of the bed and then settling down onto her knees upon the floor - but she seemed to fidget about somewhat. "This isn't the most comfortable position, you know," was her comment.

Trish giggled at her. "It'll be okay, baby. My knees used to hurt too. But you'll get used to it eventually. Whenever I have had a boyfriend in the past, it seemed as if I spent a _LOT_ of time on my knees for him." She giggled again and chirped, "You'll have knees of steel here, soon!"

Trish's words made me groan, but I think they flew right over Lindsay's head. The darling 18-year-old may not have even heard them at all. Her gaze was suddenly transfixed on my hard, throbbing shaft.

Trish smiled at her. "You like that big, juicy cock, eh?"

Lindsay moaned. "Yes ... I ... I love it. I ... I always wondered what one would look like, up-close and personal."

Trish tilted her head to the side. "Do you want me to show you how to suck it?"

"God, yes..."

Using her right hand, Trish grasped the base of my shaft and gently frigged it before slipping its length into her warm, velvety mouth. My senses nearly exploded in a sea of lust as she slowly bobbed her head back-and-forth across it.

Still fidgeting about upon her knees, Lindsay was next to Trish and looking at her with curious eyes. Trish removed her hand from the base of my shaft and glided it down to my testicles, then inhaled my full length into her mouth. Trish glanced up at me and smiled, then withdrew my erection from between her moist, pouty lips, and offered it to Lindsay.

"Nothing in the whole, wide world tastes any better than a big, hard cock," were her words. "Go ahead, baby. Take it into your mouth and get a taste."

Little Lindsay did what she was told, but only after admiring the sight of my bulging shaft for several seconds. She eventually opened her sweet, young mouth, and took my erection inside. She clamped her bright red lips around its diameter and instinctively slid her tongue across its thick, pulsing head. I was about to lose it already...

Off to the side, Trish looked on and smiled in approval. "That's it, Lindsay. Any normal man will get excited by pumping his cock in-and-out of your mouth or pussy. They really love the in-and-out movement. So when you're sucking Jeremy's cock, slide it around, move it back-and-forth. If you want, you can also pump and squeeze it with your hand. Don't do it too fast, though, unless you want him to blow. Usually, you'll want your man to last as long as possible because it prolongs the pleasure for both you and him."

"Blow?" Lindsay asked, popping her lips off the tip of my cock. She followed Trish's advice, though, and gripped its base. "Is that when he'll shoot the white cream out?"

"Yes, sweetheart. When a man cannot take any further excitement, he will cum, or ejaculate. That's the white cream that you're referring to. You really want to make his pleasure last, as well as yours, as long as you can. But there will be times that you'll want to go fast, too. It really depends on each specific situation, and the mood. Right now, though, try and make it last as long as possible. In other words, be slow and gentle. Make love to his cock."

Lindsay nodded her head and then swallowed my shaft back into her exquisite, suck machine of a mouth.

"If you want to know a secret, the most sensitive part of a man's cock is the underside - behind the tip." Trish's green eyes flashed as she added, "If you lick it with your tongue while you suck him off, it will drive him crazy."

Lindsay withdrew most of my shaft from her wondrous mouth, then placed the tip of her tongue on the spot that Trish suggested. She rapidly slid her tongue across it while also sucking and slurping away on the head of my shaft.

Suddenly, my knees felt very weak "Oh God..." I moaned, reminding myself that I was invading a virginal mouth. There was so much pleasure for me right now that I feared that I may just faint. But, Lindsay seemed like a natural for this. Even at this early stage, I believe she had the potential to be an expert when it came to sucking cock. Lindsay certainly had an excellent instructor to show her the ropes...

Trish giggled. "Only use your tongue on that area of his cock for a few seconds at a time, unless you want him to cum for you." Lindsay pulled back as Trish continued, "If you want him to cum, lick that spot while you suck him. Now, take him back into your mouth and suck him off slowly. Make it last for both you and him. Again, do it slowly..."

"Oh God..." I moaned again, tossing my head back. I took a deep breath and glanced down at Trish, whose right hand was continually patting and massaging Lindsay's firm, little ass through the white panties she still had on. I shook my head and proclaimed, "You've turned into a blowjob coach."

Trish giggled again. "I'm imparting my years of wisdom upon Lindsay. I've sucked a lot of cock in my life, you know, and I'm more than happy to teach others how to do it."

"Lindsay is a good student," I growled, the level of pleasure within me reaching epic heights. "REAL good."

"Is it okay if I take your bra off now, sweetie?"

Gone was the usual look of embarrassment and shy nature on Lindsay's lovely, pristine face. She was so much into the glorious act of servicing my cock with her mouth that she yanked her own bra downward, seemingly without a thought, exposing her breasts. Trish finished the job by unhooking Lindsay's bra in back, and then tossing it elsewhere.

In no way was Lindsay the deep-throat specialist that some of the other ladies on the island had proven to be. Thus, Lindsay could only fit a little more than half of my full erection into her mouth. Still, I was not complaining. The simple fact that Lindsay was a virgin and that my shaft was the first she had ever tasted more than made up for whatever lack of skill she possessed. Thus, because of that, this was - _BY FAR_ - the best blowjob that I had ever received!

"We need to get that cock inside of you," Trish cooed, gently pulling Lindsay's head away from me. She turned her face toward Lindsay's and offered her a deep, probing kiss. Her hands now playing with each of Lindsay's ripe, perfect breasts, Trish finally broke the kiss and moaned, "Oh yes ... we need to get that big cock inside of you."

As good as that sounded to me, I had another idea in mind.

"Would you like to go oral on Trish?" was my question for Lindsay. "_I_ will be happy to teach you how to do it."

"I'd like that," the teen-ager responded, grinning. At the same time, Trish quickly disposed of her spandex shorts and the white G-string she had been wearing underneath.

"Lay down on the bed, angel," I told Trish.

"Yes!" Lindsay squealed. "Lay down!"

Trish raised her knees and spread her thighs, then placed both feet onto the mattress. By putting her beautiful pussy on display like that, it was obvious what she wanted. Trish wanted me to show Lindsay how to service her pussy orally.

As she climbed up onto the bed, Lindsay licked her lips at the mesmerizing sight. "I have long dreamed about having a girlfriend. But to be honest, I thought this day would never come." Lindsay seemed to shudder with arousal as she admired the 30-year-old's pussy with her eyes. "Oh my stars ... it looks even better than I ever thought it would."

I joined Lindsay on the bed and gently patted her shoulder with my right hand. "You thought this day would never come? Is that because you live in such a small town?"

She frowned and nodded her head in response. "There are plenty of girls that I like there, but I'm too afraid to step forward and say so. If word ever got out, I would be the laughingstock of the town. It's so small, and everyone there knows everyone. I don't want my little secret out."

"You won't have that on this island," I assured her. "All of the girls here are just like you."

"They're all gorgeous, too."

"So are you," Trish told her. "So are you. Go ahead, Jeremy. Show her how to lick my pussy."

Just when I was about to give her a demonstration, Lindsay stopped me. "No. Let me do it on my own."

I smiled at her. "If that's what you want. Just ... put your face in there, and slide your tongue around. Women really enjoy it when others concentrate on their clitoris, which is the little nub of skin that you see there. Lick it, caress it with your tongue. Nip at it gently."

"It is really sensitive," Lindsay nodded, before her face turned beet-red again. "I know that my own clitty is really sensitive." Oh?, I said inwardly. Did Lindsay just admit to us - in an indirect manner - that she had masturbated before?

"Don't be afraid to use your fingers on me," Trish cooed. She eyed Lindsay, a look of total lust on her face. "Take your panties off, baby. Take your panties off, and then all three of us will be totally nude. That's how it should be."

Lindsay turned her head toward me and offered a shy laugh. "You take my panties off, Jeremy. You take them off..."

My eyes wide (and my cock still raging), I watched Lindsay roll onto her front side and then settle herself down directly between Trish's outstretched thighs. She continued to admire that sweet pussy for several seconds, then finally extended her tongue and offered it a tentative taste.

"How is it?" I smiled.

"I like it!" Lindsay swooned, before swiping her tongue across those luscious, puffy folds again. She let loose with a little growl, then began to lick away at Trish in repeated fashion. A quick check of Trish's facial reactions told me that she was incredibly turned on right now, too.

"That's an all-you-can-eat-buffet, sweetheart," I said.

"You can say that again!" Trish huffed. "Especially when a tongue like that is on the opposite end!"

"Am I really doing good?" Lindsay wondered, hopeful.

"Oh yes ... you most definitely are, honey," Trish assured her. "Just keep licking my pussy. Keep licking it!"

With that added boost of confidence, Lindsay settled her pretty face in even deeper and then really went to town on Trish's intoxicating slit. At the same time, I reached out and gently caressed Lindsay's supple, firm ass. It was just about time for me to get rid of her white panties.

Slowly but surely, I peeled the waistband of those panties downward and was rewarded for my effort with the beautiful sight of a virgin pussy. Lindsay rose up to her elbows and knees as she continued to lash Trish with her tongue, and even wiggled her ass about in a seductive manner for my eyes. Needless to say, I nearly blew my load right then and there. Was that an instinctive move, or did she do it on purpose?

Massaging her own large, luxurious breasts as she squirmed and writhed about in pleasure, Trish raised her head up and looked squarely at Lindsay. "We need to get that cock in you. Would you like that, baby? Would you like it if Jeremy was the one who popped your little cherry?"

Lindsay withdrew her face from the joining of Trish's lush thighs and glanced back at me. "Oh yes ... I would. I would absolutely LOVE for you to pop my cherry, Jeremy."

It was unbearable for me to see this peppy, All-American girl smiling at me with a dreamy look on her face, her long-flowing blonde hair wound and tightly tied up into that adorable, bushy pony-tail. Her slim, golden body and those enchanting eyes were suddenly overflowing with lust for me, and what I could do for her. Or, _take_ from her.

"Anyway you want, dear, is fine with me," I told her.

Trish lunged at me and fretted, "I want to help put your cock in her pussy. Can I, Jeremy? Please? Please?"

There was no need for me to respond to her request, simply because Trish already knew the answer. After I prepared to mount Lindsay in the missionary position, Trish beamed with delight as she reached out and grasped my erection with her right hand. I moved forward slightly, and then Trish nudged the head of my cock onto Lindsay's vise-tight pussy. Lindsay extended both arms and latched onto me as I (along with help from Trish) forged my cock into her tiny, little crevice.

Lindsay did not moan or grunt, but her eyes told the story as I looked down at her. Those lovely, baby-blue eyes were wide and almost set to burst as I gently forged inch after excruciating inch of my cock between the folds of her pussy. Soon, I had reached the thin sheath of skin known as the hymen (or, in more common (slang) terms, the cherry).

Her eyes still fixated on my face, Lindsay then squealed with maddening delight as I sank my cock deeper into her and thus, tore down that once-in-a-lifetime barrier. Streamers of tears even cascaded down her face as she now held onto me as if her very life depended on it. This was an incredible moment, to say the least, made even better by all of the circumstances which had led up to it.

Trish, who had removed her hand from my shaft seconds ago, reached down and caressed Lindsay's face. She even leaned over and kissed away several of those tears. "It will hurt for a bit because this is your first time, honey, but then the pleasure will overcome you. It will just OVERCOME you. Trust me on that. And it only hurts the first time."

"It already is ... overcoming ... me," Lindsay struggled out, every muscle within her body contracting at once. "Oh my..."

Speaking of being overcome with pleasure, I found myself in the same boat right now. How my cock had not exploded yet within the confines of that tight, unforgiving pussy was well beyond my understanding. I needed to make this last, but I was unsure how much longer I could sustain my erection. How many more chances would I have to deflower a virgin? This was a first for me, and most likely the last.

Trish rose up to her knees beside me and placed her lips on mine for a soul-touching type of kiss. A moment later, Lindsay again squealed with undeniable passion as I began to gently thrust my cock in-and-out of her.

"Oooooh!" she exclaimed. "Oh Lord ... it feels so good!"

I grasped Lindsay's legs, which had been encircling my waist, and hooked them over my shoulders. This allowed me to increase my leverage, as I was able to lean over a bit more. It also gave the two of us the deepest level of penetration possible while in the missionary position. That was the most important thing of all, obviously.

"How does that little, virgin pussy feel, Jeremy?" Trish taunted me, as I continued to slide my cock in-and-out of Lindsay at a very slow, gradual pace. Certainly, it was not my intention to be too forceful with her. Not yet, anyway.

Trish kissed me flush on the lips once again. She turned her attention toward Lindsay. "Everything okay, sweetie?"

"Oh Lord ... everything is fine," Lindsay moaned.

Needless to say, the amount of pressure on my cock was overwhelming, but I continued moving myself in-and-out of Lindsay. In fact, I slightly increased the speed and tempo of my thrusts. This caused Lindsay to scream and wail out in response, her firm, lithe body thrashing about wildly.

"Oh my God!" she moaned, as I picked up steam. "Oh God! It's so big! It feels so BIG!" The blonde even began to pound her open hands down on the bed in repeated motions. "Oh my God ... GOD ... GOD ... YES! YES!"

Lindsay's reactions became more animated (and louder) once I started to plow my way in-and-out of her scrumptious pussy at a very high rate of speed. My hands were now latched onto her ass and I held it with all of the strength I could muster as I churned myself into her. The harder and faster I pumped away at her, it seemed, the more excited she became. But in no time flat, though, I was suddenly running on fumes. There was no way that I could last much longer.

"OH GOD ... I'M GONNA CUM!" Lindsay screamed.

That was it.

Those words sent me over the edge. I hammered myself into her pussy one final time, stuffing my erection to the absolute hilt. Then, my whole body literally exploded.

Both Lindsay and I screamed in unison as we experienced simultaneous orgasms. We shivered and shook together, our bodies greatly surpassing their thresholds of pleasure. I growled out like a madman as glob after thick glob of sperm was being jettisoned from my cock directly into her womb. At the same time, this tempting, little thing voiced her own passion as her feminine release trickled down her thighs and onto the mattress below. Oh God, I said inwardly. Lindsay was no longer a virgin, and _I_ was the main reason why.

I leaned downward and encircled Lindsay's supple body with both of my arms. I gave her a tight and reassuring embrace, then simply collapsed on top of her. I let out a content, long-winded sigh, my cock still buried within her depths. One of my hands, I realized, had drifted toward her ass and was gently massaging it. That, I thought, was instinctive.

In the aftermath, Lindsay was glowing as she hugged and clutched my body with equal fervor and emotion. She had the side of her face buried into my chest, and was groaning out in a constant, non-stop manner. It was more a purr than a groan. Yes, Lindsay was purring like a kitten.

"I've never felt so good in my LIFE!" she exclaimed, suddenly tearing her face away from my chest and looking directly into my eyes. "Oh God ... that was INCREDIBLE!"

"You were incredible, dear," I said, before my mouth was met by a barrage of kisses from Lindsay. Never one to stray too far from a sexual situation, Trish hugged the charming 18-year-old from behind and kissed her shoulder.

"I'm so happy that you enjoyed yourself!" she grinned, her expression overcome with delight and total, sheer joy as Lindsay turned to face her. "Did this live up to your expectations, honey? Was your first time having sex better or worse than you imagined it would be?"

"It was better," Lindsay responded. "Much better. You and Jeremy made it better than it had any right to be." She glanced back at me and cooed, "Especially you, Jeremy. I will never forget this night for as long as I live. NEVER!"

"I have much more to teach you, Lindsay, and show you!" Trish exclaimed, again taking on the role of the experienced mentor. "Next time, you can suck Jeremy's cock until he cums in your mouth. And you can lick my pussy until I cum, too. I have to teach you how to swallow!"

"I could suck cock and lick pussy all night long!" Lindsay swooned, before offering her patented, shy smile. "I'm gonna need a lot of practice time for both, you know."

"I have no problem with that!" Trish giggled. "What about you, Jeremy? Do you have a problem with it?"

I vigorously shook my head. "Not at all."

Trish smiled at her again. "How about YOU let ME lick your pussy now?" Lindsay blushed as Trish added, "I will make you SCREAM out in another orgasm ... I promise!"

Lindsay wiggled out from underneath me and then settled down onto her back upon the opposite end of the bed. She even spread her slender thighs and offered Trish a sultry gaze. "I'm the one open for business now. Free meal..."

Trish was set to pounce on Lindsay and literally devour her pussy, but I grabbed her shoulder and pulled her close to me. Trish stared up at me for a moment, confused, but that changed once I smashed my mouth to hers for a kiss.

My kiss was needful, and very intense. I was vividly reminded of just how much I was attracted to Trish. It also made me feel so happy inside that Trish was afforded the opportunity to help me in deflowering Lindsay's pussy. After all, Trish was in love with her.

And suddenly, I was in love with _BOTH_ Lindsay and Trish.

Trish grinned as Lindsay began to gently frig my cock with her right hand. "Do you want to get him hard again, honey?" Lindsay nodded her head as Trish continued, "Maybe you could suck on his cock some more while I eat your little pussy? At the same time? How does that sound?"

Lindsay blushed yet again, but licked her lips in response and then nodded her head emphatically. "I would love that."

This was quickly turning out to be a night that _I_ would never forget, either. What did I ever do to deserve this?

I had six whole weeks with not only Lindsay and Trish, but Devon, Pamela, Amy and Camille too. And that is not even mentioning my friend who would arrive tomorrow, Kristanna. Being the only man amongst seven ravenous, insatiable women, I obviously had a lot of hard work ahead of me...



-------

Chapter 6: Vernacular


Looking over at Kristanna for a brief instant, I could not help but to openly smile at her. Was there anything not to appreciate about this enchanting young woman and her overall physical appearance? If so, I certainly was not aware of it.

Kristanna's graceful, tall frame, long-flowing blonde hair and pretty blue eyes helped make her into a classic beauty. Her mascara and bright lipstick seemed to make her face glow in a truly exotic fashion. Even better, the mini-dress that Kristanna wore had a plunging neckline, which offered a nice, tantalizing view of her sexy, yet humble, cleavage.

Kristanna, of course, was my friend from Norway. Blessed with a very slender and athletic body, her personality and infectious demeanor matched flawlessly. She had been a ray of sunshine in my life ever since the day that I met her some four years ago. Now, Kristanna had finally made her return to the island. I could not be any happier, either...

As we were en route from the heli-pad to the mansion in my trusty, old Jeep, I glanced over at Kristanna and smiled at her once again. "How was your trip, dear?"

"It vas long and tiring," she replied, using a Norwegian accent. "Da vedder vas so cold and brisk in Oslo last night. But I shed me yacket ven da plane reach Florida. It vas like night and day, Jeremy. Florida be steaming hot!"

I grinned at her. I simply loved to listen to this young woman talk. Her unique (and extremely sultry) voice ALWAYS made me smile. I also liked her yacket/jacket pronunciation. I sometimes wondered why Kristanna said my name correctly. Why wasn't I Yeremy, instead of Jeremy, to her? Norway was a great country to have produced a woman like this...

I was so glad that Kristanna had finally returned to the island after a three week hiatus. After all, Kristanna was the primary reason why all of the other ladies were here on the island in the first place. Without her assistance. I would still be living on this tropic of Eros all by myself.

Kristanna's travels started last evening in Oslo, Norway, where she boarded an airline flight to Frankfurt, Germany. The 23-year-old hooked up with a connector flight to Miami, Florida, and then finally made her way to Lima, Peru.

From there, she was escorted to the island in a helicopter by a pilot friend of mine (whose name was Kevin). Her family lived outside of Oslo, but Kristanna had also spent some time in California during recent years as a college student. She was majoring in - of all things - archeology.

Of course, as I continually gawked at Kristanna, I knew that the other ladies would grow to like her just as much as I did. She was just so nice and friendly, and charismatic. How could anyone not like a woman this beautiful and funny?

"Tell me about da udders," was her next comment. "Do yew have a favorite amongst da girls yet?"

"I thought I did, but I'm not so sure anymore," was my response. "If you made me pick one right now, I think it would be ... Trish. Yes, Trish. I have gone through so many of the girls this week, and flip-flopped between them so many times, that I am going to hold off for a while before I finally decide who my favorite really, truly is. At various times I have liked Lindsay, Devon, Pamela, Trish and Amy the most. Since yesterday, at least, I am becoming more and more attracted to Trish. Yesterday was ... it was ... INCREDIBLE. The most incredible experience of my entire life, bar none."

Kristanna smiled at me. "Vat happened yesterday?"

"Trish helped me take Lindsay's virginity."

"Oh," Kristanna responded, looking a bit surprised.

"I still cannot believe that we brought a virgin to the island with us, Krissy. Lindsay is so sweet and innocent, and so young! She reminds me of you when you were 19."

"I vas not a virgin ven ve meet each udder back den."

"Yes, but you were sweet and innocent." Kristanna smiled at my words as I added, "You still are - just like Lindsay."

"But yew like Trish da most now?"

I nodded my head. "Yes, right now. But that is subject to change. It can change from minute-to-minute, actually. Of the girls, I think Devon has the biggest crush on me. In fact, I think that goes without saying."

"Ahh yes, I remember Devon from da computer," Kristanna mused. "Devon is da pretty blonde from Pennsylvania, no?" I nodded at her as she continued, "From da pictures on yewr computer, I liked Devon da most. She da prettiest. I have to see dem in person, dough, to be honestly sure. So ... let me get dis straight. Yew like all of da girls here? Vait a minute ... yew name every girl on da island except Camille?"

I shook my head in a painful manner. "I do not know if I really like Camille as a person. She has said some really hurtful things about not only me, but a few of the others as well. In her defense, though, Camille and I haven't had the chance to sit down and really talk with each other yet. Most of my time has been spent with Devon, Pamela and Amy. I just had a three-some with Lindsay and Trish yesterday. I cannot emphasize enough how incredible it was, Krissy. I had never been with a virgin before. Well, you know that."

"Lindsay is da Bible girl if I am not mistaken? She be da one voo really devote herself to its teachings, ya? Da one vid da aspirations of one day getting into da ministry? Yust like her papa? Follow in his footsteps?"

I nodded my head. "Yes, that would be Lindsay."

"Pamela and Amy ... vat are dey like?"

"I really like Pamela a lot, Kristanna. And Amy is just the way that the computer program predicted she would be, judging from the questionnaires we sent out many months ago."

"Amy da slut puppy!"

Keeping my eyes focused on the road in front of me as I drove the Jeep, I told her, "Yes, you can say that."

"I am sorry I could not arrive here earlier," Kristanna frowned, deciding to change the subject. "Had problems vid da passport. Had to get me passport straightened out first."

"It's okay, sweetheart." I just loved that accent! "It wasn't your fault. I'm just glad that you are finally back with me. I always miss you when you leave."

"I missed yew too! Du inviterer alle disse kvinnene her for å være med deg siden du leter etter kjærligheten. Men jeg elsker deg mer en noen av dem kan noen gang komme til å gjøre. Jeg bare håpte at du kunne innse det."

I shook a menacing, but playful finger at her and grinned, "Don't you go Norwegian on me, sweetheart. You know I cannot understand a word you say - and it drives me crazy."

"But it be fun," she giggled. "And yew crazy anyvay..."

"That's not very nice," I scolded her in a teasing way.

"How is Blakken?" Kristanna inquired, referring to her horse here on the island. There were a pair of horses in the stables (Blakken and Smokin' Satin Bars (my horse)). Blakken is some sort of Norwegian name, but I do not know if it has any special meaning or not. Knowing Kristanna the way I do, though, it probably means something extremely funny.

"Blakken is fine," I responded. "I have been taking good care of both of the horses in the stable."

"And vat about Vincent Van Goat?"

I laughed at the mere mention of Kristanna's pet goat. Now that was a cute name for an animal. "He is fine, too. I saw Lindsay and Trish playing around with him on Tuesday. All that goat of yours does is eat, drink, sleep and play."

Kristanna tilted her head to the side. "Bow Vow Meow?"

Bow Wow Meow! Now THAT is a name - for a cat - which I find to be totally hilarious. "Just fine, dear. I am sure that Bow Wow Meow will be happy to see you again. Before you ask, Hogglesworth the Pig is perfectly fine, too. And those two geckos you have - Geico and Gonzo - are plugging along. I had them out for a while earlier, playing with them. Jack Rabbit and Bugs Bunny are the same as always, too."

"Let us not forget Da Lambinator!"

I laughed and shook my head at Kristanna because of her quirky attitude. "The Lambinator ... I had to pay for a veterinarian to come out here from the mainland two weeks ago." Kristanna suddenly looked frightened as I continued, "I could tell that Lambinator was sick and not feeling good. The veterinarian took a look and said he had an internal parasite. He gave me some medicine, or drenches as I think he called them, and told me to administer them to Lambinator every day for ten days. Apparently, it worked. Lambinator is acting like his old self again."

Relieved, Kristanna took a deep breath. "Dat is good. Yew had me vorried dare for a minute. Yew know how much all da animals mean to me, Jeremy. Lambinator is da oldest - age eight - of all da pets I have on da island. Are yew sure dat he is feeling better? Are yew sure dat he is cured?"

"The doctor told me what trouble signs to look for," I answered. "I have not seen any of them pop-up yet. You know more about sheep than I do, Krissy. So, you are very welcome to take a look at him once we get to the mansion."

She nodded her head. "Yes. I vill look at him."

"Lambinator is, as always, in the fenced-in area outside with Vincent Van Goat. They have been getting along good."

Needless to say, Kristanna was an animal lover. She had grown up on a humongous farm in Norway which was home to a wide variety of animals. Over the four years that she and I had been friends, Kristanna had persuaded me into bringing a large collection of animals and pets to the island. Although they all lived here and I was the one who took care of them more often than not, Kristanna still considered all of these pets to be her very own. I had no problem with that.

"Bow Vow Meow, yew better be nice to me pussy ... cat."

I snickered and shook my head because of Kristanna's playful nature. "I am ALWAYS nice to your pussy ... cat."

"Have yew been taking Yack Rabbit and Bugs Bunny out of dare bunny condo so dey can get dare daily exercise?"

"Of course," I nodded. "I take the rabbits out of their cage and let them rumble throughout my bedroom for an hour or two each and every day. I also ordered them some new chew toys, and they seem to love them. Keeps them occupied."

"Dat is good," Kristanna surmised. "Yew alvays do a great yob ven looking after all me pet animals here, Jeremy."

"Thank you, dear."

"No ... dank yew, Jeremy," she countered, grinning. "Yew do a vunderful yob vid dem. Hey ... did yew buy ATV off-road vehicles for all of da girls like I suggested yew should?"

I smiled at her. "You bet I did. You gave me a big list and I bought everything on it two weeks ago. Nothing was left out. No expense was spared. Not for these girls."

"Vat about me high score on da pinball machine? Is it still dare? Or did yew beat it yet?" Kristanna giggled at her own words. "Vell, of course yew beat it..."

I laughed at her. "You still have your high score on your favorite pinball machine in the recreation room. I haven't beaten it yet. You are right, though. I beat other things."

"Like yewr cock..." Kristanna chided.

"You're a naughty girl. A very naughty girl."

"So yew are happy?" she asked in that unique voice, as I drove her to the mansion in my Jeep on this Friday evening. "Yew are happy vid all da girls yew bring to da island? Is all da trouble dat ve vent true really vurd it?"

"These five days have been the best five days of my entire life," I told her in response. "But things are even better now, because you're back with me." I grasped the blonde's left hand with my right and brought it to my lips, then offered it a tender kiss. "You make me happy, dear. And yes, everything was worth it. Well worth it."

"I go avay for one day and miss yew, Jeremy," Kristanna grinned. "But tree vull veeks! Ven I come here, dough, I miss me family too much. I need a happy medium!"

I smiled at her and said, "I hope you are hungry, dear. We're only 30 minutes away from dinner-time. I even got Louisa to fix one of your favorite meals - lutefisk."

"Oooooh, lutefisk!" she exclaimed, referring to Norwegian cod soaked and pickled in a lye solution. "Had some lutefisk two nights ago but happy for anudder today. Lutefisk pizza! Yew ordered lefse? I like dat, too."

"Of course. You know Louisa will fix whatever we ask her to - even your crazy food. So are you hungry? Have you had anything at all to eat today?"

"Momma fixed vafler before I left." She pouted and added, "But dat vas 24 hours ago. Flight lasted forever. Oslo, Frankfurt, Miami, 14 hours. Miami, Lima, six hours. I did have two hot dogs at Miami airport, dough. Big vieners!"

I laughed at her. "You like big wieners?"

"Da bigger, da better," she grinned.

"What is vafler?"

"Vaffles and sour cream. Yum-yum. But no food on da airplane ride. Airplane food, yuck-yuck."

Kristanna and her words never failed to make me smile. "You must be starving, then. We'll get some food in you." Laughing, I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it again. "I'm so glad you're back where you belong - on this island."

"Jeg hører til her med deg, gift."

"Kristanna!..."

-------

Dinner-time on the island was set for 7:00pm each and every evening, and tonight would be no exception. All of the ladies were required to be in the large dining room at that time, where Louisa, the 76-year-old housekeeper, would serve up the most scrumptious food ever known to mankind.

Tonight, it was no different. Louisa had fixed all of us a huge, wide-ranging buffet of foods. How could anyone go wrong with a selection of marinated chicken to choose from, as well as freshly baked turkey breast, Angus rib eye steaks, pork sausage patties, lasagna, wild rice and various seafood and salad dishes? If anyone were to make it to dessert, Louisa had even prepared a raspberry chiffon pie.

As all of us - myself and the seven ladies - enjoyed our delicious meal, we got better acquainted with each other. Our conversation was quite lively and included many various topics. Kristanna, who seemed to be a big hit with everyone due to her accent and overall friendliness, conveyed some stories to those who were interested about life in Norway.

Kristanna spoke highly of the 300-acre farm that she lived on with her parents, saying it was one of the most profitable markets in all of Norway. The farm even featured a bakery, an ice cream parlor and a petting zoo for young children.

There was a six hour difference between Norway (located in the Central European Time Zone) and the island (Eastern Time Zone), Kristanna told us. The average temperature for this time of year (June) there was 70 degrees Fahrenheit, but it had dipped down to 48 last night before her departure. In fact, Norway rarely topped the 75 degree mark all year.

Here on the island, of course, it was winter in this part of the world (in the tropics). But winter here meant 70-75 degree weather, so it was not much different than what she left behind in Norway (although the past couple of days had been somewhat humid). The hottest months here were January, February and March (with average temperatures of about 80). I considered those months to be the dog days of summer.

At the dinner table, Kristanna even convinced Trish to try a bite of her precious lutefisk. Trish, who claimed to enjoy fish in general, said lutefisk had a strange taste. In other words, she did not like it. If there is one thing that I have learned from having Kristanna as my friend over the past several years, it is that people in her native country have a very unique and exotic appetite. I did not care all that much for Norwegian food myself. Her people did eat a lot of seafood, though, and that was probably one reason why Kristanna was so healthy, and in such excellent shape.

Pamela told everyone that she was simply amazed with not only the beauty of the island and its surroundings, but also the ocean itself. It was crystal-clear, which was vastly different from the ocean in Maryland - where Pamela resided. She could not believe how beautiful the water was.

Camille claimed that she had the most boring job in the whole world - being a title processor for a real estate agency in the San Diego area. Camille told everyone at the table that the opportunity to get away from her job and spend six weeks on an island paradise such as this was something that she simply could not pass up. The only redeeming thing about her job, Camille explained, was that she got along with all of her co-employees. Some were even close friends. Other than that, though, she was happy to get away from it.

Lindsay went onto share a story about the supermarket in Ohio where she was employed as a cosmetics clerk. The young woman said that customers - of all ages - were always trying to flirt with her. Gee, I said to myself. I wonder why? Lindsay was the epitome of sweet innocence, and everything that an 18-year-old girl should be. Any man who was older (like me (38)) would love to get his clutches into her.

Devon had no job to speak of, simply because she had quit her position as a project manager for a large corporation in Pennsylvania in order to come to the island. Basically, Devon told her counterparts here at the dinner table the same thing she had said to Camille during their first night here (when I eavesdropped on them by way of the voyeur room).

Devon felt that she was being cheated and stepped on at her job, as her boss always took the credit for the 80 hours (and sometimes more) of hard work she put in every week. Even though Devon claimed that no one at the company worked harder and more diligently than she did, she said that it seemed as if a promotion would never come her way.

Trish had the slimmest of leads in the race for who was my favorite lady from the entire group. She barely edged out Lindsay, Devon, Pamela and Amy. I found myself attracted to the Canadian after having witnessed the tender and loving manner in which she helped me take Lindsay's virginity. Go ahead and accuse me of being a hopeless romantic, but I felt like wrapping my arms around Trish's wondrous body and never letting go because she was such a warm, compassionate person. I really liked that trait in a woman.

Kristanna was very observant when she stated earlier that Camille was the only woman whom I failed to mention when speaking about potential favorites. Suffice it to say, but I did not particularly care for some of the things Camille had said since her arrival on the island.

Camille tried to convince Devon that I had nothing but evil intentions in mind with the whole island concept. Camille was brutally direct and blunt (to be the point of being nasty) when she suggested that Trish should sit back and watch her give a good, hard fucking to Lindsay at the water basin two days ago. What made those words downright despicable was the fact that Lindsay, still a virgin at the time, was also there with them. It was wrong of Camille to say that in her presence. Just plain wrong.

Still, being the very forgiving person that I am, Camille one day emerging from the pack as my favorite was not out of the realm of possibility. For that to happen, however, Camille would need to show a very different attitude toward not only me, but the others as well.

I found dinner-time to be very fascinating and insightful on this warm June evening. I loved to listen to any and all information concerning the girls. I wanted to know every little detail about their lives. I considered the entire group - even Camille - to be my private flock of angels.

"Tell us about your job, Amy," Trish said to the red-head. "You're not a pornstar, or Internet sex model ... are you?"

"No, but maybe I should be," Amy replied. "Sounds better than what I am - a Professional Nourishment Provider."

Many of the ladies appeared to be dumbfounded for a brief moment. "What was that?" Trish asked, finally speaking up. "Professional Nourishment Provider? What the heck is that?"

"Oh..." Amy said, matter-of-factly. "Some people refer to my job as a Nutritional Transport Engineer. But you know what? I like Professional Nourishment Provider much better. I think it has a better ring to it."

Trish just looked at Amy and shook her head. She was lost. The other ladies felt the same way. They had no idea what Amy was talking about. I did, however, and smiled to myself. I remembered Amy's occupation from her profile. I then recalled that Pamela knew about her job as well.

Amy giggled and finally confessed, "I'm a waitress!"

Trish paused for a second, taking that in, then laughed. "Hey! That was cute! Professional Nourishment Provider ... Nutritional Transport Engineer. Waitress. Originals?"

"P-N-P is an original of mine," Amy replied. "But N-T-E, a friend thought that up. It was her idea. I will gladly take all of the credit for it, though!" Amy snickered for a few more seconds and then offered, "To be precise, I am a Hooters girl. I am both a waitress and bartender there."

"Hooters?" Lindsay asked, her tone a bit incredulous. "Isn't Hooters like a strip club, or something?"

Amy laughed at Lindsay's utter naivety. "No, Hooters is not a strip club! Don't you ever get out, girl?"

"Do you have anything against people who work at strip clubs?" Pamela asked, her own voice leery.

Obviously recalling that there was someone here - Pamela - who actually was employed at such an establishment, Lindsay seemed eager to back off of her words. "Oh! I ... I ... I didn't mean anything negative by it." The 18-year-old then cast her eyes downward, perhaps a bit ashamed. At least Trish was there to slip a reassuring arm around Lindsay's shoulder and give her a peck on the cheek.

"Hooters is inherently a sexually charged atmosphere," Camille said. "I've been to a couple of different Hooters in my life, and they are all basically the same. Beautiful women squeezed into too-tight tank-tops and orange shorts ... they make you forget the fact that the food there is quite mediocre." She hesitated for a moment, lost in thought. "Hooters is like a strip club, but only it's safer."

"Oh, stop it!" Amy responded in defense of her employer. "Families go there! Mom and Dad bring the T-ball team or the gymnastics girls ... I see kids where I work every day."

"What type of message do parents send to their children when they take them out to eat at a place where all of the waitresses are women in ultra-tight clothes, bearing as much cleavage and leg as possible without breaking the law?"

Amy had no answer for that question from Trish. Instead, she simply glared at her with inflamed eyes.

"The last time I went to Hooters, a few months back, I tried to tuck a buck in the waitress' shorts when she brought me a draft refill," Camille chuckled. "Needless to say, she did not appreciate it. Nor did the management. I also told the waitress that if she ever got a job at the strip club down the street, I would go there and tip her even better."

Lindsay seemed absolutely bewildered by that statement. As I sat idly by here at the dinner table with everyone else, I actually had to stifle a laugh because of the look on the poor girl's face. Obviously, she had never been involved in a discussion quite like this before.

"I have been to Hooters once in my life," Devon mused. "It seemed one step above a strip club, if you ask me." She quickly turned toward Pamela and added, "Not that I have anything against strip clubs or people who work there, mind you. Just, Hooters is not a family-type restaurant to me."

Kristanna decided to add her own unique thoughts on the subject. "Vatever dis Hooters place be - beautiful vomen vid cleavage and legs on display - I need to check it out!"

Perhaps wanting to lighten the mood - after all, Amy was getting hammered here from all ends because of her job - Trish decided to change the subject. "Hey Lindsay, how about you tell Kristanna and the others about that man and his son you came across in Miami on Monday? The ones who knew you?"

"Oh ... yeah!" Lindsay chirped, her zest and enthusiasm suddenly returning. "I stopped at the Chinese food mart at the Miami airport this past Monday, in-between my flights on the way here to the island, and this little boy runs up to me, screaming. His father flags him down and tells him that yes, this is the nice girl who helped us pick out Mommy's perfume last week at [Supermarket Name]. I was totally dumbfounded. I could not believe that I had come across one of my recent customers, from all the way back home in Cincinnati, so far away in Miami. I remembered them, too. I helped them pick out perfume for a good 15 minutes that day. The man said that he and his family were flying to Antigua on vacation, and I told him I was going to Peru. I still cannot believe that I saw one of my customers there."

"I am sure that the father wanted you," Amy told her. "I bet that he wanted to make you into his 'lil slut daughter."

"AMY!" Devon gasped.

Trish made a face at those words and quipped, "Is that all you think about, Amy? Sex?"

"Yeah ... pretty much."

Trish shook her head. "On my airline flight from Toronto to Miami, I sat next to a man who was going there to visit his father, who had been diagnosed with cancer. Listening to him made me feel very sad, and reminded me just how much my own family - especially my mother and father - mean to me. I called them both the very moment the plane touched the ground and told them how much I loved them and would miss them."

"I wish I could see my father again..." Lindsay pouted.

"Did you ever think that he was lying to you?" Amy asked Trish. "He could have just made all of that up so he could talk to you. It was his way of flirting, and making you feel sorry for him. Maybe he thought he had a chance at getting some from you before you took your connection to Peru."

"Amy!" Trish exclaimed, upset.

"You don't make up stories about cancer," Pamela sniped.

"I was lucky on my flight from Philadelphia to Miami," Devon said. "There were three seats in my row, but I had the whole row to myself. I did not have to sit next to anyone. I stretched out and relaxed ... listened to my iPod. I'd have died without it because I don't like flying at all."

"I have no idea how much Jeremy paid for my first class ticket from Los Angeles to Miami, but the guy who sat next to me said his was $2,900 when he bought it at the counter just before the plane was about to take off," Camille told us. "For such an exorbitant price, the little flight attendant - Hayley was her name - I was thinking the whole time that she should have offered everyone complimentary blowjob or pussy licking service." The lusty Latina laughed at her own words and added, "For $2,900, why not? That is ridiculous."

"I vant to be on an airplane dat offers dat!" Kristanna exclaimed, giggling merrily.

"That would be a good job for Amy," Pamela smirked. "A flight attendant who takes care of customers on her knees?"

"Talk about flying the friendly skies!" Devon grinned.

With so much sharing and playful banter (and sometimes not playful) amongst the entire group, I found this particular dinner to be my favorite thus far. I believe that Kristanna and her presence had a lot to do with it. Kristanna had the unique ability to bring out the best in everyone, and get them to open up. Plus, she was a total riot to listen to.

I hated for our meal to end, but realized that time would come sooner rather than later. At least no one left the dinner table for 90 minutes, though. That was excellent.

-------

Kristanna was a very beautiful young woman with a classy appearance - especially with her long-flowing blonde hair pinned up (like now). There were so many wondrous details about her outer beauty that I could delve into, but perhaps the most striking thing about Kristanna were her legs.

At 5-foot-11, Kristanna had what best could be described as skyscraper legs. They were incredibly sleek and toned, with nary a blemish on them. Even better, those legs seemed to go on forever. Kristanna was incredibly thin (only 115 pounds at her height) and did not have the overly voluptuous figure that many of the other ladies here did. But she more than made up for whatever deficiencies with those legs.

Camille, who stood 5-foot-9, also had legs which were very long and graceful. But I am afraid that they did not even compare with the beauty and symmetry of Kristanna's legs, which appeared worldly in their own right.

Best of all, those wondrous legs of hers were on total display as she paraded about my personal suite in nothing but a black bra and G-string set on this Friday evening. Everyone had retired to their respective rooms for the night. Kristanna and I were no different. She was not always going to sleep with me, but that was the plan for tonight. We would worry about tomorrow when the time came.

"Yew looking at me legs again?" she swooned. "BAD BOY!"

"You're quite the bad girl," I countered, being playful. "The only reason you stripped down to your little bra and G-string is so you can tease me, and drive me crazy."

"Is it vorking?"

"Yes, it is. Very much so." The 23-year-old let loose with a charming smile as she took a seat directly across from me upon the bed. I inhaled sharply and told her, "I've said this a million times tonight, dear, but I think it bears repeating. I've missed you so much over the past few weeks. You're my best friend in the whole, wide world. I wish that you could live here with me, full-time."

"A nice dought, but I vould miss me family too much," she remarked. "Maybe yew could bring me family here - to island?" Kristanna laughed at the mere thought and added, "I could see dat. Momma and Papa vould yust not like it here. Dey prefer farm life at home in Norvay, ya."

"You've told me that before, sweetheart."

"I vant to know much more about Devon," the seductress offered. "I dink Devon may very vell be da sexiest voman dat I ever meet. Vat do yew like about her, Jeremy?"

"Oh, can I say ... everything?" I replied in a serious tone. "I don't know, Kristanna. This may sound hard to believe, but for as beautiful as Devon is on the outside, she is a million times more beautiful inside. Plus, Devon wants all of the same things that I do in life, too."

"Den I have someding else in common vid her!"

I smiled at Kristanna and added, "I am still going to evaluate all of the others and focus on them individually before making my final decision, though. It's just very difficult right now. Lindsay, Devon, Pamela, Trish, Amy, even Camille. This is going to be a tough decision."

Kristanna took a deep breath. "I yust vant yew to be happy, Jeremy. Dat is all I have ever vanted for yew."

I grinned once again and told her, "I trust that you will find the right man - or woman, too, dear. Who knows? Maybe that person is on this island right now. You said that you like Devon the most, right? Talk to her."

"Hmmmmm ... Devon," she purred. "But I like Trish now too. I like all da girls! Dey all pretty!"

"How do you say I love you in your language?" was my next question. "Maybe I can spring it on whomever I choose and see if I can get a reaction or not."

"Jeg elsker deg."

I did not realize it at the time, but Kristanna said those same three words - jeg elsker deg, or I love you - to me while we were riding in my Jeep hours ago. Perhaps I took her words out of context since they were said in a very large sentence, but after realizing it was the same quote (days later, with the aid of the voyeur room), I began to wonder...

Was Kristanna in love with me?

Our prior attempts at a bona-fide relationship always seemed to fail no matter what we tried, though the two of us remained the absolute best of friends. I had my share of highly intimate moments with Kristanna, indeed, but I still could not look at her as anything more than a friend. A close, wonderful friend, indeed - but a friend nonetheless.

The biggest obstacle we had in terms of a commitment was the simple fact that she was a farm girl from Norway, and I was an islander from the South Pacific (though born and bred in the United States). Neither of us wanted to leave our respective homelands, although Kristanna did go to college in California. Nothing against California, mind you, but I did not want to reside there, either. I lived there before and had no aspirations of ever moving back. Geographics had forever blocked any chance of a real commitment for us.

"How is me English?" Kristanna asked, looking hesitant. "I have been vorking super-hard on it da past few veeks."

"Your English is fine, sweetheart. You have that accent and you pronounce a few things differently than common English-speaking people, but it is fine. You've come a long way in the four years that we've known each other."

"I could barely speak a lick of English ven ve meet da first time! Going to university in Los Angeles has helped."

I shook my head and mused, "I still cannot believe that you are studying Archeology. You could be exploring a dark cave somewhere someday, and while everyone is having a turkey sandwich during lunch break, you could have lefse."

"And lutefisk!" the young woman giggled.

"You're priceless, dear. Just priceless."

Kristanna seemed to notice the huge bulge within my shorts as I used my right hand to reach out and touch her face. The erection could not be avoided, as the gorgeous Kristanna was lounging upon the bed in nothing but her sexy black bra and G-string. Those heavenly legs looked most inviting...

"I have you to thank for all of these girls being in my life," I said, embracing her warmly, my voice delicate and soothing. I gently nibbled on her earlobe. "How will I ever be able to re-pay you in exchange for helping me write that matchmaker software? These girls are angels."

"Betal meg tilbake? Du kunne giftet deg med meg isteden."

"Why do you do that to me?" I smiled and shook my head at her. "Why do you slip in Norwegian words like that all of the time? I cannot understand a single word of it!"

"As I said earlier, it be fun. I like yew not knowing vat it is dat I say to yew, Jeremy. If yew vant to know vat it means so badly, den simply learn me language!"

"You could be cursing me out..."

Kristanna laughed at my words. "I do not dink so." She brushed her long-flowing blonde hair away from her forehead with an arm and mused, "I need a snack before going to bed."

"Would you like anything specific? A sandwich? I'll be happy to get something from the kitchen for you."

"I vant some cock," Kristanna replied, which temporarily caught me off-guard. The ravishing young woman emphasized her point with a subtle, sensual move - by licking her lips. Next, she broke away from our embrace and dropped down to her knees beside the bed. Kristanna looked up at me and pointed toward her mouth. "Can yew give me a snack?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

Kristanna smiled and crooked a finger, motioning for me to move closer toward her. I did just that, then let out a soft, gentle moan as she immediately reached out and ran her long, slender fingers over and across my crotch.

Kristanna smiled once again as she then rose up to her feet and wrapped her arms around my shoulders for a loving embrace. I immediately sought her mouth with my own, our warm tongues slipping and sliding together over an easy, languid exchange. Soon, I tilted my head to the side, allowing myself better access into that velvety mouth.

Naturally, after pulling Kristanna close and hugging her myself, my right hand drifted downward. I ran it over and across that nice, firm ass, then ventured even lower. She giggled upon our shared kiss as I caressed the back of her thigh, tracing the tips of my fingers over it. I stood up and increased the ferocity of our deep, mutual kiss.

Kristanna giggled yet again as she backed me against the night-stand and then hooked her opposite leg around my own. Our kiss intensified, naturally, and soon I was ravaging her mouth with all of the passion and fervor I could muster.

"Oh yeah," I sighed as Kristanna then reached into my shorts and pulled my semi-hard cock out, breaking our kiss in the process. She again dropped to her knees and tugged my shorts downward with both hands, then began to pump and squeeze my shaft toward an aching, powerful erection.

"Dis vill really be more dan a snack for me," Kristanna snickered, her right hand a blur it frigged the base of my shaft. "I am going to treat dis like da main course!"

I groaned with pure arousal as, while still perched on her knees, Kristanna snaked her head toward my pelvis and then engulfed my awaiting cock into her hungry mouth with one, swift movement. Oh ... what a wonderful feeling!

As usual, Kristanna moved slowly. She wanted this to last for both of us. With each head-bob, the quirky vixen looked up at me and smiled. I cannot say enough good things about a woman who enjoys the simple pleasure of performing oral sex for her man. Especially when that man is me!

As could be expected, Kristanna looked wonderful on her knees in front of me. She was still dressed in that sexy, little bra and G-string set. Best of all, however, those lips of hers had formed a large 'O' around my erection as she gently worked away at it.

I surrendered myself to the sensations of her lips, tongue and throat, as all three provided me with wondrous pleasure. Soon, her bobbing motion quickened and my testicles seemed to tense up. I could feel an orgasm brewing. Combined with the sight of Kristanna's blonde head bobbing back-and-forth as she slurped me into a frenzy, I lost control of myself.

I thrusted myself forward and buried my erection deep within her throat. Sperm jettisoned outward as if it was fired from a cannon. Kristanna wrapped both arms around my hips and dug her long fingernails into my skin, her throat making a hungry, hearty sound as she guzzled down every last ounce of sperm which I had produced for her.

As my body then crested downward from the incredible height of orgasm, I sighed deeply as Kristanna withdrew my cock from her exquisite mouth. She grasped its base once again and squeezed away, her lovely eyes sparkling as she gazed up at me in a passionate manner.

"Aren't you the sweetest thing?" I asked, taking a step back and then leaning over. Kristanna smiled as I planted a simple kiss on her forehead. "So very sweet."

"Dat hit da spot," the young woman swooned, extending her tongue and then licking her lips. "Dare is nudding quite like da taste of cum at night! Or in da morning, or da afternoon ... any old time, for dat matter!"

I grinned at her. "You're a naughty, little girl."

"Ve are going to have a lot of fun over da next five veeks vid all dese pretty girls on da island. Dank yew, Mister Jeremy, for letting me be a part of dis. Dough, I did miss nearly a vull veek. Unfortunately. But dank yew."

"It was the least I could do, Krissy. After all, you are the one who helped me find all of them in the first place." I smiled at her and asked, "Can I have a snack now?"

Her smile brightened. "I dought yew vould never ask!"

When Kristanna rose to her feet, it was my turn to drop to my knees. Or, at the very least, drop to one knee. I did just that, then reached out and gently massaged both of her immaculate legs with my hands. Eventually, I found the need to kiss them. I trailed my tongue over-and-across her thigh, and even nibbled oh-so-tenderly on her kneecap. I slid one hand upward, squeezing and prodding her tight ass.

Using both hands, I slowly but surely nudged her little G-string down until it fell harmlessly to the floor in a circle around her bare feet. I was rewarded for my efforts with the sight of the sweetest, prettiest pussy in all of the world. I just had to lean forward and gently kiss it.

"How's my honey?" I asked, staring at that little pussy.

Kristanna decided to remove the black bra that she was wearing herself. She cupped and squeezed each of her modest breasts with her hands as I was still on bended knee in front of her. "Yew da naughty one, Jeremy. But I like yew."

"Lay down on the bed for me."

She obliged, but only after leaning over and planting a sensuous kiss on my lips. Kristanna groaned and sighed seconds later when, flat on her back, she spread her thighs for me. Wow, I said inwardly. Her pussy was beautiful.

"All I need now is a fork and one of those big napkins," I grinned, my eyes transfixed on her womanly treasure. "This is the best all-you-can-eat buffet in the world!"

"Eat as much of it as yew vant," Kristanna giggled. "Yew know dat I love it ven yew eat me pussy, Jeremy, but yew do not do it enough. Eat as much of it as yew vant, ya."

I smiled. "I may just go all night, then."

"Yust do not use a fork on me pussy ... please!"

I chuckled at her. "I'll try not to."

Kristanna groaned once again, this time as I extended my tongue and swiped it over the full length of her exquisite, velvety slit. I used fingers from my left hand to part those lush folds, then inserted my tongue for a taste. She was, as you may imagine, absolutely delicious.

As I soon began to concentrate on the most sensitive flap of skin any woman has - the clitoris - I embedded a pair of fingers into Kristanna's depths and kept them there for now. My tongue was fast and furious as it licked and dabbed away at her clitoris. I did feel like tasting her all night...

Showing her true appreciation for my oral work, Kristanna sought my right hand with her left, and squeezed tightly. She was not about to let go of it, either, as I worked her pussy into more of a frenzy with every passing second. "Oh, Jeremy ... Jeremy..." Squirming about, she arched her neck and back high in response to my handiwork. "Yes, Jeremy..."

"You're the best friend anyone could ever have," I told her. "I'd do anything for you ... Missy Krissy. Anything."

"And I vould do anyding for YEWWWWW..." the blonde sighed, as I increased the speed and tempo of my probing tongue. In addition, I was jamming two fingers in-and-out of her pussy at a rather frenetic pace.

Once Kristanna began to squeal and grunt, I knew I was guiding her along the right path. It would not be too long before I brought her to an orgasm. I would enjoy watching it happen just as much as she would enjoy experiencing it.

When Kristanna's entire body seemed to tighten up all at once, I thrusted two fingers into her pussy one final time, and burrowed my tongue in quite deeply as well. Kristanna put a vise-tight grip on my head with her long, slender legs, and screeched out at the very top of her lungs.

I lapped up the delicious passion fruit of her release with my probing tongue. Only once her orgasm had crested and then began to fade away did Kristanna loosen the grip across my head with her muscular, yet doe-like thighs.

My thirst temporarily quenched, I slid my head upward and came to a stop once Kristanna and I were at eye level. We exchanged smiles, then I gave her a kiss on the lips.

"I know yew are going to hate me for dis, Jeremy," the Norwegian frowned. "But I be really tired. I vas on da airplane for tventy hours today, at da least." Her frown widened as she added, "I need to get some sleep."

I chuckled at her. "You think I want to have sex all night long with you? Is that why you think I'll hate you?"

"I do not DINK yew vant to have sex vid me tonight," she countered, grinning. "I KNOW yew vant to have sex vid me." She giggled and added, "Yew nasty pervert..."

I smiled down at her. "Look who's talking."

Kristanna even let out a little whimper of a cry. "I am so sorry, Jeremy. But I be beat. I need some rest. Maybe yew and me can have sex some udder time, ya?"

"We have five more weeks," I reminded her. "The most time you have ever spent with me on the island was 11 days in a row. Remember that? Last year? Anyway, I am really looking forward to spending all this time with you, Krissy. You're going to be my naughty, little co-hort here."

"How could I miss being around so many beautiful vomen?" she cooed. "Dis is like dream-come-true for girl like me."

I slipped both arms around her lithe body in an embrace and smiled once again. "You can go to sleep, fine. But I get to hold and caress your body all night long."

"Oooooh ... I have no problems vid dat!"

-------

"Kristanna and I have been good friends for four years," I said to the entire group the following morning, as all eight of us were gathered together at the dining room table.

"Four very LONG years," Kristanna snickered, nibbling on her breakfast meal (bacon and eggs). "I am used to having an open sandwich vid butter and yam, and slices of meat or cheese for breakfast. And milk from da cows."

"Are you complaining about Louisa's cooking?" I asked.

"Oh no," Kristanna replied, shaking her head. "I dink Louisa is a great cook. Yust telling yew and all da udders vat it is dat I am used to ... dat is all."

"Butter and yam?" Camille asked, confused.

Pamela giggled. "I think she meant butter and jam."

Kristanna focused her attention onto the girls and added, "Jeremy and I have been friends for four years. How I lasted dis long vid him as me friend is, how yew say ... beyond comprehension." Kristanna laughed at her own words, letting all of the ladies know that she was simply joking around. That was good. Kristanna should rarely be taken seriously.

"How did you and Jeremy meet, Kristanna?" Devon asked.

"I vas visiting Inca ruins in Peru vid me family. Momma and Papa alvays vanted to tour Machu Picchu. One day I met Jeremy in da village outside da temple. He vas touring dare, too. Ve started talking and I decided to stay an extra veek after me parents vent home. I vent to dis island vid Jeremy and fell in love vid da place. Beautiful, beautiful island."

"And ever since then," I chimed in, "Kristanna and I have been the best of friends. She has probably been here to see me 40 or 50 times over the past four years."

"That's a lot of airline miles!" Devon squealed. "You said it takes 20 hours just to get here by airplane..."

"What is Machu Picchu?" Camille inquired. "I think I have heard of it before, but don't know exactly what it is."

"It's an ancient city located high in the mountains in Peru," was my response. "It is nothing more than stone ruins now, of course, but it is a national treasure and is protected by the government. But people can visit and take tours. The area around it is very, very beautiful."

"Machu Picchu is vat got me interested in archeology," Kristanna offered. "I study it at university in California."

"You seem to get around," Pamela observed. "This island, Norway, California. You must be a world traveler."

Kristanna laughed. "I have many frequent flyer miles."

"Machu Picchu sounds like an interesting place," Camille mused. "Would it be too much to ask, Jeremy, if you were to take us on a little side-trip to it before the summer ends?"

"Not at all," I answered, shaking my head. "There are many things to see and do in Peru - especially the capital city, Lima. We'll talk about trips in the future."

Lindsay raised her hand and offered me a shy, sheepish expression when I nodded my head at her. Despite losing her virginity just two days ago to Trish and yours truly, it was great to see that Lindsay still retained her humble nature. It was the one thing that I found most appealing about her.

"I was just wondering," Lindsay murmured, "about who will be Kristanna's room-mate? All of us already have room-mates. I can't imagine you letting her stay all by herself. Nor can I imagine Kristanna wanting to stay all by herself..."

"Maybe Jeremy will be her room-mate," Trish speculated. "They did stay together last night, you know."

"Kristanna CANNOT keep Jeremy all to herself," Devon insisted, which made me smile. I liked that attitude. Devon was very intent on getting her fair share of private and intimate time with me. It was flattering to me.

"Actually, to let yew in on a secret," Kristanna cooed, "da idea is for Jeremy to spend da night vid a different girl every night. Like rotation system ... yew know? Den I stay vid room-mate dat is vid Jeremy."

"That sounds really ... interesting," Pamela responded. I got the sense that she did not care for a rotation system.

"I want to stay with Jeremy tonight," Amy claimed, her tone uneven. "I haven't had a cock in what ... a couple of days?" My body shivered with erotic sensations as Amy then added, "I'll explode soon if I don't get some cock."

"A couple of days for you without a cock?" Pamela grinned. "I'm surprised you can last a couple of HOURS without one!"

-------

"Hi Jeremy," Devon greeted me, much later that afternoon, as she approached me here in the hobby room of the estate. Seated in a comfortable lounge chair and glancing through a fitness magazine which I had borrowed from Trish, I looked up at Devon and she smiled at me. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing just fine," I told the radiant 27-year-old from Pennsylvania in a friendly, melodious voice. I tilted my head at Devon and offered her an inquisitive expression before continuing, "What can I do for you, my angel?"

Devon giggled at my choice of words. "Hmmmmm ... angel. You're not going to stop calling me that, huh?"

I shook my head at her. "No, of course not. Why should I? Give me one good reason to stop calling you angel."

"Because I'm the furthest thing from being an angel..."

I shook my head once again and chuckled ever-so-softly. "You know that isn't true, Devon." There was a moment of silence between us until I decided to break it. "Is there something that I can do for you? Is that why you're here?"

Devon displayed another bold move on her part by stepping forward and then plopping herself down upon my trusting lap. Even before my mind could register what had just happened, my hands were resting on either side of Devon's trim waist. It must have been an instinctive reaction for me.

Soon, I made eye contact with this enchanting woman and found myself momentarily gasping for breath. Those blue eyes of hers were sparkling and glittering with an obvious attraction for me as Devon offered a sweet, sincere smile.

Needless to say, Devon looked absolutely sensational. Dressed in a form-fitting blouse which had flower print designs all over it, the intoxicating shape and outline of Devon's full, firm breasts were emphasized to their fullest extent. The little blouse, which ended at her midriff, also did a wonderful job of showcasing Devon's flat stomach.

Plus, Devon wore a sexy pair of hip-hugging denim shorts, as well as pink sneakers and white socks which were rolled down to her ankles. Devon's free-flowing, shiny blonde tresses descended across her slender neck and shoulders in loose, healthy wavelets. This woman was purely captivating!

"Actually, there IS a little something that you could do for me," Devon murmured in a soft, sensuous voice, as she wrapped one arm around my shoulder and squeezed generously. Still nestled upon my lap, Devon then placed her lips close to my ear and cooed, "I was hoping, dear Jeremy, that you and I could spend the night together again."

"Really?" I asked, somewhat surprised.

Devon pulled back and lovingly gazed into my eyes once again. "Most definitely. I had the time of my life with you on Wednesday evening. You made me feel so wonderful." My eyes went wide at that last sentence. "Not only because of how you made my body feel ... but also because of how you made my heart feel. You made me very feel special inside." Devon paused and added, "I ... I haven't felt that way in a long, long time. Like I was ... I was someone special."

"Because your last boyfriend did not treat you with the respect and dignity that you deserve?"

Devon shook her head as if she did not want to answer that particular question. Instead, the goddess told me, "I could not have asked for, or even imagined, a man who treated me any better than you did that particular evening. I ... hmmmmm ... it was like all a dream to me. One big dream."

I choked in response to her preceding comment. "What? Dream? Did you say that it was like a DREAM to you?"

Devon nodded. "Yes, definitely. It was awesome. I want to get to know you, Jeremy. I want you to get to know me. I truly believe that we are a lot alike. A lot more alike than anyone else would ever believe. I know this may sound totally insane since we met a mere five days ago ... but I think there could be something really special between us. I want to explore it. I want the opportunity."

"It doesn't sound insane at all, sweetheart," I countered. "I have those same feelings about you."

"Awesome!" Devon gushed, bouncing about upon my lap in a brief instant of glee. "So it is settled? Can I spend the night with you again? It would make me so very happy."

"It would make me very happy too," I said, before taking a deep breath. "But, remember ... I already promised Amy that she could stay with me in my personal suite tonight." Devon made a face as I went on, "Remember? Amy said that she wanted to spend the night with me at the breakfast table earlier. I said that she could. I cannot go back on my word to Amy, Devon. You know that just as well as I do."

Devon let out an exasperated sigh, but then nodded her head in acceptance. "Yes, I know. I forgot that Amy kind of claimed you already for tonight. That was my mistake." Still sitting in my lap, Devon's posture seemed to sag at the unwanted reminder. "What about tomorrow ... Sunday? Do you think we could spend some time together tomorrow?"

Before I could give her an answer, Devon pressed on by saying, "I don't want it to seem like I am being too pushy or too aggressive with you, Jeremy. It's just ... there are so many other girls here right now, and all of them seem to like you. I just want to be your favorite. I want you to think of me as your favorite. You're my ... my favorite."

"You could never be too pushy or too aggressive with me, dear," I assured her. "Trust me on that. Keep being honest in what you say to me. I love it, Devon. I really do. I have been alone for so long that I welcome a woman who is as open as and as vocal with her feelings like you are. I do."

Devon giggled, then frowned the very next instant. "I have confided a couple of things about what has happened thus far between you and me with Camille. Please don't tell her I told you that." I shook my head, indicating that I would not break Devon's confidence in me. "Camille tells me that I am going too fast with you. I'm speeding with you and in the end, I will crash and burn because of it. She says I am being too open and honest in what I say to you. Even that, what I just said about crashing and burning ... that was incredibly honest. But I can't help it. When I like someone, I feel the need to talk, to be honest. I have been this way my whole life. I'm honest to a fault."

"There is nothing wrong with telling me how you feel ... what you think," I implored. "There are plenty of people throughout the world who, if in my position, would be feel a bit hesitant right now. As you said, you and I have known each other for a short time. Yet you are saying all these personal things to me. That would be too fast for a lot of people. But not me, Devon. Not me at all." She smiled at me as I continued, "I want you to be honest. Pour that loving heart of yours out to me. No matter what you say, you will never scare me, never intimidate me, never spook me. You'll just make me even more interested in you."

"I've done this before," Devon fretted. "Been too open and honest in what I say to people. The first boyfriend I ever had was in high school. His name was Tim. One of the reasons we split up was because I confided in him a little too much. What I said at times, it scared him. We were only 17, but I was already talking about marriage."

"I'm not Tim," was my simple response. "I'm Jeremy. You can say whatever you want to me, Devon. I welcome it. I appreciate it. Don't listen to Camille. She does not know who I am, what I think, what I want. Listen to ME."

"Okay," Devon nodded, now straightening herself up within my lap. "So what do you say, Jeremy? Would you like to get together with me tomorrow? I would love to have some more private time with you. I mean, if you're interested..."

I laughed at her. "Of course I am interested, Devon. The answer is yes." Suddenly, Devon appeared genuinely happy. "Yes, we can plan something for tomorrow."

"What are you doing after dinner tonight?" she wondered. "Before Amy comes to visit you?"

"Kristanna and I are going to do some more catching up with each other in my suite," I answered. "You know, she and I are such good friends, but I haven't seen her in three whole weeks. In many ways, Kristanna is like a confidant to me. A lifeline, if you will."

"I can tell just by being around Kristanna yesterday and today that she cares about you very, very much," Devon said. "But the two of you claim to be nothing more than friends."

"Best friends," I corrected her. "You are more than welcome to meet up with us in my personal suite after I clear the dinner table and wash the dishes, Devon. I can guarantee you that Kristanna would love your company."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Devon crinkled her nose and shook her head in response. "No, that's okay. Kristanna probably wants that time alone with you as well. As you said, Jeremy, you and her have a lot of catching up to do. Just promise me that we can spend some time together tomorrow, and I will be happy."

"If you don't see me anywhere, I'll probably be in my room," I advised her. "Come find me tomorrow afternoon. How does noon sound? That time will be reserved for you."

Devon squirmed about within my lap for a moment or two, but then offered that glittering smile and found my lips with her own for a soft, sensuous kiss. Not only was our kiss slow and languid, but it also lasted for several seconds. Devon seemed reluctant once she finally broke it.

"Excuse me, Jeremy," came a tender, squealy voice from the opposite side of the hobby room. Devon and I quickly turned our sights toward the source of that voice, which was none other than Lindsay. The wholesome 18-year-old was standing at the entranceway to the hobby room, waving her right hand with quite the apprehensive expression on her face. "I hope that I am not interrupting anything, but..."

Devon, whose lips were no more than three inches from my cheek, took a deep breath and stood up, then backed away from me. Next, she again focused on Lindsay. "You could never interrupt us, honey," Devon told her. "What's up?"

Lindsay flashed Devon that shy, humble smile of hers. What a doll! "I was going to ask Jeremy for a favor."

"Oh?" I inquired. "What would that be, dear?"

Lindsay looked over at me and smiled yet again. "Trish and I are having problems beating one of the big bosses in Buffy the Vampire Slayer for X-Box. We have tried and tried, but cannot get past that level. Trish told me to find you, Jeremy, and ask if maybe you could help us out. You said the other day that you already beat the game."

"I beat the game twice," I corrected her. "I haven't played that particular game in a very long time, though."

Devon rolled her eyes and let out an exaggerated laugh. "Ughhhhh ... video games. Not my cup of tea."

"It's the part of the game where you play as Faith," Lindsay explained. "We cannot get past the final boss!"

"It took me awhile to get past that part too," I mused. "But I eventually made it through. I'll see what I can do for you and Trish, Lindsay. How does that sound?"

"Great!" she chirped. "We really need the help!"

I glanced over at Devon. "Is it okay with you if I go and give them a hand right now? I know that we were having a nice discussion and all..."

"It's fine," Devon mused, grinning at me for emphasis. "I promised Camille earlier that I would go on a walk with her before dinner tonight." Devon looked at her wristwatch and added, "I'm supposed to meet her in ten minutes." As I stood up from the chair, Devon stepped forward and kissed me on the cheek. "I guess I'll see you at dinner-time, Jeremy. Have a good time playing video games."

"You have a good time with Camille. I enjoyed talking with you. Hopefully we can do it again sometime."

"Sometime SOON," Devon insisted, before turning and facing Lindsay. "Will you take good care of Jeremy for me, honey? You're not going to wear him out, now ... are you?"

"Wear him out?" Lindsay giggled, her cheeks flushing a bright, crimson red. This teen-ager's humble innocence and naive nature were two of her most appealing traits - if you ask me, at least. I absolutely loved to see Lindsay blush! "I just want Jeremy to help me and Trish with Buffy!"

"Can I get a kiss before I leave?" Devon inquired, to which Lindsay's eyebrows shot upward.

Just 48 hours removed from losing her virginity, I believe it is safe of me to assume that the only individuals on the island that Lindsay had kissed thus far were Trish and yours truly. Was she ready to take that step with someone else? Was Lindsay prepared to open herself up to the others, too?

Perhaps realizing that she had caught Lindsay off-guard with her bold request, Devon backed off by saying, "Oh ... you don't have to kiss me if you don't want to, honey. I shouldn't have said something like that to you. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," Lindsay murmured. She took a very deep breath, as if to collect her courage, then stepped forward and planted a simple kiss onto Devon's luscious mouth. When it was over, Lindsay slowly backed away and, not surprisingly, was blushing beet-red once again.

Devon moaned and smiled at her young friend. "Hmmmmm ... that was nice. Thank you, honey. Thank you very much. I hope there is more of where that came from in the future. Much more." As Lindsay blushed yet again, Devon grinned and waved her hand at me, then turned and exited the hobby room. She was off to find Camille for their pre-dinner stroll.

"Hi sweetheart," I said to Lindsay, closing the distance between us and then giving her a warm embrace. "How is the prettiest 18-year-old girl in all of the world doing today?"

"The prettiest?" she exclaimed, blushing one more time, as our embrace ended. "Do you really mean that?"

"Find me an 18-year-old girl who looks better than you," I challenged her. "You will look your whole life, because you'll never find one. I promise you that." I snuck one arm around Lindsay's firm, slender body, then moved my hand downward and patted that nice, tight ass. Much like Devon, Lindsay had on a pair of denim shorts. She had perhaps the sexiest ass I had ever laid my eyes on. "Such a doll..."

Lindsay closed her eyes for a moment and groaned. "Oh my stars ... I love how your hands feel on me, Jeremy." Suffice it to say, but Lindsay was much more comfortable around me (as well as Trish) than she was anyone else at this point in time. Why? Simply because Lindsay had experienced the joys of sex with Trish and yours truly. As far as I was aware of, at least, we were the only ones - yet.

When I felt a big erection forming within my shorts, I quickly reminded myself of why Lindsay had sought me out on this late-day afternoon. Before I lost control of myself - which seemed like a real possibility with Lindsay looking so very desirable in front of me right now - I remembered that she had come to me with a request. And, most likely, Trish was waiting for us, too. It was time to fulfill it.

"Let's go off to the recreation room and conquer that level in the Buffy game," I said, but only after clearing my throat. Still, my cock was hard - and throbbing. I wanted to get my clutches into this wondrous, lovely girl and never let her go. She was a living, breathing aphrodisiac to me.

"Trish also wanted me to ask you to bring that fitness magazine you borrowed from her along," Lindsay commented. "Apparently, Trish is not yet finished reading it herself."

I gathered the aforementioned magazine from the nearby table and held it up for Lindsay to see. "Off to the recreation room we go, dear. You lead the way."

When Lindsay nodded her head and turned to walk away, I smiled inwardly. I was going to keep my eyes glued to that tight, little ass of hers until we reached the elevator on the opposite side of the mansion. Certainly, the scenery during this upcoming walk was going to be most lovely.

And when we stepped into the elevator, I would make sure that my curious hands would be all over that precious ass...

-------

"Yew verr really gentle and loving vid her," Kristanna commented to me, perhaps two hours later, as we relaxed in the voyeur room together. She and I were watching footage from Thursday night on the monitor in front of us - when Trish and I took Lindsay's virginity. "Lindsay is such a sveet ding. It must have been special for yew too, Jeremy."

"It was very special," I countered, feeling uncomfortable because I had another erection hidden away in my trousers. Watching my red-hot encounter with Lindsay and Trish did the trick. The thought then crossed my mind that my cock needed some attention. Maybe Kristanna could help me out?

"It vas also very exciting too, I see," the 23-year-old giggled, motioning toward my crotch with her head.

On the monitor in front of us, Trish literally begged me to allow her to help place my cock into Lindsay's pussy. When I agreed, Trish was all happy and smiles, and soon did the deed. Kristanna watched intently as I eased my shaft into Lindsay - who was still a virgin at the time - before I began to gently pump and thrust away at her.

"Oh my..." was Kristanna's reaction to the footage, even running a hand over and across one of her taut, firm breasts. Kristanna focused upon one of her breasts and began to knead it through the silky blouse that she had on.

When I was going full-throttle at Lindsay on the screen, Kristanna turned her head and smiled up at me. "I vish yew vould have been da one to take me virginity too, Jeremy!" Although she was being honest and forthright, I could not help but to chuckle at Kristanna's broken English. I cannot emphasize just how much I enjoyed listening to that accent!

Kristanna then pointed at the image of young Lindsay and rightfully said, "Dat girl is having da time of her life!"

"What do you think, Krissy? I know you have been here less than 24 hours, but what do you think? If you were in my shoes and had to make a decision, who would you pick? Which girl do you think is best for me?"

"I dink yew could not go vrong with Devon, Pamela or Trish," she answered. "I like all of dem a lot. I like Devon da most, dough. But I see vy yew like Trish too, Jeremy. Yew said earlier dat she is yewr number-one now. But yew said Pamela is attracted to yew, too." Kristanna smiled and patted me on the shoulder. "Yew have a lot of difficult decisions to make, Mister Jeremy."

"What about the others?"

"Amy come from broken marriage and admit dat she cheat on her husband many times in da first year of marriage. She vas telling Devon and me all about it after breakfast earlier. Den she got back togedder vid her husband, but cheat on him again." Kristanna vigorously shook her head and surmised, "Yew do not vant voman like dat to be yewr vife, Jeremy. It almost seem like Amy vas bragging about all dat cheating."

I frowned and shrugged my shoulders. "I do not think Amy was ever happy with her husband. That is why she cheated on him. Personally speaking, I think Amy got married way before she was ready. If she could find someone who made her happy, I think Amy would settle down and be a good wife."

"I am not telling yew how to live yewr life, Jeremy," Kristanna advised me. "Yew did ask for me opinion. Dat is vat I am giving here. But I hope yew are not entertaining doughts of Amy. She is da one girl here voo has da highest probability of breaking yewr heart. Trust me on dat, ya. Yew could not stand anudder voman breaking yewr heart again."

"It's not that I'm thinking of Amy as a possible choice right now," I countered. "It's just ... I like to look for the good in everyone." Kristanna nodded her head as I went on, "It just seems to me that if Amy found the right person, it would change her life completely. Her ways, her attitude. Everything. I think she would settle down and be faithful."

"Dat is only ding I do not agree vid," Kristanna mused. "I dink Amy is a nymphomaniac voo cannot be corralled. I am not saying dat is bad ding. I yust dink dat yew do not vant to have dat type of voman as yewr vife, Jeremy. As yewr playding or one-night stand, yes, but not yewr vife." The 23-year-old from Norway paused for a moment, but then added, "I dink I have Amy figured out. I dink I do. Da reality is dat Amy is a little girl trying to play big girl games."

"A little girl trying to play big girl games?" I had no clue where Kristanna was headed with this analogy. "Do you mind explaining what you mean by it?"

"Amy be so caught up in da appearance of control - she claims she vants to take little Lindsay and do all dese nasty dings to her. She says she vants to violate her. I do not dink so. All Amy really vants in life, dis be my opinion, is to curl up in someone's arms, and be protected or even dominated herself. She may envision dat vid yew, Jeremy."

"Then why does she act dominant and harsh at times?"

"Simple," Kristanna said. "Cannot yew see how lonely and depressed Amy is in life? Yust look at her actions dus far. Amy screams and begs for attention at all times. As long as someone is villing to give Amy a reaction - any reaction - she will adapt her vays to suit dem or da situation on a moment's notice. Under all of dat, dough, is a little, timid submissive girl. I can see it." Kristanna nodded her head and continued, "If yew asserted yewrself vid her, Jeremy ... I mean REALLY asserted yewrself, Amy vould melt in yewr arms yust like butter. Being dominant not in yew, dough."

"What about Lindsay and Camille, dear?" I wondered. "You said I could not go wrong with Devon, Pamela or Trish. We've talked about Amy. What about Lindsay and Camille?"

"Camille is easy," Kristanna said. "Dis is yewr sixth day vid all da girls, and Camille is only one voo has not made move on yew yet. Yew have to start vundering if da girl is interested in yew, Jeremy. Yew did tell me a vile ago dat Camille made move on Lindsay, Trish, Devon and Amy so far ... but not yew. Plus she does not trust yew, yew said." Kristanna giggled and added, "She be afraid dat yew run ... slave camp. I could see yew as dominant Master, Jeremy." Kristanna laughed again. "Dat vould be sight to see!"

I smiled at her words. "What about Lindsay?"

"Lindsay is VAY too young for yew."

This time, Kristanna's words made me frown. Three or four years ago, I would have strongly disputed the notion that there was that much of a discrepancy in age between myself and an 18-year-old. But now, at the creaky age of 38, I had finally accepted the fact that I could be considered too old for certain individuals. I tried not to think about it too much, obviously, because it was so depressing. But the simple truth? I was more than twice Lindsay's age. I was old enough to be her father.

"She yust lost her virginity two nights ago," Kristanna added. "She is pretty, pretty girl. After her time here on island ends, Lindsay vill vant to go back home and experience vat udders have to offer her. Guys, girls. She is yust a baby, Jeremy. Yew vant to get married right now in life. Lindsay vant to go out and have fun. Yew and Trish opened new door for her yust da udder night. Let her explore it." Kristanna pointed toward my crotch and cooed, "Dis part of yew vants to dink of Lindsay as possible vife. Vat yew did vid her Dursday night vas so exciting." Next, she pointed at my head. "But dis part know better. Dink about it."

"Dursday?" I laughed. Kristanna was priceless! "I had a real good time with Lindsay and Trish in the recreation room earlier. I gave them some hints and advice about how to get through Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Chaos Bleeds. It took a little while, but they finally beat the whole game."

"Yew did not help dem by playing yewrself?"

I shook my head and responded, "No, I thought it would be better if they beat the game themselves instead of me. As I said, I simply gave them advice and pointers on what to do."

"Dat game is eight or nine years old, no?"

"Something like that," I nodded. "Oldie, but a goodie."

"Yew are oldie, but goodie too."

"Gee, thanks Krissy," I sarcastically grinned.

Glancing at the monitor in front of us, Kristanna watched for a couple of seconds as Lindsay's blonde head bobbed up-and-down over my shaft, while Trish was nestled beneath her, licking that sweet, delicious pussy.

"Do yew get yewr cock in Trish sometime during dis?"

"Eventually, yes," I nodded. "Trish goes oral on Lindsay while I do her from behind, doggie-style."

"Trish is da confident and cheerful fitness instructor," Kristanna observed. "I get feeling from talking to her dat she has to be da best in everyding dat she do. Pamela is da vayvard stripper voo lost her grasp on reality many several years ago." My eyes narrowed because of that last comment as she continued, "And Devon is sveet, innocent girl voo is looking for love. Her life is not complete vidout it. Yew cannot go vrong vid any of dem, Jeremy."

I have always considered Kristanna to be one of the most intuitive people I have ever known. She is an excellent judge of character. But her words about Pamela disturbed me. Once again, I needed a clarification on what she meant.

"Wayward stripper who lost her grasp on reality?"

"Yew ask me opinion, I give it to yew," Kristanna reminded me. "I am not saying anyding bad about Pamela. I like her a lot. But her senses have been dulled and yaded. Da computer program ve vrite togedder predicted Pamela vould be dis vay. I have seen nudding to change me opinion duss far."

"What do you base your opinion on?"

"A voman DAT hot and beautiful has sex vid yew, Jeremy, and says yew are first man for her in over a year. Yew are first PERSON for her in eight months, only excluding da day before ven she vas vid Amy. Vat is vrong vid dat picture? Pamela obviously vants to fall in love and get married. But me dinks dat being stripper has ruined da vay she perceives how udders are looking at her. Dare are many men, and vomen, voo vould die for a chance to be vid a voman dat smart and beautiful. But Pamela cannot see dat. She cannot infer it. Vat she sees is everyone looking at her as sex object. It is vat she is accustomed to in life."

When I did not respond for several seconds, Kristanna added, "I have a friend in Hermansvark, vitch is city in Norvay, voo is stripper. Her name be Ragnhild. I compare her to Pamela because I see many similarities betveen dem. Ragnhild has stripped for so long, and exposed herself to so many strangers, dat she does not trust anyone anymore. She is blind even to dose people voo are good to her. Vy ... Ragnhild does not even trust ME, if yew can believe dat."

"Pamela trusts me," I countered.

"Pamela trusts yew because yew are incredibly kind and humble person," Kristanna mused. "Yew radder sit down and talk vid a hot voman for hours at a time instead of having sex vid her. No one else in da vorld is like dat. I dink Pamela may look at yew, Jeremy, as her last, best chance at happiness. Dat is vy she has clutched onto yew so hard and heavy so far. Dat me opinion. I am not saying dat Pamela is not da right girl for yew. In fact, yew and her are a lot alike. Yew match up very vell."

"In what way?"

"Yew are male version of Pamela, but for many different reasons," she said. "Yew lost yewr grasp on reality long ago, Jeremy, because of vat Victoria did to yew." I gulped my throat as Kristanna continued, "Dare is reason vy most of dese girls love yew. But yew cannot see it, eedder."

"I'm a lot better than I used to be," I defended myself.

"Yes, yew are," Kristanna nodded. "Yew most definitely are. But yew still have a long vays to go. Yew hot, sexy man. But yew see yewrself as ordinary, plain man."

"Hot ... and sexy?"

Kristanna laughed at my response. "See vat I mean? Yew hot and sexy. Yew incredibly kind and gracious. Yew vould give shirt off yewr back to anyone dat needed it. Yew are most caring man ... PERSON, I have ever met. And yew are humble, and very loyal. Every voman dreams of marrying a man like yew, Jeremy. Yew yust cannot see dat."

"What Victoria did to me, Krissy, it sh-shattered me..."

"Victoria vas 18 long years ago in yewr life!" Kristanna exclaimed. "I know it hurt, Jeremy! I know vat she did vas totally humiliating to yew! But yew HAVE to move on! Dink how long 18 years is ... I vas five summers old den. Only five! I vas tiny girl playing on me farm vid da goats and da cows. Yew have let Victoria rule and effect yewr life for much too long. Yew live all alone on dis island for 16 years, shielded from da rest of humanity. Scared to death dat someone may hurt yew like Victoria once did! But during all dat time, life passes yew by. ALL DOSE YEARS! Yew could have met a Devon a long time ago, Jeremy. A Pamela, a Trish. Yew vould be so happy now. Yew vould have a vife, children, a family. But yew choose to stay all alone on dis island. I have never really fully understood vy yew do dis."

When I hung my head low and took a deep, painful breath, Kristanna sprung up from her chair here in the voyeur room and embraced me with both arms. She rubbed her hands over and across my shoulders several times in succession, then kissed the crown of my head. "I do not mean to hurt yew, Mister Jeremy. Yew know yew are vunderful man in me eyes. Vunderful man, vunderful friend. I yust do not like to see yew vaste avay on dis island like yew have."

I sighed, then nodded my head, trying to hold back a rush of tears. "I'm glad you convinced me, Krissy, to bring all these women here. I really am. This is going to work. All the time and trouble we went through, all the money this is costing me. If I find happiness, it will all be worth it."

"Da money is drop in da bucket to yew," Kristanna grinned, releasing me from her loving arms. "Yew can afford to lose a few million American dollars." She kissed me on the lips and cooed, "It vill be good for yew."

"Since when is losing money good?"

"Look at vat yew are gaining, dough," Kristanna smiled, embracing me again. "I yust vant yew to be happy, Jeremy. As long as yew are happy, Kristanna is happy, ya."

On the display monitor now, there was the image of me blasting Trish from behind in the doggie-style position as she busily slurped and lapped away at Lindsay's pussy. Because the three of us were making a lot of noise with our collective screams and grunts, Kristanna turned and eyed the action. "Yew sure did have a lot of fun dat night!"

"More fun than you would ever imagine..."

Kristanna grinned once again. "Seems to me dat Devon really, really like yew, Jeremy. But I like Devon too! Vat do yew dink me chances are of getting up-close and personal vid her? I am not talking yust about sex, eeder. I dink she is really sveet girl, and I vant to get to know her."

"Talk to her," was my advice. "If there is one thing that I know about Devon thus far, it is that she wants a very open and honest relationship. Tell Devon that you like her, want to get to know her. Don't be afraid to hold back with her, either. I think Devon is a lot like me that way, Kristanna. She wants others to give her positive re-enforcement. She will eat up any and all compliments that you give her."

Kristanna giggled. "Hopefully she eat udder dings, too."

Suddenly, another monitor flickered to life here in the voyeur room. The motion detector at the far end of the hall which led to my personal suite picked something up, and those images were now being relayed to the equipment here in the voyeur room. Curious as to who it may be, Kristanna and I both glanced at the monitor intently.

"Looks like Pamela and Amy vant to talk to yew, Jeremy," she observed. "Judging by dare choice of clodding, dough - or lack dareof - I do not dink dey vant to talk for long." I gulped my throat at the wondrous sight upon the monitor in front of us as Kristanna added, "I vill stay here - in voyeur room. I vant to catch up on some of da udder events dat I missed dis past veek. I vill look into da archives."

"Are you sure you want to stay here?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "Go and be vid Pamela and Amy. Yew promised da night to Amy earlier. But ... yew supposed to be vatching hockey with Trish tonight." Kristanna pointed to the monitor that oversaw a live feed of the recreation room. In it, Trish was seated at one of the computer terminals watching an Internet broadcast of game two of the Stanley Cup Finals between the Los Angeles Kings and New Jersey Devils. Aptly enough, Trish had on a Toronto Maple Leafs' jersey. She was quite the fanatic when it came to the Maple Leafs. "Yew and Trish planned on vatching dat game tonight, no?"

"It was gonna be tonight, but we decided a couple of hours ago that we would watch the game on Monday night instead," I told her. "Lindsay is even going to watch it with us. Trish knew that Amy was itching to be with me tonight."

"Amy be itching to be vid yew in more vays dan one."

-------

After giving Kristanna a full kiss on the lips, I exited the voyeur room and closed off its entrance. I took a long, deep breath, knowing what was soon in store for me, then went over to the door and opened it.

Standing on the opposite side of the doorway were the duo of Pamela and Amy, both of whom were looking back at me with expression of pure lust and desire on their beautiful faces. Indeed, I knew exactly what was about to happen.

Pamela, the incredibly stacked blonde from Maryland who had swung back-and-forth like a pendulum in being (or not being) my favorite thus far, was wearing a skintight halter top which hugged and clutched her formidable breasts in a truly intoxicating manner. I could clearly see her nipples through the thin fabric, so it was quite obvious that she was not wearing a bra underneath it. The only other thing Pamela had on was a purple G-string. What an inspirational, mouth-watering and simply awe-inspiring body this woman had.

Amy, on the other hand, was wearing a see-through nightie (with no bra or panties underneath). The mere sight of her in the flimsy piece of lingerie caused my cock to ache in total arousal. She obviously had no shame.

"Can we come in for a bit?" was Amy's question. I could tell by the naughty look on her face that she and Pamela did not come up here to borrow some sugar. Nor did they want to sit down and have a heart-to-heart discussion for two hours.

"Step on in, girls," I said in a friendly tone, thinking to myself what Kristanna was up to in the adjacent voyeur room right now. She was going to get a quite a spicy, live show here in another minute or two...

The two ravishing ladies strolled into my suite and first looked around it, then turned their attention toward me as I closed the door. I then remembered a few nights ago - before my bicycle ride with Devon turned into something erotic - I wanted to have a three-some with Pamela and Amy. Now, it seemed as if my fantasy would become a reality.

"Is it okay if we show up unannounced like this?"

"Of course it is," I told Pamela in response. "Feel free to stop by at any time ... especially if you two ladies choose to dress like this. I would have no objections."

The girls looked at each other and giggled. Now, both of them knew they had me right where they wanted me - as if they did not know that before. I was theirs for the taking...

Pamela spoke in a sultry voice, "Jeremy, the whole island is buzzing with the news of what happened on Thursday night between you, Lindsay and Trish. Not only did you get to take Lindsay's virginity, but Trish was there too, and she made it a three-some. Amy was going to spend tonight with you alone, as she asked for earlier today. But now she says that since we're all such good friends, maybe you would like to have a three-some with us as well. So ... let's have one."

"Right now," Amy concurred.

Direct, blunt ... to the point. I liked that. Was it any surprise that my cock was about to burst from being so hard?

The ladies did not wait for my verbal response. Instead, they closed the distance between them and me, and literally attached our three bodies together as one. Pamela's arms were around my shoulders, squeezing hard, as she ravaged my mouth with a heated, tongue-filled kiss. Amy wrapped one arm around my lower back and the other around Pamela's slender waist, then started to plant kisses along my face and neck.

Needless to say, I was disoriented for a moment. Two gorgeous women basically having their way with me at the same time was a very unique and scintillating experience. It was certainly not an everyday occurrence in my life.

I then realized that from this point forward, because of the island and its nature, this may very well be a common thing for me. The ladies may expect to share me in group sex settings from now on. Maybe nothing I experience would be one-on-one again. A three-some with Devon and Kristanna in the morning? Maybe another with Trish and Lindsay a few hours later? Or, perhaps all seven of them would want me at once in a big, full-blown orgy? I was just one man, mind you. How was I going to survive the next five weeks?

I quickly regained my composure and returned Pamela's kiss with all of the fervor and passion that she was exerting on me herself. Meanwhile, I felt Amy grab my left hand and place it on Pamela's sweet, perfectly-proportioned backside. Amy kneaded the back of my hand for a brief moment, which told me that she wanted me to pinch and squeeze Pamela's ass. When I started doing so, Amy giggled and let go of my hand.

I used my other hand to reach around Amy's body and grab hold of her round ass, too. Now, I was fondling both ladies as they continued to assault my neck, face and mouth with their splendid barrage of nibbles, licks and kisses.

The exchange of tongues between Pamela and I had become rather intense in a very short period of time. Amy, who had been munching on my neck and face, suddenly decided to enter herself into the kiss that Pamela and I shared. She moved her lips in close to ours and seconds later, I had the tongues of two gorgeous women in my mouth at the same time.

Although our heads were all cramped together as one, the triple-kiss lasted for several seconds. Soon, however, we found a more comfortable position and began to play the wonderful game of tongue tag in the open air. At the same time, Amy reached down and rubbed the bulge in my trousers as I continued to squeeze both her and Pamela's sweet asses.

"You two girls are incredible," I moaned, trying to catch my breath. "Simply incredible!"

Pamela and Amy giggled at my words, then focused their attention on each other for a short time, first attaching their lips together, then licking and slurping away with their tongues. Seconds later, they broke the kiss and gazed at me, giggling with an obvious sense of arousal.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" Amy said, now looking at her sweet girlfriend and pecking her on the cheek. "Simply gorgeous." Pamela smiled and snickered at those words. I could tell that even though they had been together a very short time, these two ladies already had something special together.

"Amy's my little fireball," Pamela chirped, kissing her lover's cheek in return. Fireball, I assume, referred to Amy's flame-red hair. What else could it mean? "My wild, little, cock- and pussy-hungry fireball."

Amy was still massaging my erection through the trousers I wore. Pamela noticed this and decided to join in on the fun. As Amy rubbed away on my hard cock through the fabric, Pamela dropped to her knees and undid my trousers, then yanked them downward in a flash. She took off my shoes and had me step out of my trousers, then pulled my briefs down and tossed them off to the side as well.

"A big, hard cock can only mean good things," Pamela observed with a grin. "Hmmmmm ... my night-time snack!"

My body tensed with hot desire as Amy now latched onto the base of my shaft, as well as my testicles, and squeezed. I looked at her with a dazed expression, which brought a smile to her lovely face. Her hand was very skilled...

"Do you like that?"

"Yes, Miss Amy," I moaned. "I like that a LOT."

The excitement level within me increased tenfold when I felt a pair of lips wrap themselves around the head of my cock. I looked down and noticed that Pamela, still on her knees, had done me the honor. She stared back up at me, a carnal grin on her face, as she sucked and slurped the head of my shaft with those soft, luscious lips. At the same time, Amy was busy pumping and frigging the base of my cock. However, all of my attention was currently focused on Pamela.

I could forever watch the blonde and bodacious 30-year-old service my cock on her knees, and never lose interest. I was intent to do so, too, until Amy used her free hand to cup my chin, and turn my gaze toward her. A split-second later, she attached her mouth to mine for a heated kiss. We traded both our lips and tongues while out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pamela still looking up at me as she sucked my cock. Her luminous brown eyes, in fact, were trained on my face.

My right hand had never left Amy's sweet, beautiful ass. I had been groping and massaging it thoroughly for several seconds, but was soon joined by one of Pamela's hands as well. She reached up and gently touched my arm, then sunk her fingers into the lush skin of Amy's backside too.

Disappointment washed over me as the seductress suddenly broke our kiss, out of nowhere. However, my feelings soon changed to unspeakable desire as Amy dropped to her knees right alongside Pamela. Still grasping the base of my cock with her hand, Amy watched with interest as Pamela continued to provide me with her own, special brand of oral worship.

I tossed my head back and sighed in utter lust as Amy swiped her tongue over and across my very delicate, aching testicles. I looked back down and noticed that the two ladies, both on their knees side-by-side in front of my erect cock, were now looking at each other. It almost appeared as if they were communicating with their eyes.

Perhaps they were, because Pamela withdrew my cock from her mouth and offered her lover a sweet smile. Amy returned it, then she swallowed my shaft in one, easy motion.

I almost lost control of myself right there, but was able to somehow keep my composure. Amy wasted no time as she began to furiously suck my cock right away. I watched in amazement as Pamela splayed a series of kisses alongside Amy's face, while still cupping and massaging her ass with one hand. "Such a pretty thing," Pamela commented, clearly referring to her room-mate while kissing her.

The red-head, or fireball as Pamela so affectionately called her, continued forth with her oral assault on my cock for several seconds until coming to an abrupt halt.

Amy withdrew my big erection from within her mouth, which made me wonder if something was wrong. Why stop such a great blowjob, so sudden? It made no sense to me. Everything was perfectly fine, though - as I soon would find out.

Amy offered my shaft back to Pamela, who greedily stuffed its full length back into her mouth. The two ladies were taking equal turns, sucking my erection! Wow!

Pamela's head bobbed back-and-forth on my enlarged shaft as I continued to moan and sigh in pure lust. Meanwhile, Amy was keeping herself busy as she busily groped and squeezed one of Pamela's full, luscious breasts through the incredibly tight halter top that she wore. Again, what a body Pamela had! No wonder she had $600,000 saved in the bank from 11 years of working as an exotic dancer...

I could feel my cock lodged somewhere deep within Pamela's throat once she had taken its full length into her mouth. I growled at the sensation, looking down and noticing that her mouth and nose were jammed against my pubic hair. I reached out and caressed her head, running my fingers throughout her long-flowing blonde hair. Pamela looked up at me, then took my cock out of her mouth and offered it back to Amy.

Shaking my head, I moaned once again as Amy jammed my erection back into her hungry mouth. The young woman emulated her room-mate by bobbing her head back-and-forth on my throbbing cock. I could feel her tongue, inside of her mouth, slipping and sliding like crazy over my shaft.

This type of encounter was something most men could only fantasize about experiencing. I consider myself just your typical, average guy ... and definitely never dreamed that I would be involved in a three-some such as this one day. I was with two of the most beautiful women I had ever known in my whole, entire life, and both of them were starved for my erection. Absolutely STARVED! It was totally unbelievable!

My shaft was close to an explosion as Pamela nuzzled her nose against my pubic hair, then used her tongue to swipe and lick my testicles. This was incredible to experience! One gorgeous woman was sucking my cock while another was licking my testicles. Both of them, of course, were in very submissive positions - on their knees in front of me.

At least for now, though, I was far from the one in control. Pamela and Amy were in control at this moment in time. I was their submissive! As you may have guessed, I had no problem with that - considering what was happening.

Amy took my member out of her mouth, then fisted its base once again. She began to lick and kiss its tip while Pamela moved her attention from my testicles to the middle of my cock. She used her lips to gently suck its diameter from the side while Amy continued to pump and frig the base, all the while kissing and licking its bulging tip.

The sensation of what basically amounted to a dual blowjob by two luscious women was about to send me over the edge of madness. I was very close to an orgasm, but felt as if I could hold out for another half-minute or so. After all, I wanted to prolong this feeling of pure, unequaled ecstasy. This was the most stimulation that I had ever felt, bar none!

However, I suddenly erupted like a volcano when Pamela and Amy exchanged tongues with my erection firmly wedged between their lips. The first shot of sperm blasted out from within my shaft and landed squarely on Pamela's shoulder.

Both ladies quickly moved so their beautiful faces were directly in line with my cock. I looked down and let out a wild groan as Pamela and Amy had their mouths wide open, their tongues extended, their eyes locked on my face.

The second spurt hit Amy on the tip of her nose and her upper lip. A big glob dripped down and fell onto her tongue, which obviously made her very happy. My third cum-shot was aimed directly at Pamela's wide-open mouth. A huge blast was directly deposited onto her tongue ... and quickly swallowed down her hungry, greedy throat.

Both girls grasped my cock and began to pump it, wanting more sperm. They put their tongues together - and that was enough incentive for me to produce one final shot. Half of it landed in Amy's mouth while the other half went to Pamela. What better way to punctuate such an intense double blowjob?

I took a deep breath and collapsed into a seated position upon the bed behind me. Both women knew that for the time being, my proverbial well had run dry. I was tapped out.

I would need some time to rest and recover, of course, but that did not stop Pamela and Amy from enjoying the company of each other. The pair of lust queens looked at one another and smiled, then shared a sperm-filled kiss.

I moaned at the sight of Pamela and Amy as they clutched each other in a warm, passionate embrace. I watched as the two ladies squished their breasts together tightly, their lips locked, their tongues dancing. I could not help but to grasp my deflated cock, and start pumping.

Amy slipped a hand between their pressed bodies, then started fondling Pamela's large breasts through the small, snug-fitting halter top she wore. The pair of lovers broke their kiss for a moment, and used the opportunity to catch their collective breaths. Seconds later, however, the two hellcats were engaged in another heated lip-lock.

It did not last long, though. Amy broke the kiss and immediately pulled Pamela's top up, and over, her head. The stacked blonde, as I noticed earlier, was not wearing a bra. Her big, heavy-set breasts came into view - which brought an aching twinge to my cock. Amy reached out with both hands to fondle and squeeze Pamela's heavenly rack.

The red-head looked back at me and smiled at the sight of me pumping myself toward an erection. She licked her lips for a moment, then grinned and asked me, "Isn't this girl gorgeous?" She was referring to Pamela, of course. "Look at those breasts ... no wonder she's a stripper! Those are what you call God-given sweater busters!"

"Absolutely," I agreed, watching the pleasure-filled expression on Pamela's immaculate face. It seemed as if she truly enjoyed having her breasts touched and groped. I would have to remember that for future reference...

Pamela focused her attention on me long enough to notice that I was busy masturbating to the sight of her and Amy together. She motioned toward me with her head, then turned and grinned playfully at Amy.

"I love it when guys whack off for me," Amy commented, her green eyes flashing. "It turns me on SO MUCH..."

I stroked myself at an even faster pace as Amy pulled her lover down to the floor with her, while disposing of her G-string panties at the same time. The two ladies took a seat and embraced quickly, their lips finding each other for yet another tongue-filled kiss. When it ended a short time later, Pamela used the opportunity to pull Amy's see-through nightie up, and over, her head. She tossed it to the side, leaving Amy completely, gloriously nude.

Realizing that the only one remaining in the room who even had a single piece of clothing on was yours truly, I decided to remedy the situation. I discarded my muscle shirt and began stroking my shaft again, while focusing all of my attention on the two angels making out in front of me.

Pamela tilted her head and attached her lips to one of Amy's nipples, then began sucking away. The vixen tossed her head back and sighed in obvious pleasure. I watched with interested eyes as Pamela slurped and licked away on Amy's delicate, sensitive nipple. She soon switched over to the other breast and gave it the same type of oral treatment.

"Oh yeah," Amy moaned, cradling Pamela's head with her hands. "Yeah ... that's what I like. Suck my breasts. Suck on them, baby. Get me all hot and bothered. Suck them."

Obviously, Pamela had no problem following through with the nymphomaniac's request. She continued to feast away on Amy's rigid nipples, alternating between each of them every 15 seconds or so. Eventually, Pamela slipped a hand between Amy's spread thighs, then used two fingers to prod and massage her swollen clitoris. Next, she extended her tongue and lapped away madly on Amy's deepened cleavage.

"What a perv..." Amy snickered, looking at me. "Watching us have sex while you whack off." She shook her head and grinned, "I like it, though. I like it a lot."

Pamela glanced at me for an instant, then looked back at her girlfriend. "Don't you know what Jeremy is doing? He's getting his cock hard again so he can fuck both of us."

"He doesn't need his hand for that," Amy remarked in a matter-of-fact way. "My hand could do that, or my mouth. Get him hard, you know."

Pamela smiled and said, "Why don't you go over and suck his cock while I lick your pussy?"

I almost blew another load right there...

Amy grinned and rose to her knees, then made her way over to where I was seated on the edge of the bed. She spread her knees on the floor, grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away from my erection. Seconds later, it was better replaced by her own hand as she began pumping me furiously.

Meanwhile, I watched Pamela as she brought a hand to her mouth and licked its palm thoroughly. Next, she laid down on the floor and rolled onto her back. I smiled to myself when she scooted along the floor until her head was directly between her girlfriend's spread-open thighs.

"Lick my pussy, baby," Amy said to Pamela, just before she closed her thick, pouty lips over my pulsating cock.

Amy's green eyes were alive with desire as she looked up at me from her knees, her lips and mouth busy savoring the taste and feel of my erection. At the same time, I could look down and watch as Pamela - flat on her back with her face between Amy's spread knees - started to go to work on the 30-year-old's beautiful, wondrous pussy.

Moaning with hot desire, I reached down with both hands and grasped Amy's head as she continued to feverishly suck and slurp away on my erection. The seductress bobbed her head back-and-forth at a blistering pace, while constantly looking directly up and into my eyes.

Meanwhile, Pamela was thrusting two fingers in-and-out of Amy's pussy as she continually lapped away with her tongue. This was having a definite effect on Amy, too. As she sucked my cock, Amy's body began to vibrate and writhe about in obvious arousal. Clearly, Pamela had a very skilled tongue and knew just how to please all of her lady friends.

However, Amy was not the only one at this point in time who was experiencing the absolute ultimate in pleasure.

I let loose a wild growl as the suckstress swallowed the entire length of my erection into her mouth, only to then begin deep-throating me. I looked at Amy's face, noticing those alluring green eyes staring right back at me as she simply tried to devour my shaft. The goddess, without any doubt, was a wonderful and extremely polished cock-sucker. Obviously, Amy had a lot of practice when it came to fellatio. Then again, I said inwardly, look at all of the guys - by her own admission - that she had been with over the years.

Amy then screamed and wailed in unparalleled passion as an orgasm suddenly gripped her body - courtesy of Pamela's tongue. The young woman cried and rocked about in lust, but somehow managed to hold onto my cock and stroke it the whole time. A few more seconds of this, I told myself, and I would most definitely blow my load all over that pretty face...

Once her orgasm subsided, Amy let out a content sigh and stopped pumping my cock, but still held onto it. She moved out from over Pamela, allowing me to the see that the blonde bombshell's face was completely covered with a thick sheen of orgasmic, female juices. Dear God ... this was too much!

I moaned at the sight while Pamela looked at both of us and grinned with pure, erotic delight. Amy's little pussy must have tasted absolutely wonderful to Pamela...

"I want you to fuck her," Amy said to me, still holding my erection as she glared down at Pamela. "I want you to put that big cock in her pussy, and fuck her REALLY HARD."

Pamela let loose another smile, obviously liking this particular idea. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

Grasping my cock, Amy yanked on it slightly until I rose to a standing position. Then she pulled downward, causing me to drop to the floor right beside Pamela.

"I want you to fuck her," the fiendish vixen repeated, her voice full of passion. "I want you to fuck her, and spurt off deep in her pussy." She paused and added, "After that, I'm going to suck all of the cum right out of her pussy."

I took in a deep breath and sighed while an excited squeal came from Pamela. This was going to be fun...

Amy released my erection and then pointed at her lover, wanting me to penetrate her. I smiled and prepared myself to enter Pamela. Fisting my cock, I watched with interested eyes as Pamela dutifully spread her thighs wide beneath me. I could see the look of pure desire in her own eyes as she stared back at me, while Amy continued to egg me on.

"Fuck her, and fuck her HARD."

"Don't you worry," I told Amy in a low tone. "I will."

In a flash, I hooked Pamela's legs over my shoulders and moved in between her spread thighs. Still fisting my cock, I then mounted the exotic dancer in the missionary position and proceeded to sink my cock into her hot, moist pussy.

"OH YES," Pamela growled in wanton lust. "YES! FEELS SO GOOD! SO GOOD! FEELS SO GOOD!" She was quite the vocal sort, for sure. I liked that quality in a woman...

"HARD!" Amy demanded. "FUCK HER HARD!"

Those naughty words, combined with the fact that I had my cock buried in such a gorgeous, ravishing woman, simply set me off. I clutched Pamela tightly to me and then started slamming myself in-and-out of her at a furious rate of speed. She roared out her approval while reaching up and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. I continued hammering away at her as she placed the side of her face upon my shoulder.

"OH YES!" Pamela screamed in total arousal. "FUCK ME! FUCK ME! OH GOD YES, FUCK ME! FUCK ME!"

Amy sat off to the side and watched with interested eyes as I drilled Pamela with all of the strength I could possibly muster. Thrust after powerful thrust, my cock pistoned in-and-out of her silken pussy at warp-speed.

"OH YES!" Pamela continued to scream. "YES! FUCK MY PUSSY! FUCK IT HARDER! GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT TO MEEEEE!"

Amy moved up to her knees directly beside me, then turned my face toward hers and put her lips to mine. The insatiable tart literally jammed her tongue down my throat and kissed me with an intensity and passion which could never be put into words. All the while, I continued to pummel away at Pamela.

Sensing that a monumental orgasm was about to overcome me, I slammed my cock deep into Pamela one final time and held it there. Amy continued to kiss me as I growled, emptying my man-seed into her hungry, willing pussy. Pamela screamed out her obvious approval, her body writhing and squirming about beneath me, until my cock was completely dry.

Amy broke the kiss with me, then looked down at the quivering blonde and let out a tiny giggle. I pulled my shaft out of her, then watched as Amy's eyes shifted to Pamela's soaked pussy. She giggled once more while licking her lips - obviously knowing what her late snack would be.

"I'm gonna suck all the cum out of that pussy now," the minx proclaimed, with a nasty, erotic glint in her eyes.

I pulled myself away from the scene - at least a couple of feet - so Amy could have ample room to indulge herself. My cock was deflated once again. I wondered to myself if I could possibly get hard one more time...

Her face flushed with desire and anticipation, Pamela watched as Amy got herself into position.

Now kneeling in front of her, Amy caressed Pamela's knee and then spread her legs apart. She began to lick and kiss Pamela's calf, then worked up her leg, past her kneecap and to her inner thigh. I watched as Amy traced her tongue in slow circles across Pamela's inner thigh for several seconds, until deciding that it was time for the main course.

Slowly and deliberately, Amy buried her moist, pouty lips in Pamela's pussy. She probed the opening with her tongue, as Pamela squirmed and writhed about in total, lustful bliss. Amy used long, slow swipes with her tongue, obviously wanting to tease and excite her girlfriend beyond any and all belief.

It must have worked, because Pamela reached down and grabbed Amy's head, encouraging her to go further. Amy did so, as she started to flick her tongue across Pamela's silken opening at a rapid-fire speed. This set her off.

"That's it, honey," were her words. "Lick my pussy with your tongue. Make me cum like only you can."

After what these two women had just put me through, I was amazed when my cock started to get hard one more time. I could not believe it. I felt totally exhausted, but my shaft was springing to life once again.

I started stroking myself when Amy pulled her lips away from Pamela long enough to look at me and extend her velvety tongue outward, showing me a big glob of sperm which she had just extracted from her room-mate's pussy. Amy put her lovely tongue back in her mouth and swallowed the glob, then returned to licking and slurping away on Pamela's slit.

I got an idea as I watched the scene unfold before me. Pamela was flat on her back, her knees in the air and feet on the floor as she writhed about in pleasure, massaging her own breasts. Amy was on her elbows and knees, hovering just above Pamela's pussy. Her rounded ass, looking sweet and oh-so-scrumptious, was upturned and wiggling about.

Amy was in the perfect position for me to enter her from behind, doggie-style. I could pound away at her while she had her face stuffed full of Pamela's pussy. An excellent idea, indeed. It became even better when I decided that instead of drilling her pussy, I could plow her ass instead.

I wondered how Amy would react to something so big and pulsing in her own ass. Judging from her preference of gang-bang sex with her boyfriends back in Ohio, I figured that she would probably enjoy it very much. It certainly would not be anything Amy had not experienced in the past.

I got a tube of anal lubricant from a nearby drawer and shined my cock up with it, then got onto my knees and moved in behind Amy. My shaft was only about half-hard, but that was fine. Once its tip barely touched Amy's little, puckered anus, I knew I would have an instant, full-blown erection.

The red-head had been concentrating on Pamela, so she did not know that I planned on entering her from behind until I placed my hands on her ass. She turned around and looked at me for an instant, offering a playful giggle, before diving right back into Pamela's sweet muff.

Amy let out a very long and deep moan, however, when I pressed the head of my cock to her anus. I think it is safe to say that Amy did not expect me to penetrate her there. Judging from her reaction, though, she wanted me to continue.

I had a perfect view of Amy as she licked Pamela's pussy. She used two fingers and was thrusting them in-and-out of her girlfriend, her tongue working overtime. Meanwhile, the blonde was moaning and panting in lust as she looked up at me. A smile was on her beautiful face as she realized that I was going to perform anal sex on her lovely, wicked Amy.

I grasped the nymphomaniac's shapely ass with both hands and gave it a hard, rough squeeze. I offered her a very long and thorough massage, digging my fingertips into her wonderful flesh. Amy had a truly beautiful ass...

"I'm going to enjoy this..." were my words.

It was not too long before I fisted my cock and nudged it into Amy's small, incredibly tight anus. I grunted in response, my shaft now fully erect, as the enchantress let out a very hoarse, dry moan.

"OHHHHH YESSSSS," was her initial reaction. I watched as Pamela, her pussy still getting a tongue-bath, continued to look up at me and smile. This had turned into a three-some if there ever was one. I was a lucky man, indeed...

I continued nudging myself further and further into Amy. Soon, the entire length of my cock was embedded deep within her bowels. I cannot describe how incredibly erotic it felt to have my testicles stuffed against Amy's upturned ass.

"OH YEEEEEAH," the insatiable hellcat panted. "YEAH. THAT'S IT. FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD. YEAH! ASS. ASS. ASS. ASS FUCK! FEELS GOOD! YEEEEEAH! OH YEAH!"

Amy's sounds of passion increased once I started to thrust myself in-and-out of her tiny rosebud. I held onto her backside with both hands and steadily increased the power of my hips. Each stroke I gave her was a bit harder and faster than the prior one. I felt so incredibly excited!...

I continually increased the speed of my thrusts for the next 30 seconds - until I was pounding into Amy as hard as humanly possible. The action had hit a fever pitch.

Amy cried and screamed out in wanton lust as I hammered her from behind. At the same time, she still had her pretty face buried between Pamela's inviting thighs and was busy lapping away. She was also violating Pamela with a pair of fingers. I had a perfect view of the bi/lesbian-style action, and it did nothing but encourage me even further.

I pulled my right arm back, then offered Amy's luscious, curvy ass a hard swat with my hand. Amy jerked in response, obviously enjoying it, then I realized what I had done. I did not even think about spanking her naughty, rounded ass beforehand. It was as if my hand on acted on its own.

"SPANK ME!" Amy begged, now looking back at me with her head turned. "OH GOD YES, PLEASE SPANK ME! SPANK ME!" She buried her face in Pamela's muff one more time, but continued to voice her request. "SPANK ME, JEREMY! SPANK ME!"

I needed no further coaxing as my opposite hand joined the fun. I started to pepper her lush ass with swat after swat. I did not use excessive force on Amy with my hands - I would never do that to a woman - but my blows were strong enough to turn her ass a bright shade of red. That is, after all, what she obviously wanted - to be a spanked hard.

Pamela let out a shrieking moan before she clasped her thighs tightly around Amy's head. I watched as an expression of pure ecstasy washed over Pamela's face. When her eyes rolled into the back of her head, I realized that she was having a ferocious orgasm - mainly due to Amy's oral work.

Her body rocking and writhing about in delight, Pamela screamed and cried in satisfaction as Amy continued to lap away at her. Though I continued to spank her, while also drilling her ass, Amy did not cease her oral feast on Pamela.

In fact, she kept lapping away even after the stripper's orgasm subsided. Watching Pamela get off like that, though, had a definite effect on me. I was about ready to lose it.

I grasped Amy's hips as hard as I could and hammered away at her ass with every last ounce of strength left in my body. Seconds later I let out a wild growl, just before jamming my erection into Amy one final time before it simply exploded.

"YES!" Amy screamed in desire. "CUM! CUM IN MY ASSSSS!"

I screamed too, while pumping glob after glob of sperm into the young woman's incredibly tight anus. I had a lot to offer this time, as well. This was my biggest load thus far. Where it was coming from (considering everything that I had been through thus far), I have no idea.

As I emptied the last of my sperm into her bowels, Amy let out a wild scream and had an orgasm of her own. She then collapsed onto the floor, her face still buried between Pamela's widespread thighs. God ... what an experience!

I pulled my cock out of Amy, then settled down on top of her and massaged her shoulders in a tender fashion. Pamela, who was lying in a heap upon the floor herself, looked up at me and offered yet another grin. All three of us let out a series of moans and sighs as we tried to catch our breaths. This had been an remarkable encounter for everyone involved.

-------

"I've never done something so wild and crazy in my life before," Pamela commented moments later, breaking a stretch of silence, as the three of us continued to cuddle together. "I ... this ... WOW. That was downright incredible!"

Amy took a deep breath and sighed, then extended that magical tongue of hers and licked away at Pamela's thigh. "It will get much better, babydoll. Trust me. I have a feeling that this will be the best summer of our lives!"

"Winter, sweetheart," I gasped in response. "Remember that it is winter-time in this part of the world."

Pamela made eye contact with me and offered the most heartfelt, sincere smile anyone had ever bestowed on me before. A wave of love seemed to wash over her pristine face all at once as she cooed, "This already is the best summer-slash-winter of my life, Amy." Her face sparkling, Pamela winked an eye and blew a kiss in my direction. "It will only get better once it ends with me emerging from of all of this craziness with a husband."

"Oooooh!" Amy squealed in response.

My world right now, to say the least, was hazy. I was floating on cloud nine in some place far, far away. Yet again, one question begged to be answered. How was I going to survive the next five weeks? I certainly had no idea. Over time, these ladies were going to become more and more ravenous, and thus, expect more out of me in return. Just a three-some today? Maybe a four-on-one tomorrow? Maybe even a seven-on-one? I had the sense that a wild, free-for-all orgy with everyone involved was going to happen here soon.

Of course, I could never forget about Kristanna. What was she up to in the voyeur room right about now? Knowing her, Kristanna was probably stripped naked, and she had been busy masturbating to the sights and sounds of Pamela and Amy having their lustful way with me on the surveillance monitor. I could envision her now with a vibrator between her thighs, having gotten off multiple times to what she had witnessed.

I also knew that Kristanna wished she could have come out and joined in on the fun. That could not happen, however, because if she did, the voyeur room would have been exposed to Pamela and Amy. We did not want the ladies to know that every single move they made was being recorded and archived with high-tech spy cameras and microphones. Not yet, anyway.

Lost in thought, I soon realized that my wish from a few days ago was going to come true when Amy suggested that I climb into bed with her and Pamela, the idea being that we would all eventually fall asleep together. It sounded like an excellent idea to me, of course.

Thankfully, there was a comfortable sofa and a stocked refrigerator in the voyeur room. Kristanna was stuck there tonight. She would have to sleep in the voyeur room, but I knew it would not be an issue for her. We had already discussed the possibility of one (or even both) of us being trapped in the voyeur room because my personal suite had company inside of it. Thus, we were prepared for it.

I got in and settled down upon the center of the mattress, then had Pamela lay her head on one shoulder, with Amy's on the other. Talk about living the high life!

As the centerpiece of a Pamela and Amy sandwich, I was surprised that I got any sleep at all. It was difficult to doze off - and when I did, stay that way and not wake up - because their beautiful, naked bodies continually squirmed and writhed against me all throughout the night. It seemed as if I had gone to bed with two world-famous centerfolds who were not only crazy about me, but each other as well...

Maybe Pamela could marry me in the future, and Amy could be our live-in girlfriend. Hey, that was my best idea yet!



-------

Chapter 7: Cryptic


"Hey Jeremy!"

As I entered the front room of the estate on this bright and sunny Sunday morning, I looked around in all different directions for the source of that friendly, energetic voice, but there was not a soul to be found.

"Earth to Jeremy!"

I looked again, but did not see anyone. I then shook my head and wondered if, for some reason, I was hearing things. Was I going senile in my advancing age?

"Jeremy!"

When my face was turned toward the right, that same voice made me look around and focus all of my attention to the far left. I narrowed my gaze to the circular wet bar, as well as the panels of sweeping, beveled mirrors directly behind it. I noticed the back of a blonde head hidden behind the counter of the bar via the mirror. With such thick and luxurious hair, not to mention its healthy waves, I knew it was...

"Trish?"

The beautiful and charming 30-year-old giggled with pure delight as she stood up from behind the lavish bar, finally revealing herself to me. "Hi Jeremy!"

I made my way over to her and smiled. "Hiding from me?"

"Just playing, actually," Trish countered. "I was hoping that you wouldn't spot me for another few seconds. It was fun to see that confused look on your face."

I tilted my head at her. "Do you like hiding from people while calling out their name, Miss Trish?"

"Just playing," she reiterated, giggling. "Anyway, how are you doing, Jeremy? What's up?"

I shrugged my shoulders and took a seat at the bar. "Not much, I guess. No matter where you go - Canada, America or even a tropical island like this - Sundays are always slow. Everyone seems to be kicking back and taking it easy today."

Trish sat down upon the stool on the enclosed side of the bar across from me. "Have you seen Lindsay since breakfast?"

"I think she is out back at the pool with Amy," I said, having eavesdropped on a discussion between those two ladies no more than 15 minutes ago with the help of the voyeur room. I added another smile for Trish and commented, "You ... you're really attracted to that girl. You love Lindsay."

She nodded her head. "Yes, I do." Trish hesitated for a moment and glanced downward. When she made eye contact with me seconds later, I noticed that her face was suddenly a very bright shade of red. Now Trish was the one blushing! "I want to thank you, Jeremy, for what happened Thursday night."

"Oh?"

Trish fidgeted about a bit upon the stool before finally saying, "What you and me did for Lindsay. It ... it was the most incredible experience of my life. Bar none."

I nodded my head. "Was that the first time you had sex with two or more people at the same time?"

"Yeah," Trish answered, her tone peppy and insightful. "I think I am going to have the first time for a lot of things on this island of yours. I've just ... I've never been the kind of girl to be so wild and carefree. So open. But this island is opening new doors for me."

"You always WANTED to be wild and carefree, though..."

"Yes, most definitely," Trish remarked. "A part of me always has, at least. But I pride myself in being smart and sensible." And classy too, I said inwardly. "I'm not like Amy where I have an army of boyfriends and girlfriends back home. On this island, though, I can just LET GO. I have. This is such a wonderful, WONDERFUL atmosphere."

"Why was Thursday night so incredible for you?"

"Lindsay is so sweet and beautiful, you know," Trish told me. "I think Lindsay is a doll. I think she is perfect in every sense of the word. It was ... it was an honor for me to be with her for her first time having sex. An honor." Trish shook her head. Did I catch a tear running down her cheek? "The way we treated her ... the way YOU treated her, Jeremy. It was ... it was like a fairy tale to me." Trish paused and added, "Where were you years ago when I lost my virginity? THAT was such a terrible experience for me. But you, Jeremy ... you ... were so kind and loving with Lindsay. It is a memory she will cherish for the rest of her life. It could not have been scripted any better."

"You were kind and loving with Lindsay too, sweetheart," I reminded Trish. "And you were just as much a part of the proceedings as I was. Lindsay will cherish her time with you for the rest of her life as well." I took a deep breath before asking, "Why was losing your virginity such a terrible experience? Provided, you don't mind sharing it with me..."

Trish made a face. "It was back in high school with an old boyfriend of mine. I thought he loved me. He told me he loved me. But all he wanted out of me was sex. It took me a while to realize that. Unfortunately, though, it was after I had already given my virginity to him."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Oh, don't be sorry," Trish grinned. "It wasn't your fault, Jeremy. I just ... I think back a lot, and wish that my first time was with someone like you." My body tingled as Trish went on, "You would have made it special for me, Jeremy, just like you made it special for Lindsay." Trish giggled and shook her head quite vigorously. "Oh ... that is too much for me to say to you. Too personal."

"Not at all," I insisted.

"I shouldn't go getting all deep and brutally honest with you about my feelings."

"I don't mind one bit," were my words. "You can say whatever you want to me, Trish. Whatever you want. You would never make me uncomfortable with anything that you say, as long as it is the truth. I love total honesty. I also love being open and honest with others as well."

The Canadian offered me an inquisitive look. "What was your first time having sex like, Jeremy? Was it good?"

I stumbled over my thoughts for a moment, then composed myself and told her, "It was extremely special for me."

"Who was it? A girlfriend from high school? College?"

"Kristanna."

"KRISTANNA?" Trish exclaimed, her eyes wide in response. "Kristanna? You ... you lost your virginity to KRISTANNA?"

"Yes." I knew what was coming next.

"If you've known Kristanna for what ... four years, and you are age 38 now ... then you did not have sex until you were age 34?" Trish was flabbergasted. "You were a VIRGIN until you were 34?" Trish placed a hand to her mouth and moaned, perhaps angry at herself. It seemed as if Trish did not want to offend me with her words, but feared she may have very well done just that. "Oh God, Jeremy ... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything bad or negative with what I..."

"It's okay," I assured her, cutting her words off. "It's a perfectly normal reaction. A lot of guys have sex before they graduate from high school. A lot more by the time they graduate from college. Me ... I was a late bloomer, I guess. Not until I was 34. But I don't have any regrets."

"Surely you had opportunities," Trish said, which brought a smile to my face. "I mean ... if you don't mind talking about it, Jeremy. Why? Why did you wait so long?"

"I did have a couple of opportunities along the way," I pouted. "I was even engaged once - Victoria was her name. We were only 19 and made it all the way to our wedding day. But something went terribly wrong, and it never happened. Our marriage, our life, our future ... everything. Gone."

"What happened?" Trish inquired, concerned.

I shook my head and spoke in a very bitter voice, "I am sorry, Trish, but I rather not talk about that day."

"Oh..." She was taken aback with my tone.

I sighed and shook my head. "I am sorry. I did not mean to snap at you." I shook my head one more time. "I did have my opportunities for sex, as I said. I was engaged to Victoria. We made it to our wedding day, but were never married. I also seriously dated a girl in Oregon during the few months that I lived there, but I never had sex with her, either. Her name was Tiffany. Unfortunately, Tiffany cared more about my money than she actually cared about me. I never came close to having sex with her. Victoria too."

Trish shrugged her shoulders. "I don't want to intrude or be nosey, Jeremy. But you never had sex with your fiancee?"

I let out a begrudging laugh and responded, "I was hoping to save myself for my wedding night."

"Oh my God!..." Trish gasped, now bringing both hands to her mouth and momentarily covering it. "That's so sweet! And so very noble! There are not many guys who would even CONSIDER that!" She hesitated, perhaps lost in thought for a moment or two. "How did Kristanna get you to change your mind? I mean ... I KNOW that you're not married to her."

"Kristanna is very different than me in the way that she looks at life," I told Trish. "Kristanna is very happy and jovial. She wants to go a million miles-per-hour in life, ALWAYS have fun, and NEVER have any regrets. Basically, when we met and became friends, Kristanna convinced me to have sex with her. She knew that I was a virgin, too. I told her. I guess you could say that Kristanna helped bring out a new side of me, Trish. Just like you said the island is bringing out a new side of you."

"Kristanna made it extremely special for you, eh?"

I smiled at Trish. "Kristanna treated me the same way that I treated Lindsay. I'll never forget that night. It is something that I will cherish for the rest of my life. I could not have asked for a better scenario."

"That is so neat!" Trish squealed. "I'll have to go and give Kristanna a hug, and tell her thank you, next time I see her." She shrugged her shoulders and added, "You and her say that you are just friends, Jeremy, but I cannot see why you and Kristanna have not hooked up for a relationship yet. I mean ... you and Kristanna seem like a really cool couple. I know that she has been here just a few days, so I don't know what has gone on in the past with you two. But from what I've seen thus far, you and Kristanna are always happy and laughing together. I think you two make a neat couple."

"Kristanna is a farm girl from Norway and I am an island dweller from the South Pacific," I explained. "Any type of commitment between us would never work. Kristanna likes to vacation here, but she loves Norway, and would never leave it. Personally, I don't want to leave this island. I have been all over the world. Born in Ohio, lived on the east and west coasts, vacationed everywhere. This is my home. I have no intention of ever living anywhere but this island."

Trish appeared confused for a moment. "I thought you said that you have homes in both Ohio and California..."

"I do," I nodded. "In name only, really, though. My father and his girlfriend live in the house in California. I keep it in my name for tax and financial purposes. That way, my father does not owe a cent on anything. Everything gets billed to me. The same goes for the house in Ohio, though no one officially resides in it right now. I mostly keep that particular home so I have a place to stay when I am visiting my family. Everyone in my immediate family, except my father, lives in the general Cincinnati area. But, this island is my one TRUE home. Always will be."

"You and Kristanna still make a cool couple, though. I think that the two of you look really good together."

"Hi Trish," came a shy, humble voice.

"Lindsay!" Trish exclaimed, standing up from the bar and making her way out from behind it via the swinging door.

When I turned around, my jaw literally hit the floor and I nearly had a heart attack. There was the ultra-sweet and darling Lindsay in a little, two-piece bikini. Her hair all soaked and disheveled from the pool, the 18-year-old had a white towel draped around her neck and shoulders. I felt an all-too-familiar rustling within my shorts.

I watched as Trish ran over and offered Lindsay a lively, spirited hug, even giving her a full, open-mouthed kiss in the process. "How are you doing, baby?"

Lindsay blushed red with embarrassment, but actually did something bold by reaching out and squeezing Trish's round, spandex-clad ass with her right hand. Of course, it was accompanied by a girlish giggle of great accomplishment. God, I said to myself. Lindsay reminded me of jailbait!

"Oh..." Trish smiled at her. "You squeeze my ass, baby, and I get to squeeze your ass!" Trish purred with delight as she encircled Lindsay's body with both arms and then trailed her hands down to that precious, tight ass. It was followed by a healthy squeeze, then a series of gentle pats. In turn, Lindsay seemed to sag and melt on her older lover. She really seemed to enjoy other people touching her ass. I had to make a mental note of that for the future.

"I need a shower," the young woman murmured in her soft, timid voice. "I was hoping you would help me with it..."

Trish's eyes seemed to light up like a Christmas tree at the prospects. "I'd LOVE to give you a shower!" Trish moved her lips close to Lindsay's ear and purred, "I will have to give your little pussy a thorough scrubbing with my tongue."

"Oh God..." Lindsay moaned in response, before turning her attention to me. "Hi th-there, sir. I mean ... Jeremy!"

I returned her smile with one of my own. "Hi doll..."

"Doll?" Lindsay giggled.

"Do you mind if Lindsay and I excuse ourselves, eh?" Trish asked me. "The girl needs a shower!"

"Not at all," I answered, although I was suddenly feeling terrible inside. "Have fun together."

"Let me give Jeremy a hug before we go off together," Lindsay said to Trish, an instant before breaking free of her clutches and then strolling on over to me. Lindsay wrapped both arms around my neck and shoulders and squeezed generously, then even offered me a little kiss on the cheek to boot. Next, she pulled back and looked into my eyes. "I was talking to my mom on the telephone earlier, Jeremy. She wanted me to tell you thank you one more time for wiring all of that money to her bank account. She said that all of our household bills and credit card payments have been taken care of. And there is still plenty of money left over."

"It was my pleasure."

Lindsay kissed my cheek again. "And thank you, from me." Another kiss, followed by a suggestive smile. "Much more where that came from, too ... when the time is right." Of course, that suggestive smile was accompanied with a blush. Slowly but surely, Lindsay was coming out of her shell.

Trish decided to close the distance between us and give me a hug of her own. "You remember what I said to you," she then spoke, grasping hands with Lindsay. "You and Kristanna make a really neat couple, Jeremy. Remember that. Think about it. You're a really great guy, and I want you to be happy. You deserve it." Trish tugged at Lindsay's hand, then guided her away from me and eventually out of the front room. Lindsay did flash me a nice smile and wave, though...

Now all by my lonesome at the circular wet bar here in the front room of the estate, I hung my head low and sighed. Trish had been amongst my favorites of all of the ladies for a while, but it seemed as if it would be in my best interests to look elsewhere for that elusive soul-mate of mine. I had nothing against Trish, mind you. She had all of the qualities that I looked for in a woman. In fact, Trish seemed to be the ideal, picture-perfect candidate for a wife. Could anyone say one bad word about her? The simple problem was that Trish had tunnel vision for one person, and one person only - Lindsay.

Ample proof of that was what just transpired seconds ago. I was having a very nice and friendly discussion with Trish which appeared as if it may last for well over an hour. But when Lindsay showed up, Trish lost virtually all interest in me. She ran over to Lindsay and promptly went off with her.

Oh ... I should not feel bad about it, even though I did. In no way was Trish intentionally spiting or ignoring me. She was madly in love with Lindsay. Who could blame her?

Although this was just their seventh day together on the island, it was clearly obvious that Trish wanted to devote every fiber of her existence to Lindsay. No, I should not feel bad that Trish discarded me the way she did. Her whole universe completely stopped when Lindsay showed up. I understood perfectly, and was not upset with Trish at all. Again, who could blame her for falling in love with Lindsay? Lindsay was the innocent, teen angel from my deepest, darkest fantasies come to life. Obviously, Trish felt the same way.

I fidgeted about somewhat upon the stool at the bar and took a deep, ragged breath. Although I was not upset with Trish, it did hurt me - just a little - that she walked away from our discussion in that manner. I also felt bad simply because the subject of my ex-fiancee - Victoria - came up during the conversation with Trish. Just the mere mention of Victoria, who left me standing at the altar some 18 years ago (and sent my whole life into a downward spiral which has STILL yet to cease), never failed to horribly depress me.

The saga of Victoria - why she abandoned me and all of the many events leading up to that point - is a story in and of itself. I will have to go into explicit detail about her at some point during this story - but not now.

On a better note, I did find it interesting that Trish felt as if Kristanna and I made a neat couple. I could have fallen in love with Kristanna a long time ago, I guess, and almost did. But it would have never worked out between us simply because of geography. Kristanna and I were from seemingly different worlds. Different universes, even. The difference between this island and Norway was like night and day. Kristanna loved her country and did not want to live anywhere else. Me? I loved this island, as I said earlier, and did not want to live anywhere else.

So, Kristanna and I were nothing more than friends. We were very CLOSE friends - there were a lot of sexual sparks between us - but just friends nonetheless. I could trust Kristanna with anything. She was a wonderful friend to me. Was I even capable of looking at her as anything more?

"I yust vant yew to be happy, Jeremy." I cannot even begin to speculate how many times Kristanna had said that same, exact quote to me. Her English may have been broken, but the thought and sincerity were there, regardless.

Still, it was interesting to me that Trish believed that Kristanna and I went well together. We really did, I guess. She would be an excellent counterpoint for me as a soul-mate. Whereas I went through bouts of depression and anxiety, Kristanna was always so lively and cheerful. Kristanna helped keep me feeling good even on my bad days because of her limitless charisma and infectious demeanor. But it would never come to fruition between us because of geography.

I quickly composed myself when I heard a pair of voices somewhere off in the distance. I wondered for a moment if Lindsay and Trish had decided to return to me. But when I was able to pinpoint on one of the two voices, there was no mistaking who it belonged to. It was not Lindsay or Trish.

"Yew vant to go down to da beach and have picnic vid me?"

"I would love to, but I already promised Jeremy that I would meet him in his private suite a bit later on," Devon said in response to Kristanna, as both ladies entered the front room and then noticed that I was here as well. "Hey there, Jeremy!" Devon greeted, running over and offering me a very warm, albeit quick-hitting embrace.

The thought crossed my mind that Devon was someone who would never discard or forget about me the same way Trish did when Lindsay stepped into the front room moments ago. According to a series of discussions that she had with Camille, which I eavesdropped on with the help of my voyeur room, Devon was totally in love with me. And during my private time with Devon this past week, she had done just about everything to indicate that but actually profess her love to my face. But her feelings for me were obvious.

I could definitely see Devon and yours truly getting together somewhere down the line and making that bona-fide commitment that I have spent my entire life dreaming about. Devon's knockout form, heart-stopping beauty and luminous blue eyes could cure almost any ailment that I had in life. Even better, the 27-year-old from Pennsylvania had a warm, loving heart and a sweet personality. The little touch of sassiness that Devon possessed went a long way for her, too.

Each and every time I had laid my eyes on Devon thus far, I was becoming more and more addicted to her. But at the same time, I still wanted to keep my options open before reaching a final decision on which of the ladies I liked the most. Unfortunately, however, Trish was looking like a lost cause to me. She wanted Lindsay and no one else.

"Hi Devon. Hi Kristanna," I said to the two ladies, who were now standing just before me here at the wet bar.

"Vat do yew dink about going down to da beach and having a picnic vid Devvy and me?" Kristanna asked me in that very unique, sultry voice of hers. She turned toward Devon and mused, "Dat is, if yew vant to go on picnic vid me."

Devon nodded her head at Kristanna. "I would love to have a picnic with you." She then focused on me. "I will leave it up to you, Jeremy. I know that I asked for some private time with you today, but Krissy is so nice and fun-loving. I like being around her! If you don't mind Krissy tagging along with us, we all could have a picnic at the beach."

Kristanna's blue eyes flashed in a very mischievous manner. "Maybe da tree of us could go skinny-dipping, too!"

"Krissy!" Devon laughed, gently smacking her shoulder.

I smiled at the pair of luscious, bombshell blondes, but focused my primary gaze on Devon for now. "Kristanna is my best friend. If you are comfortable with her spending some time with us, Devon, then I am comfortable, too." I nodded at Kristanna and added, "The more time that I get to spend with you, the better. I love being around you."

"I love being around yew too, Mister Jeremy."

"It is good to see that the two of you hanging out and doing things together," I told them. "I like that."

"Why do you like that?" Devon inquired.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I just want everyone to get along and be happy. I want everyone to be friends."

"Jeremy vants all of us to be like one big, happy family," Kristanna advised Devon. "He vants perfect harmony." The Norwegian turned all of her attention toward Devon. "I dink dat everyding on island has been perfect duss far. But dare is someding dat vould make it even more perfect, ya."

"What?"

Kristanna winked at Devon. "If all da udder girls here verr as sveet and as sexy as yew are."

Devon tilted her head to the side and offered a tiny laugh in response. "Krissy! That's so nice of you!" I watched with interested eyes as Devon gave Kristanna a very warm and caring embrace, followed by a peck on the lips. "Thank you!"

"Yew are so very welcome, honey," Kristanna said, before looking at me once again. "So vat da deal, Mister Jeremy? Do yew feel like going on da picnic now, or later? Believe it or not, but I already have picnic basket ready!"

"You feel like going now?" I asked Devon.

"Sure."

"Then let's go now," I surmised, glancing at Kristanna. "Where is the picnic basket? In the kitchen?"

"Yup yup..."

"I'll get it," Devon said, before turning and venturing off in the direction of the kitchen.

Now all alone in the spacious front room with Kristanna, the 23-year-old stepped forward and offered me a gentle kiss on the lips. "Dat girl really likes yew, Jeremy ... Devvy."

"You really like her too, I see."

Kristanna smiled at me. "Selvsagt liker jeg henne. Men alt jeg vil er at alle vi tre er sammen."

My eyes wide, I sighed and shook my head at her in a truly exasperated fashion. "There you go again! What did you say?"

"Yew have to learn me language to find out vat I say!"

I folded my arms and glared at her in a playful manner. "I bet you are cursing me out when you do that..."

Kristanna laughed. "I am not!"

One of these days, I would really have to sit down and learn the maddening, Norwegian language. What in the WORLD was Kristanna saying to me? Every now and then, she would toss in a cryptic message like that when talking to me. It nearly drove me insane whenever she would do that to me!

"Vat is vrong vid yew today, Jeremy?" Kristanna suddenly asked, her eyes gauging me. "Yew do not look too cheerful."

I shrugged her off. "Nothing, really."

"Vat is it?" Kristanna insisted. "Tell me. Yew know dat I am here to help yew, Jeremy. I vould do anyding for yew."

I shook my head and took a few seconds before deciding to respond, "I was talking with Trish before you and Devon came here." Kristanna nodded her head as I continued, "Lindsay showed up, though, and it was like Trish forgot that I was even alive. They went off together almost immediately. I like Trish a lot, you know. But it was like I fell off the face of the Earth. I just couldn't believe it."

"Yew know dat Trish is loco crazy over Lindsay..."

"I know," I frowned. "I really understand, too. I was having a really nice talk with Trish, but she just STOPPED everything when Lindsay showed up. I wasn't even there. Just ... Trish hurt my feelings a little bit. I know that she did not mean to, but she did. A little bit, at least."

Kristanna offered me a sympathetic smile. "Personally speaking, I vould never do anyding to hurt yew, Jeremy. It vould be da udder vay around vid me. I could very vell forget udders if I be talking to dem ven yew come into room."

"Really?" I asked, both confused and surprised.

"I'm back!" Devon squealed as she merrily paraded into the front room, a picnic basket made of wicker underneath her right arm. "I have made my triumphant return!"

"Yew owe me anudder kiss," Kristanna said to Devon, who dutifully stepped forward and paid her debt in full. "Hmmmmm hmmmmm ... tastes yummy. Devvy taste like sveet honey to me."

I chuckled. "That's because Devon IS a sweet honey."

"Oh..." Devon cooed, grinning at me. "Thank you, Jeremy!"

"Vy do not da two of yew go down to beach?" Kristanna said to us. "I vill meet up vid yew in few minutes, ya."

"Aren't you going to walk down with us?" Devon wondered.

"It be okay," Kristanna insisted. "Yew two go down to da beach. I yust remembered dat I promised I vould call Momma and Papa on da telephone at eleven o'clock. Dat vas five minutes ago. I vill be down to da beach soon." With that, Kristanna spun around and quickly exited the front room.

"Let me carry that for you," I said to Devon, snatching the large picnic basket from her.

Devon allowed me to take the basket, but glanced in the direction Kristanna had just ventured off to before turning her focus back to me. "That girl is just plain kooky!"

I laughed at those all-too-truthful words. "Kristanna is a comedian. She is so funny - even when she doesn't try to be. I think her accent is downright hilarious."

"And incredibly sexy," Devon chimed in.

"That too," I nodded.

Devon flashed me a shy smile before saying, "I think you are incredibly sexy too, Jeremy..."

Suddenly, I was doing my best imitation of Lindsay - my face was a bright shade of red, and I was blushing like never before. As I have stated in the past, I considered myself to be nothing more than your typical, average man in terms of physical appearance. Nothing seemed to stand out about me, positive or negative. Yet a beautiful woman like Devon just told me - to my face - that I am incredibly sexy. I was so flattered by her comment that I could not even respond to it!

Devon hooked her arm around mine and tugged gently. "Come on, Jeremy. Let's go to the beach and set everything up."

I carried the basket with my opposite arm as I allowed Devon to guide me out of the estate and onto the front lawn. "We got plenty of food and refreshments in here?" Before saying that, though, I had to cough and clear my throat. I was still feeling the effects of Devon's sexy proclamation!

"Oh yes," she answered. "The picnic basket is stuffed."

"This way to the beach," I said, motioning with my head toward the west. When we started walking, Devon glanced up at me and offered my arm and shoulder a little squeeze.

"As I said, Krissy is so very nice," Devon mused. "I have been with her since breakfast this morning. I love her attitude and her zest for life. It is contagious."

"I know that Kristanna really likes you, Devon." She perked up at those words as I continued, "Kristanna was asking me about you last night."

"Oh yeah? What did she ask?"

Although I knew that Kristanna would later thank me for telling Devon what I just said, I did not want to give any specifics of our discussion from last evening. "Oh, little things, really. I can tell that she is really attracted to you, Devon. Kristanna is a great, great girl."

"Is she dating, or seeing anyone?"

I shook my head. "Kristanna is mysteriously un-attached. Kristanna has all the guys in Norway chasing her, I am sure, but she has not been in a serious relationship as long as I have known her - for the past four years. The girl enjoys partying and having a good time. I do not think that she has found the person yet with whom she would like to settle down and marry, though. Kristanna probably will not admit it, but I think that is what she ultimately wants."

"To get married and be happy in life?"

"Precisely."

"I cannot fault her for that," Devon sighed. "When I was in high school, I had everything planned out. I was going to be married by the time I was 21. A mother by the time I was 22. But look at me now. I'm 27. A lot of times, it seems as if a big part of my life has passed me by. Once I broke up with my last boyfriend, Barrett, I began to wonder if I will ever get married. If I will ever be a mother..."

"I would say that you are still incredibly young and should not feel that way, sweetheart," were my words. "But I know where you are coming from. I am 38, and feel the same, exact way you do. Still, people would tell me that I am young, too. I should not feel this way. But I do."

"If the day ever comes, I will be a GREAT mother," Devon nodded. "I will treat my children a lot better than my own parents have treated me. I can guarantee you that."

I felt like asking Devon to expound on whatever problems that she had with her mother and father, but held back for the time being. I figured that Devon would tell me when she felt more comfortable and at ease around me. I certainly did not want to prod and/or possibly irritate her about it. Obviously, whatever problems existed between Devon and her parents was a very private and sticky subject.

"What were your parents like when you were growing up?"

I took a deep breath. "Oh, I knew they cared about me. But it always seemed as if there was a distance between us. My mom never wanted to listen to any of my problems or troubles while growing up. My dad was always away. He told us that he was working late all of the time. In reality, though, he was cheating on my mom with other women. My mom and dad separated three times before finally doing it for good. That was 14 years ago. I was 24 then, and already living on this island. My father is in Los Angeles. He stayed there while my mother went back home to Ohio. I pay her rent every month for a large condo ... she doesn't want to live in a house for some reason. I don't know why."

"That is sweet of you - paying her rent," Devon cooed. "What about your father? Did you take care of him too?"

"Yes," I replied. "I bought him a large home in Rachos Palos Verdes and gave him plenty of money so he could retire. But my father does not want to retire. He is a work-aholic to the highest degree. Still works his 40-plus hours each and every week, even though I've given him millions in cash. The man is so dedicated. In 51 years of being with that company, he has never once called off sick. Not one day. I can remember days when he was incredibly sick, too. Used to drive 40 miles through nasty blizzards in New Jersey when we lived there. Never missed a day of work for anything. He could have too, and not lost anything for it because he was always a salaried employee. My father would have gotten paid regardless if he was at work or not. But calling off sick or staying home from work for whatever reason ... not him."

"You seem to have that same type of work ethic," Devon observed. "I know that you are semi-retired, Jeremy, and obviously do not do any job-type work on this island. But I can tell that you are very goal-oriented. You have drive, too. You must have got that from your father."

"I like to think that everything I have in life, I have worked hard for it," I explained. "I never stopped giving it my all, career wise, until my goals were met. I still work hard in whatever I do, but most of my income nowadays is from residuals and the American stock market. On the other hand, my father once told me that if you reach your goals in life, career-wise, you need to set higher ones."

"I quit my job as a project manager at that place back in Pennsylvania in order to come to the island," Devon said. "I do not know what I will do once it is time to go back home in five weeks - IF I go home (!/?/!) - but hopefully something will pop up for me. I know what type of worker I am myself."

"It was probably for the better that you got away from that company," I told her. "You did not get along with your boss. You said you worked all those many hours - off days, weekends, even vacations - and your boss would take all of the credit for every project you worked on like it was his own." I shook my head and surmised, "That's not right."

"Can I ask you a question, Jeremy? There is something that I have been curious about since arriving on the island last week. I was hoping maybe you could answer it for me."

"Ask me whatever you wish."

Devon smiled at me. "Can you tell me about the selection process for the island? What I mean to ask you is this ... how did you go about choosing the women you brought here? Lindsay, Pamela, Trish, Amy, Camille, myself?..."

I nodded my head at her. "Do you remember that very long and detailed questionnaire that I sent you in the mail after you inquired about coming here?"

"How could I forget it?" Devon responded. "It took me four or five hours just to fill it out. The questions on it were hard and thought-provoking. What appeals to you more? A, consistency of thought or B, harmonious relationships? I really had to sit and think about some of the questions."

"That long questionnaire you filled out was put into a computer, which processed all of your answers," I went on. "All of the questionnaires - there were thousands of them - were put into the computer. Matchmaker software, actually. The computer took all the answers and matched them up with mine. You and all of the other girls here - Lindsay, Pamela, Trish, Amy and Camille - scored in the top 20 with me, in terms of compatibility, out of what was nearly 20,000 women."

Devon's eyes went wide. "THAT many women applied?"

"I thought the number was very low," I shrugged. "The promise of $100,000 with a chance at $500,000 for what amounted to a six week vacation on a tropical island." I smiled and added, "The questionnaire had 324 questions on it. The computer processed all of the answers. It was set up to automatically disqualify any woman who had too many inconsistencies in her answers. It was also set up to disqualify any woman, according to her answers, that it felt was greedy, self-centered or money-hungry. Obviously, I do not want or need a woman with those traits in my life. It matched all of the answers up with mine."

"Oh wow..." Devon murmured, her eyes wide. "I did not even know what was a good answer or a bad answer on that thing. I just tried to be as honest as possible with my answers. Can I ... can I ask you another question, Jeremy?"

"Fire away."

"You said me and all of the others ranked in the top 20." I nodded my head as she asked, "Where did I come in?"

"First."

Devon's picturesque face lit-up with an even mixture of shock and happiness. "REALLY? I was rated FIRST? Out of 20,000 possible matches for you? That's incredible!"

"Yes," I agreed. "The questionnaire was very detailed, as you know, and very in-depth. It rated you higher than anyone else who took it, Devon. Considering how much you and I seem to like each other, sweetheart, I do not think that the matchmaker software made a mistake."

"Wow..." Devon gushed, awestruck. "Where did the other girls rank? Do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember," I told her. "Pamela was second, Trish was third. Lindsay, 11. Amy, 17. Camille, 20."

"Why not just choose the top six?"

"There were only percentage points difference in the top 20. A hundredth, a thousandth of a point. That's it. You scored a 84.68279, Devon, if I remember correctly. Several spots later at number 17, Amy scored a 84.67415 - less than a hundredth of a point behind you. All it had to be was one answer ... one inconsistency difference. Instead of going with the top six, as you said, I expanded the finalists to 20 and then made my decision from there. I called you on the telephone, remember, and did an interview. I called everyone in the top 20 and did interviews. After a couple of days, I was finally able to narrow the field to six."

"Where did Kristanna come in?"

I laughed. "Kristanna did not take the test. She is the one who helped me write the matchmaker software. As I said, I certainly did not want any woman who was self-centered or more concerned about money than actual love. There was a MAJOR emphasis on that in the questionnaire. According to the computer, no one on this island would put money ahead of happiness. That is really important to me, considering how much money I have. But thanks to the computer, I am really not concerned with the idea that one or more of you are interested in me simply because of my money. I think that the computer did a good job. And, aside from curiosity about who ultimately gets the $500,000 grand prize five weeks from now - which is human nature, I think - none of you really even care that much about money."

"Money is nice and it is always good to have more of it," Devon murmured. "But it can only go so far."

"I used to date a girl when I lived in Oregon," I told Devon, repeating an earlier comment I made to Trish. "Her name was Tiffany. It turned out that Tiffany was more in love with my money than she was in love with me. It broke my heart. I do not want to go through that again."

"I can certainly understand that..."

"You want to get married and have a family so very much, Devon," I remarked. "If anyone, you know that money does not buy happiness. You know that just as much as I do."

"If the computer picked your top matches, Jeremy, why aren't all of us the same?" Devon wondered. "I mean ... it seems as if you have quite a varied group here."

"I like different types of women," I explained to her. "You are very loyal and family-oriented, Devon. You want to get married and have a family more than anything else. The other ladies vary from you in certain instances. They are different. But as I said, I like different types of women. Trish? Trish is extremely confident and hard-working. I like total innocence, almost a too-naive nature - Lindsay. Amy is a nymphomaniac. Pamela is a lot like me in the fact that she seems to have some perception and social issues when it comes to others. Down-deep, though, Pamela is a lot like you, Devon. She wants to get married and have a family, too. Camille is supposed to be a mix of all those qualities. She might be proof that the computer is NOT infallible."

"What do you mean?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I think that it is safe to say that Camille and I have yet to click with each other. I could be wrong, but I do not think that she even likes me."

"How long did it take to process 20,000 questionnaires?"

"About two months," I answered. "If you remember, it was a scan-tron test. All Kristanna and I had to do was drop each questionnaire into the machine, and wait for the computer to process the answers. It took five seconds."

"But you had to go through 20,000 of them."

"Yes," I nodded. "I trust, Miss Devon, that you will not tell anyone on the island anything that I say to you. I have trusted you with more information about myself, why you are here and how you were selected, than anyone else. I do not want the others to know that I am searching for a soul-mate. Kristanna knows everything, of course, but not anyone else. I would like it to stay that way."

"Your secret is safe with me," she implored. "I promise. That is one thing about myself that I have always been proud of. Tell me a secret, and I keep it to myself."

I smiled at her. "An admirable trait to have..."

"Here I am!" Kristanna exclaimed, sprinting up to us from behind here on the path which led toward the beach. Somewhat short of breath, Kristanna placed a hand onto my shoulder once she caught up with us and mused, "Momma and Papa did not answer da telephone, so dey must be doing someding on da farm. I left message on answering machine and told dem dat I vould call back a couple of hours from now. I do not like dem calling here because da long-distance charges on da telephone are vay too expensive."

"You have a wonderful relationship with your parents ... don't you?" Devon asked Kristanna. "You have mentioned them four or five times in the past couple of days."

"I have da best family in da vull, vide vorld," Kristanna beamed. "Not only Momma and Papa, but me sister, Tekla, and her 'lil children. Tekla is much older dan me, and she have tree kids - Stein, Tobias and Sophitia. I love me nephews and niece like dey me own siblings, or even me children."

Devon appeared crestfallen. "It must be nice to have a family like that. Everyone caring about you, loving you."

"Vat is vrong?" Kristanna asked, obviously sensing the sudden change in Devon's posture and demeanor.

Devon shook her head. "Nothing."

"Vat is vrong?" Kristanna demanded.

"I said it was nothing." With those words, Devon bolted away and walked rather briskly to the beach some 100 yards in front of us. I could easily tell that she was upset.

Confused, Kristanna looked at me. "Did I do someding vrong? I vant Devvy to like me as much as I like her."

"Something happened between Devon and her parents," I informed Kristanna. "I do not know exactly what, but I know it was major. I have been trying to find out ever since I was first with her on Wednesday afternoon. As for what is wrong now, I think you talking in such glowing terms about your family upset her a little bit. I think she is jealous. Devon wants her parents, her whole family, to love her. From what little she has told me thus far, most of them do not. I am still trying to find out what the exact problem is."

"Ohhhhh..." Kristanna pined in a sympathetic tone, looking at Devon ahead of us. "How could anyone be mad or not care about dat girl? She be so sveet, so nice, so friendly."

Suddenly, Devon turned around and began walking back toward us. Once the distance was closed, she grasped both of Kristanna's wrists and implored, "I'm sorry. I really am. I had no right to snap at you and storm off like that." An apprehensive expression came to her lovely face as she requested, "Could you please forgive me?"

Kristanna smiled at her. "I vill forgive yew under one condition, and one condition only."

"What?"

"Dat yew sit in me lap during da picnic."

Devon laughed. "I'm not sitting in your lap!"

"Yes yew are," Kristanna notified her, being her usual zany and energetic self. "But of course I forgive yew, Devvy. Yew vay too sveet and sexy to be angry at."

Her eyes wide, Devon giggled and shook her head. "This island, coming here ... it was the best decision of my life. Bar none. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would have beautiful women talking to me this way."

Kristanna grinned. "Yew dink me beautiful?"

"Are you insane?" Devon asked. "Of course I do!" Those words brought a definite smile to the Norwegian's elegant face as Devon added, "Before coming here, I had never been with another woman in any capacity whatsoever. Now, just one week in, I've had sex with two and kissed five."

"Voo are da lucky ones?" Kristanna wondered.

"Amy and Camille for sex," Devon answered. "Kisses, there is you, of course, as well as Pamela and Lindsay. Amy and Camille too, quite obviously. The only girl here that I have yet to kiss or do anything else with is Trish. Trish is so focused on Lindsay, though, that I wonder if she even realizes that there are other people on the island, too."

"Tell me about it..." I bemoaned.

"Trish vas telling me dat little Lindsay stepped right out of her ultimate fantasy," Kristanna offered. "She loves dat girl vid all of her heart. Trish vould go to all four corners of da globe to make Lindsay happy."

"Lindsay is a real sweetheart," Devon commented, as the three of us made our final approach toward the sparkling beach. "I never knew just how sexy teen-age girls like her are until I got to be much older. When I was younger and her age - 18 - I was attracted to older guys and girls."

"Is tventy-tree a good age for yew?"

Devon laughed. "You're 23, Krissy! Yes, of course. 23 is a wonderful age. A friend of mine is 23. A new friend, actually. She is so beautiful, so sexy." Devon paused and added, "She is from a different country too - Norway. She has a great attitude, is very funny. Name starts with a K."

Kristanna smiled. "I am sure dat yewr FRIEND really appreciate yew talking in such glowing terms about her."

"And she has a funky accent, too!" Devon chirped.

-------

"I am sure that growing up on a farm is a far cry from growing up in the city," Devon said to Kristanna, perhaps an hour or so after our picnic was over, as the two ladies lay on the beach in close proximity to me over a collection of towels. The three of us had been basking in the glow of the sunlight and sharing idle chatter for quite some time.

"Oh, it be very different," Kristanna told Devon, looking over at her. "Papa alvays had me doing yobs and chores for him. I could drive da tractor and vork all da big machinery by da time I vas ten years old." Kristanna giggled and shook her head. "I remember one time ven I vas 11, I vas showing a friend of mine, Erika, how I could drive and use da forklift. Actually, I vas showing off." Kristanna giggled again. "I drove one of da forks from da forklift right true Papa's new cold storage unit by accident." Devon gasped and brought both hands to her mouth as Kristanna ended, "Let me yust say dat Papa vas not all too pleased vid me dat day."

"Oh my God!" Devon exclaimed, still holding both hands to her mouth. "You must have been in a lot of trouble!"

Kristanna laughed. "Ya ... yew could say dat too."

"Tell her about the top floor of your barn," I suggested.

Kristanna nodded her head and spoke to Devon, "Erika, voo vas me partner in crime ven I vas little, helped me build a loft on da top floor of me family's barn-house. Ve turned it into a clubhouse vitch could fit four, maybe five people so dat ve could sleep dare at night during da veekend."

"Did you ever take a roll in the hay up there?"

Kristanna smiled at Devon. "I vould have liked to take a roll or two in da hay vid Erika, but she did not sving dat vay. Ve vere platonic friends. Still, I learned an awful lot up in dat old barn vid udders. I had many adventures vid bode boyfriends and girlfriends up dare. Da barn has alvays been me own personal sanctuary. Even today, I vill spend a night up in da barn, sleeping, once every couple of veeks. It bring back many good memories every time I go dare."

"So you still live at home with your parents?"

"Oh yes," Kristanna responded. "Da entire lower level of da house is all but mine, so it be like having me own place."

"Kristanna is age 23 and lives in her parents' basement," I told Devon, grinning. Kristanna, in turn, held up a fist at me and waved it about because of my playful dig at her.

"I have all da privacy dat I need," she said to Devon. "I vork for Papa too. I run da ice cream parlor on da farm. Dat is me only yob. No reason to get anudder yob."

"I have never heard of a farm with an ice cream parlor," Devon mused. "Yours must be unique."

"Dare is almost everyding on our farm," Kristanna informed her. "First off, believe it or not, but it be 800 acres big. It be one of da biggest farms in all of Norvay!

"800 acres?" Devon confirmed, her blue eyes wide.

"Ya," Kristanna nodded. "Ve sell fresh fruit to grocers and consumers alike. Vullsale, retail, pick-yewr-own. Dare are people voo come from all over da area. Dare is a petting zoo for young kiddies, a bakery, flower shop and da ice cream parlor dat I be in charge of. Business be very good. Papa has many truckloads of fresh product going out every veek. Ve make great profit, but it be very hard work. Very hard."

"Are you going to run the farm yourself one day?"

Kristanna grinned and shrugged her shoulders at Devon. "Perhaps ... I do not know. I know Momma and Papa vould like it if dey could pass da farm along to me. I am dare final hope to keep da farm in da family. I have sister, Tekla, but she be 40 summers old and has tree children, and has life avay from da farm. She never got into da vorkings of it and helped out quite like I did. I love farm life!"

As the ocean waves lapped the shoreline some 50 feet away from where the three of us were lounging on the beach, Devon turned her face toward the water and admired the sight for a couple of seconds. Then, she glanced back at us and smiled brightly. "Is this Heaven?"

Kristanna grasped Devon's left hand with her right and brought it to her lips for a kiss. "No, it not be Heaven. But it be as close as yew can get vidout really being dare."

Holding Devon's other hand as I lay on the opposite side of her, I brought it to my mouth and offered a kiss of my own. "I feel like I've been in Heaven this past week."

Kristanna giggled while looking over at me. "Yew are da Emperor of dis island. An island vid seven hot chicks. No vunder yew feel like yew are in Heaven, crazy Jeremy."

"Chicks?" Devon asked.

"Vell, six hot chicks," Kristanna corrected herself. "Six hot chicks and one goddess. Devvy, da Goddess of Beauty."

"Oh my Lord!" Devon huffed, laughing. She shook her head at Kristanna. "I think Aphrodite is the Goddess of Beauty. Actually, love, beauty and sexual rapture. Not me."

"You know your Greek mythology," I noted. "Impressive."

"Den yew must be descendant of Aphrodite," Kristanna told Devon. "No voman alive any sexier dan yew."

Devon sat up upon the beach towel and gazed down at her new friend. "Are you trying to seduce me, or something? All of these nice words and compliments from you lately." Kristanna simply smiled at Devon as the young woman from Pennsylvania went on, "Because if you are trying to seduce me, you're doing an excellent job of it."

Kristanna reached out and gently placed her right hand onto Devon's thigh. "Nudding vould make me happier right now dan to be vid yew. Yew and..." Kristanna glanced over at me and concluded, "Jeremy. Da two of yew, togedder."

Devon's blue eyes were suddenly flashing with arousal. "A three-some? Right now? That sounds incredibly hot." She grinned at Kristanna and crooked a finger her way. "If you want some of me, baby ... then come get some."

Kristanna did not need to be told twice. She immediately leaned over and settled herself atop Devon's body, then found her lips with her own for a searing, tongue-filled kiss. I watched with interested eyes as Devon soon reciprocated by wrapping both arms around Kristanna's thin, graceful body, only to then slide a hand southward and maul that firm, drum-tight ass with it. My own body started to vibrate with pleasurable sensations as I was witness to the heated sounds of passion these two ladies made through their frenetic kiss.

I could forever sit here and watch these two exquisite women trade their lips and tongues between their open-mouthed kiss. I was content to do so too, before I felt a soft hand on my kneecap. Now out of this temporary trance, I looked downward and realized that Kristanna was massaging my knee with her left hand. Although she was still kissing Devon, Kristanna raised a finger and motioned for me to join them.

After sitting up, I leaned over to the side and gently caressed and stroked Kristanna's shoulder blades, as well as the back of her neck. With my other hand, I trapped several strands of her silky-smooth blonde hair between my fingertips and tugged on them rather playfully. I even brought a few of them to my lips and offered the long tresses a kiss.

Devon used her right hand to generously cup and squeeze one of Kristanna's firm, modest breasts through the purple top that she had on. When Kristanna moaned in response, Devon added her left hand to the mix as well. Now, she fondled Kristanna's luscious breasts with both hands. "Does that feel good to you, sweetheart? Sure feels good to me."

Kristanna nodded her head in approval, her gaze literally piercing a hole through Devon's eyes and soul. "I love yewr breasts," Kristanna purred, sliding her hands between their pressed bodies and latching onto Devon's full mounds through the pink blouse she wore. "Dey are so big!"

"I love your body the way it is," Devon swooned, tapping Kristanna's nose with a fingertip for added emphasis. "So tight, so firm. How tall are you, Krissy?"

"5-foot-11."

Devon giggled. "An amazon. I am only 5-foot-3." She slid a hand downward and caressed one of Kristanna's thighs with it. "Being so tall means you have long, long legs. Hmmmmm ... those legs are perfect. And they feel like silk."

Kristanna placed both hands onto Devon's face and held it lovingly. "I dink yew are so adorable, Devvy. Maybe Lindsay stepped out of Trish's ultimate fantasy, but I could say da same for yew. Yew stepped right out of me ultimate fantasy."

"Ohhhhh..." Devon sighed, grinning broadly. Kristanna had obviously taken my advice from last evening about being up-front and honest with Devon. She was shelling out the compliments at a quick-fire, rapid pace. In the voyeur room last night, I told Kristanna that Devon seemed to not only appreciate people who were totally open and forthright with her, but plenty of positive encouragement as well. I advised Kristanna not to be shy or hold back in what she said to Devon, either. Suffice it to say, she had listened to me. Devon was being bombarded with compliments from all angles.

"Vat do yew need, Jeremy?" Kristanna murmured, suddenly turning her gaze toward me and extending her arm at the same time. "An open invitation? Come over here and yoin us."

Kristanna took the initiative by hopping into my lap and hooking an arm around my lower back. Devon rose up to her hands and knees, then giggled and crawled closer to us. She immediately honed in on Kristanna's mouth with her own for a soft, tender kiss. My cock was definitely hard as I watched these two luscious ladies swap tongues together just in front of me. At the same time, I openly groped various portions of Kristanna's lean, jet-stream body. She was so gorgeous...

An instant later, my eyes went wide as Devon lunged at Kristanna - tackling her and knocking her off of my lap. The two angels landed on another beach towel and promptly began to assault and attack each other's mouths with their own.

"Oh my..." I moaned out loud, getting a tempting glimpse of Devon as she hovered over top of Kristanna on her hands and knees. Her sweet ass, which was concealed only by a pair of snug-fitting shorts, was staring me right in the face as she was bent over. Suddenly, I wondered to myself if that should have been my picnic lunch instead of chicken. I loved the flower-print design of her shorts.

My erection was full and raging as I kept an eye on that tight, picture-perfect ass. Meanwhile, Kristanna and Devon continued to eagerly kiss and grope one another with their roaming hands. Clearly, they enjoyed being together. There seemed to be a certain, undeniable chemistry between them.

Soon, Devon changed positions. She was atop Kristanna's sternum and gazing down at her with nothing but smoldering lust in her eyes. Kristanna returned the fervid glance with one of her own, while also still holding and squeezing the 27-year-old's full, juicy breasts with both hands. Words could not even to describe how incredibly aroused I was at this precise moment in time. I was content just to watch, but knew that these ladies expected a lot more from me.

When Kristanna made eye contact with me, I smiled, taking that as an open invitation. I moved forward on my knees and, with Devon's back to me, I hugged her and kissed her slender neck and shoulders in a loving way. Devon moaned and tilted her head in response. I then placed my right hand over top of Kristanna's and held it as she continued to fondle the blonde's immaculate breasts.

A moment later, I decided to unbutton and then discard of Devon's little pink blouse. She looked absolutely wonderful in the lacey blouse - no doubt - but I definitely knew that her appearance would only improve with it off. Soon, her white bra was a distant memory as well.

Now topless, Devon shot me a quick look before turning her attention back to Kristanna. When she reached down and cupped Kristanna's breasts with her hands, I made my move. I slid in real tight behind Devon, then wrapped my arms around her slender body and grasped her own breasts with my hands. As I splayed kisses on her neck and shoulders, Devon leaned down and placed her lips upon Kristanna's mouth for their own blissful, open-mouthed exchange. Soon, Devon slipped out of her shorts and G-string, only to then toss them elsewhere. Both garments landed atop her blouse.

I sat back and watched with interested eyes as Devon, who was on her hands and knees over top of Kristanna, worked and explored the Norwegian's mouth with her lips and tongue. Once again, Devon's beautiful ass was staring me right in the face. Even better this time, though, was that her pussy was also on display. That should have been my lunch...

Finally, I had seen enough. I could not take any more of this. After disposing of my shorts and briefs, I grasped my cock with my hand and began stroking it. Of course, my gaze seemed to focus on Devon's pussy, which looked oh-so-inviting as she wiggled her ass in front of me in a provocative way.

The two ladies continued to eagerly kiss, now embracing one another as well. They seemed to be an excellent couple. My body shivered at the sight as I then moved behind Devon, and prepared to mount her in the doggie-style position.

The princess was so involved in her kissing match with Kristanna that she had no idea I was behind her. That all changed, though, once I drove my erection far and deep into Devon's tiny, little pussy. She immediately broke the kiss and screeched out in a fit of mad passion, before turning and glaring back at me with absolute, mad lust in her eyes.

I noticed just beyond Devon's shoulder, Kristanna was looking up at me with one of her patented, joyful smiles. For four years, that smile of hers had warmed my heart and made my senses swoon. Kristanna was an angel to me...

Returning her smile with one of my own, I then grabbed Devon's hips and held them tightly as I started to thrust my way in-and-out of her. The enchantress snapped her head back in response, her silky blonde hair whipping about wildly. She was already squealing rather loudly.

Kristanna cradled Devon's face with both hands and pulled it down to her, so they could share yet another deep-rooted, intimate kiss. Of course, watching Kristanna and Devon swap their tongues together did nothing but cause me to become even more excited than I already was - if that was possible.

Suddenly - and without any warning - I was hammering away at Devon and her sweet pussy as hard as I possibly could.

The stacked vixen broke off her kiss with Kristanna so she could squeal out her erotic anguish and satisfaction for what I was doing to her. My whole universe was centered on Devon's pussy, and my ability to drill it as hard as possible with my cock. My hands, clutching her perfect, shapely ass with a vise-tight grip, did nothing but aid in my cause.

"Fuck her!" Kristanna exclaimed, offering a glimpse of her aggressive side, as she looked up at me. "Fuck her good!"

Devon was grunting and squealing out like never before, which was music to my ears. "OH! That feels so good! OH! OH! Yes! YES! OH YES, DON'T STOP! PLEASE DON'T STOP!"

Kristanna grabbed Devon's chin with her hand and turned her face toward hers, in order to do some taunting. "Yew like Jeremy fucking yew ... right? Oh ya, yew do..." Devon nodded her head in response as Kristanna added, "After he cums in yew, I am going to suck his sperm right out of yewr tasty, 'lil pussy. OH YES I AM..."

With those words, I let out an excited groan. Leave it to the intoxicating Kristanna to get me even more excited.

All the muscles within my body were at work as I pounded my cock into Devon with every fiber of strength I had. It felt as if my cock could explode within her pussy at any given moment, but I did my best to prolong the wondrous feelings and sensations which were swirling throughout me right now. Somehow, I needed to make this last...

Unfortunately, there was no way.

When I felt myself toppling over the edge of release, I thrusted my way into Devon one final time, and buried my cock to the hilt. An instant later, I roared out like a madman as my erection exploded within her like a firecracker.

My world was hazy and disoriented as sperm jettisoned outward from my cock, filling and flooding the young woman's womb completely. At the same time, Devon's loud cries and squeals of passion and lust were somewhat muffled because Kristanna had smashed their mouths together, and was kissing her with great hunger and intensity once again.

I was so excited and aroused that it felt like my body would just spontaneously combust. That did not happen, despite the fact my heart was pounding within my chest at a feverish pace. I could definitely get used to this!

Everything seemed to slow down, however, once my orgasm had reached its peak. It all went downhill from there and with a deep, exhaustive breath, I finally withdrew my cock from the tight, unforgiving clutches of Devon's pussy.

Still upon my knees, I took a step back and collapsed onto the beach towel beneath me ... thoroughly satisfied and happy. I closed my eyes and covered them with an open hand for a brief moment, letting the last, final remnants of sweet orgasm flow and pass gloriously throughout my entire body.

I heard some rustling noises, but paid them no attention as I then arched my back and tilted my head. With the final kinks out, I opened my eyes and literally found myself with a new erection at what I saw happening before me.

Devon was pawing her own breasts as Kristanna's face was now nestled between her thighs, her tongue eagerly lapping away at that hot, velvety slit. Indeed, she was making good on her promise from just moments ago. Kristanna was going to suck all of my sperm directly out of Devon's pussy.

"Oh my..." I moaned out loud, sitting back and keeping an eye on Kristanna as she continued forth with her oral work. With my right hand, I reached out and gently massaged her ass. She still had a pair of black shorts on, as well as a purple top. Hopefully, they would come off soon. But in the meantime, I used my left hand to tenderly stroke her long-flowing blonde hair, as well as her back. Kristanna was so very beautiful. Every inch of her spectacular body needed to be worshiped for hours on end.

The quirky vixen acknowledged my gentle petting of her by reaching out with her left hand and rubbing my knee. I smiled in response, but it was rather obvious that Kristanna was far more interested in delving into Devon's sweet pussy right now. I certainly could not blame her. Who could?

Kristanna did just that, using fingers from her other hand to open and spread apart Devon's swollen pussy lips. The blonde had her tongue buried deep, trying her absolute best to extract every last ounce of sperm which I had deposited into Devon. Devon, of course, was enjoying all of this. She was still massaging her own breasts while rocking her face from side-to-side, continuously moaning and squealing.

Kristanna let out an excited sigh of her own, and then withdrew her face from between Devon's thighs. My eyes went wide with unspeakable desire as I then noticed Kristanna had her tongue out and extended - with a heavy, gooey glob of sperm directly in the middle of it. She moved her face down toward Devon, who opened her mouth and gladly took that delicate, extended tongue inside for a taste.

The pair of ladies kissed one another for quite some time, exchanging and sharing that big strand of sperm between them. However, Kristanna finally let Devon have it for herself. My princess smiled in response as she guzzled the glob down her throat, the look on her face saying that it tasted wonderful.

Kristanna turned toward me on the beach, and her eyes immediately shifted downward - toward my newfound erection. She offered me a knowing smile, then used one finger and pointed directly at her open mouth.

It was obvious what she wanted.

Rising up to my knees once more, I grasped my shaft and moved it toward Kristanna's face. She settled down onto her side and, an instant later, took my cock into her mouth and began slurping away on it with great enthusiasm.

"This island is the greatest thing that ever happened to me," Devon mused in a relaxed tone, her hand snaking around Kristanna's front and squeezing one of her luscious breasts. "Bar none. No doubt. This island really is a paradise."

Meanwhile, I kept an eye on Kristanna and what she was in the process of doing with my hard, rock-solid erection. Of particular interest were her ruby-red lips, which formed a large 'O' around my shaft as she worshiped it orally. I smiled at the sight, while also reaching down with my right hand and gently running my hand throughout her hair. For whatever reason, Kristanna loved it when I played with her hair. I did my best to make her happy at all times.

Holding onto the base of my cock with her right hand, the Norwegian's head bobbed back-and-forth as she greedily sucked and slurped away on me. I still caressed her head with my hand, but now my neck was arched back as I moaned wildly. Kristanna was intent on bringing me toward another orgasm, and this time, she obviously wanted me to spurt off in her mouth.

As if the dual combination of oral sex and her little, pumping hand on my erection could not do the trick, I lost control of myself when I looked down and got just a glimpse of Kristanna as she gazed back at me with her puppy-dog eyes. With that look, she was BEGGING me to unload in her mouth. I could do nothing but oblige her hot, non-verbal request.

As I growled out my orgasmic passion, Kristanna kept her lips sealed tight around my shaft, not wanting any of the sperm to escape or seep out. She was successful in doing so, managing to swallow and guzzle down the whole load. Meanwhile, Devon looked on and smiled in acknowledgment at what she saw. She was quite the happy camper, too.

When Kristanna finally withdrew my deflated cock from her mouth, I leaned down and offered her a kiss on the forehead. "You're incredible, sweetheart," were my heartfelt words, as I then moved back and settled down on the sand. I turned toward Devon and smiled as well, saying, "You're incredible, too. Both of you are. I'm so lucky."

Smiling, Devon looked my way and then at Kristanna. "I don't know about you, Krissy, but something here seems totally wrong. I am completely nude, minus this pair of beach sandals. Over there, all Jeremy has on is a shirt. But you, my sweet angel ... YOU are still fully dressed!" Devon folded her arms and offered Kristanna an impish gaze. "How 'bout we do something about that? Like ... right now?"

"Yew vant me nude?"

"I wanted you nude yesterday," Devon answered. "Now take your clothes off before I RIP them off of you."

Kristanna giggled. "Oooooh ... kinky! Devvy dinks she is hot stuff. Devvy dinks she be a big-shot now."

Devon shook a menacing, yet playful finger at Kristanna. "The last thing you want to do is incur my wrath."

Kristanna giggled hysterically. "YEWR WRADD?" Still unable to control her laughter, Kristanna swatted at me with both hands and added, "Look out, Jeremy! Da WRADD of Devvy vill strike down on us! Ve vill be vanquished!"

I laughed as well. "With vengeance?"

"Yew hot, little ding," Kristanna sneered, as Devon made good on her threat by literally ripping the purple top from her girlfriend's body. Kristanna removed her own bra, then Devon immediately attached her lips to one of those rigid, juicy nipples, and began working it over.

"Now dis is da high life!" Kristanna moaned as Devon continued to lick and slurp away on her exposed nipple. Kristanna looked over at me for an instant and smiled, then planted a simple kiss atop the very crown of Devon's head. As all three of us lounged upon the west beach and enjoyed the mutual togetherness that we were experiencing, Kristanna seemed deliriously happy as she said in her native tongue, "Jeg vil tilbringe resten av livet mitt med begge dere to!"

Devon was suddenly lost. So much so, in fact, that she removed her lips from Kristanna's pert breast and glanced up at her with a quizzical expression. "Uhh ... excuse me?"

"It's Norwegian," I informed her.

"What does it mean?"

Kristanna purred like a kitten and proclaimed, "Yew vill find out ven da time is right, Devvy. Trust me on dat..."



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Chapter 8: Melancholy


The setting was the island at its purest. What was happening there was something even more special.

The northeast beach was one of many quintessential, picture-postcard locations that the island had to offer. With its abundant white sand, swaying palm trees and clear, calm blue water, this crescent-shaped beach was a natural draw for anyone who worshiped the sun. The air of serene tranquility and relaxing harmony that such a place provided was the ideal elixir to heal jaggled nerves and soothe rough tensions. Or, in certain cases, it was a spot for romance.

"Oh my..." I moaned, awestruck, while seated in the plush comfort of my voyeur room. Upon the primary monitor in front of me, Trish and Lindsay were enjoying the scenic wonders and peaceful solitude that the northeast beach offered them. Even better, though, they were enjoying each other.

Gathered together upon a collection of huge rocks and boulders near the water's edge, Lindsay and Trish were slowly grinding and moving together in a beautiful rhythm. Both ladies wore tight, denim shorts, but the sweet and charming Lindsay had already been stripped of her top.

With nothing but a bra on above the waist, the precious 18-year-old squirmed and writhed about in total pleasure as Trish stood directly behind her. Trish, who had on a pink halter top to go along with her denim shorts, squeezed and caressed Lindsay's lush breasts in a repeated fashion.

With the ocean as their backdrop, the two ladies danced and swayed together upon the rocks. It was very obvious to me that Lindsay and Trish were going to take part in a sexual encounter here. It would only be a matter of time. Much to my delight, I had a front row, VIP seat within the voyeur room for it.

Still massaging Lindsay's bra-clad breasts, Trish planted a series of angel kisses along her girlfriend's exposed neck and then trailed her tongue across her shoulders, and down her back. Lindsay sighed and nodded her head in approval as Trish soon dropped down to her knees upon the boulder. She slid her left hand between Lindsay's legs from behind, and caressed her stomach with it. With her right, Trish placed it onto Lindsay's hip and held it there. Then, she kissed and even licked at Lindsay's little ass through the denim.

As she did so, Trish moved her right hand upward and began to massage the blonde's breasts with it. Lindsay again sighed in arousal, this time arching her head and neck as well. Soon, Trish rose to her feet and now used both hands to squeeze and grope away at Lindsay's taut breasts. She splayed some more kisses across that delicate neck and even thrust her pelvis hard onto Lindsay's twitching ass.

Once Lindsay turned her face to the side, Trish was there to meet her. I smiled to myself as the two ladies extended their tongues and kissed in the open air. I just cannot stress how incredibly happy Trish seemed to be right now. She was totally in love with Lindsay.

Their kiss did not last long, however. Trish grasped Lindsay's right hand and brought it to her mouth, then gently sucked and nibbled on her extended forefinger. She then slid one bra strap from Lindsay's shoulder and smiled with pure, carnal delight as a pert, little nipple came into view. Trish wasted no time whatsoever as she curled her head around for a quick, scrumptious taste.

Her long blonde hair blowing about in the wind, Lindsay again nodded her head. The look on her face told me that she was becoming more aroused with every passing second. Trish pulled her other bra strap down as well, but left the whole garment around her midriff. Lindsay's breasts were exposed, however, and that was what Trish wanted.

She used the opportunity to spin around to the front and attach her lips to one of Lindsay's breasts. At the same time, she slid her right hand between Lindsay's firm thighs and caressed her pussy through the denim shorts she still had on. Trish wanted to worship Lindsay, and everything there was about her. Could anyone blame her?

It was not too long before Trish had been disposed of her pink halter top and bra as well. Lindsay, who seemed to be fascinated with big breasts, was taken with Trish's wondrous D-cup. She leaned over and gently feasted on both nipples, licking and sucking them into an erect, heated frenzy.

"Oh God, honey..." Trish sighed as Lindsay slipped a hand between her thighs and returned the earlier favor. Trish's hips bucked and churned about as Lindsay rubbed an open palm over and across Trish's own pussy. But much like Lindsay, Trish still had on a pair of denim shorts.

"God, baby..." Trish screeched. "I love you..."

Lindsay placed a single finger to Trish's mouth and held it there for the time being. "Come on, Trishy ... I have an idea." She grasped Trish's hand with her own and slowly led her down from the boulder. "Follow me."

-------

Not two minutes later, both ladies had gotten rid of the remainder of their clothing and were now wading about in a thigh-deep portion of the ocean. Trish had dropped down her knees within the water and was now fingering Lindsay's bare pussy. Meanwhile, she kissed and licked Lindsay's breasts while the minx purred above her in response.

Once Trish stood up, Lindsay turned her back and dropped to her own knees. She leaned forward and placed both hands in the water. Now on her hands and knees, she grunted and squealed out in desire as Trish began to use a little more force. She jammed a pair of fingers in-and-out of Lindsay's exquisite, little pussy at a rather maddening pace.

"YES!" Lindsay growled, holding a hand to her mouth. "YES TRISH! OH YES! Hmmmmm ... YES!"

Trish used both hands to reach around Lindsay's body and latch onto her breasts, then pulled her back up into a standing position. Just like on the rocks moments earlier, Lindsay's body wiggled and shook in the erotic sensations as Trish pawed and groped her from behind. Naturally, she had one hand nestled between Lindsay's thighs. The pair of probing fingers now caused a series of yelps and squeals to emanate from deep within the young woman's throat.

Switching positions once again, Lindsay and Trish both dropped to their knees in the water and faced each other. This time, Lindsay leaned forward and again worshiped Trish's breasts with her curious lips and tongue. Trish smiled in response, then rewarded Lindsay's forehead with a quick kiss. These two ladies were really into each other!

Their hair soaked from a couple of underwater dunks, Lindsay and Trish made eye contact and then shared their most heated, passionate kiss yet. The pair of goddesses embraced one another and smashed their mouths together, their tongues driving far and deep. Once it was over, Trish placed both hands onto Lindsay's immaculate face and gently caressed it. "Wow ... you're so beautiful."

Lindsay smiled at those nice words, then pressed her lips to Trish's for another soul-touching type of kiss. Both of Lindsay's hands were beneath the surface of the water, so I could not see them. But I figured that she was frigging away at Trish's pussy with them. Why? Her shoulders and arms were moving about in a rough motion.

Lindsay whispered something to Trish, then the two ladies smiled and began moving back toward the beach. They stopped where the water was only calf-deep. Soon, Lindsay proceeded to turn her back to Trish and spread her feet far apart, then lean over and prop herself up with one hand. With Lindsay's bent-over ass now staring her in the face, it was obvious what Trish wanted.

She quickly took a seat in the water and burrowed her face in, then began to eagerly lap away at the intoxicating folds of Lindsay's pussy. Trish paused momentarily, taking the chance to frig and massage Lindsay's clitoris with two fingers. An instant later, though, she was once again licking and swiping away at her with that magical tongue.

Trish changed the routine yet again, this time jamming her fingers into Lindsay in a hard, unrelenting fashion. This, of course, set the little angel off.

"OH YEAH! OH YEAH! Finger me! Finger me!"

"Want more?" Trish squealed, her hand a blur.

"Yeah, more..."

"I got some more for you."

"More ... OHHHHH YES, give it to me. Yes! YES!"

"Like that?"

"OHHHHH yeah ... harder ... Wow, yes! Harder! YES!"

The tide was starting to pick up, but the incoming waves did not seem to bother either of the ladies. They were so into one another that it would not surprise me if they did not even realize the waves were getting stronger.

Once Trish inserted a third finger into the mix, Lindsay started to buck her hips back-and-forth. The move literally caused my heart-rate to multiply. I looked on with wide eyes from the voyeur room as Trish then extended her tongue and moved in for another taste. "Your pussy is so sweet, baby! It's the sexiest, most delicious, little pussy I ever had!"

Despite those words, Trish put a momentary halt to the oral worship. She spun around to Lindsay's front side and offered her a series of heated, passionate kisses.

Both of them traded their lips and tongues for several seconds before moving a bit closer toward the shoreline. Once there, Lindsay took a seat in the sand and, her knees up, spread her thighs wide. Trish immediately dropped down onto her front and moved her mouth in for another taste.

Her tongue in a constant motion, Trish kept her eyes trained on Lindsay's face. "I want to make you cum, baby." She shook her head and added, "What I really want is to jump into your pussy and never come out!"

"Hmmmmm ... OHHHHH!" Lindsay squealed, encouraging her. "Spread it wide open! Put your tongue in there!" Trish did just that, and plenty more. That tongue shifted into erotic overdrive as she again pistoned a trio of fingers in-and-out of her succulent lover. Lindsay, of course, was squealing and grunting like there was no tomorrow.

"OH MY! I'M GONNA CUM! I'M GONNA _CUUUUUMMMMM_!"

As Lindsay arched her neck and back high off the surface, she squeezed her thighs tightly around Trish's blonde head. Lindsay let out a truly deafening roar in the process as her sweet, little pussy exploded in a sea of powerful sensations. Trish moaned in response, her tongue never once stopping its movement until she had lapped up all of the delicious juices. And that, obviously, was not for at least a minute or two. Trish was in no rush for anything to end...

In the aftermath, Lindsay sat up in the water, but kept her thighs spread (and knees wide) so Trish could stay between them. Trish rose up to her hands and knees and met Lindsay's mouth with her own in a series of hot, sweltering kisses. In no time flat, their breathing had become quite ragged as they tried to devour each other's mouth.

When the kiss was broken, Trish had a look of adoration and abiding love on her face. I could tell that she wanted to drop everything right there and ask Lindsay to spend the rest of her life with her. She probably wanted to marry her!

Before Trish could tell Lindsay just how insane she was about her, the 18-year-old offered up another round of heated, passionate kisses. I shook my head at the sight, my cock hard as steel. I wanted to jump right between the two of them and get in on some of this great action myself!

"Lay down for me, Trish," Lindsay murmured, grinning. "I want to taste you."

Her eyes wide, Trish traded positions with Lindsay and made good on the request. Lindsay immediately moved her face between Trish's widespread thighs and went to work.

"Hmmmmm ... your pussy is so tight!" was Lindsay's initial comment, as she inserted a pair of fingers into those lush, velvety folds and began to swipe away at them with her hot tongue. "You taste so good, too!"

As Trish cooed and cavorted out in approval, she grabbed her own breasts and massaged them roughly. The expression on her face simply validated everything that I already knew. Pamela may have been smitten with me. She proved that after our scintillating encounter a few nights ago with her words of devotion. Devon may have been in love with me. That had become pretty apparent over the past couple of days. But for as much as Devon and Pamela seemed to like me, Trish was enthralled with Lindsay a thousand times more deeply.

Lindsay had become a little ball of fire as she swiped and fingered Trish toward what promised to be a memorable orgasm. Although she moaned and squealed, Trish was not as vocal as I would have suspected her to be. Nonetheless, Lindsay quickly brought her to the highest pinnacle of sexual fulfillment. Trish's entire body rumbled and vibrated in the sensations of joyous orgasm, her gaze now squarely locked onto Lindsay. The teen-ager continued to lick and swipe away at Trish's folds until they had been totally cleansed.

Although I could guarantee her satisfaction, Trish sat up anyway and pulled Lindsay into her embrace. Both ladies hugged and clutched each other in a truly fierce manner, smashing their lips together for yet another intensive kiss.

"We need to have sex more often!" Lindsay remarked.

Her brown eyes glowing with a mixture of total lust and undying devotion, Trish groaned and stared at Lindsay. She was so smitten with Lindsay that it seemed as if her entire body was glowing in the sunlight. Trish was in love!

Trish cupped Lindsay's chin with both hands and massaged those lush, ruby-red lips with each of her thumbs. Giggling, Trish bumped noses with Lindsay and again gazed into her eyes. "Listen, baby," she whispered, her mouth mere inches from Lindsay's face. "Have you ever been to Canada?"

Lindsay shook her head. "No. Why do you ask?"

"I live in [City Name]," Trish responded. "It is in the province of Ontario and is not that far from Toronto. I have lived in Canada my whole, entire life. I really love it there." Trish paused for a moment, perhaps unsure of what to say next. If that was indeed the case, she soon came up with the words. "I have a really big home, but I live there all by myself. It would be nice if I ... if maybe there was someone for me to ... to share it with." Trish erased any doubts of who that someone may be by pressing her lips to Lindsay's cheek and kissing her there. "You..."

"You want me to move to Canada with you?" Lindsay asked, her eyes wide and bulging. She was genuinely shocked at Trish's sudden proposal of a possible long-term commitment. Considering her age, that was perfectly understandable.

Trish grinned and licked her lips at the mere idea. "Why not? I love you with all of my heart, Lindsay. I do." The 18-year-old suddenly appeared uncomfortable as Trish added, "I would give you a good home. I would provide for you in every sense of the word. You want to go to college and, if you do not decide to enter the ministry, eventually become a teacher, right? I would not want or even expect you to work. You could concentrate on your university studies and become the best student you could be. Or, you could look into following in your father's footsteps and enter the ministry. _I_ would do all of the work required for us to live and be comfortable, and I would make sure that you have a lot of spending money in your pocket at all times. I would never ask for anything in return from you except one thing - for you to be _my girl_. That is all I would want."

"Trish, I..."

"I would treat you like a princess," the ambitious Canuck interjected. "From the time that I wake up in the morning until the time I go to sleep at night, the thing that would matter to me most is that you have a smile on that pretty, little face of yours. It would really be the only thing that matters to me." Trish paused, lost in thought for a moment. "I would buy you presents, take you sight-seeing ... we could go on vacations. Anything you want, babydoll ... it would be yours. Let ME take care of you from now on. Let ME love you. Give me your heart. I will give you the world..."

I could not read what exactly was on her mind right now, but Lindsay's eyes were still about to burst as Trish took her into her arms and offered a loving, heartfelt embrace.

Regardless, I had a big smile across my face here in the voyeur room. Listening to Trish pour out her inner feelings and emotions for Lindsay was quite touching. I am not one bit ashamed to admit that it brought a few tears to my eyes, either. I sincerely hoped that these two ladies would have a strong, life-long relationship. If anything, I knew that Trish was telling the truth. She would do whatever it took to make sure that Lindsay was well taken care of in life. Every single word out of that woman's mouth was totally pure and sincere, and straight from the heart. I knew that.

"You would get along really good with my family, too," Trish added, once her loving embrace with Lindsay, who still appeared to be shell-shocked, ended. "My mom and dad have known that I am bi-sexual for years. So have both of my sisters, Christie and Melissa. Neither of them are that way, but everyone accepts who and what I am, because they know it makes me happy. They would treat you so well, baby. They made my last girlfriend, Melina, feel like one of the family. There would be nothing for you to hide, feel scared about. We could be ourselves around them and not worry about it."

With Trish silent, at least for the time being, Lindsay finally had the chance to speak. Obviously, the little minx was flabbergasted because of what she had just been told. So much so, in fact, that Lindsay stumbled over her words before finally murmuring, "I ... I don't want to leave ... leave O-O-Ohi-o. I ... I love my own ... family."

Trish took a deep breath and seemed to be lost in thought for a brief moment, but then nodded her head as if she had just come to a decision. "I thought you may say that, honey. I know how close you are with your mom and your sisters - especially after your father died last year. I never want to live anywhere else but Canada because all of my family is there, too. I love every single one of them the same way that you love your own family."

Trish nodded her head once again. "But YOU are much more important to me than my family, Lindsay. If you rather live in Ohio, I will gladly move there just so I can be with you." Lindsay gasped and sighed at those words as Trish continued, "I'll sell my house in [City Name] and buy a new one in Ohio. I'll get a job there, too. I'm sure it won't be difficult. After all, I'm a certified fitness instructor with nine years of experience. I'll still take care of you, provide for you. I'll give you more love and affection than you could handle!"

Trish hugged Lindsay to her. "Oh God, baby ... we will be so happy together! So happy!"

Lindsay was so aghast and bamboozled by all of this that she still could not give much of a response. Trish must have sensed this, but seemed to take it in stride. She released Lindsay from her arms and kissed her square on the nose.

"Oh, I know this is so sudden for you," Trish smiled. "I know we have only known each other for one week. Throughout my entire life, though, I have never once been more sure of anything than I am about you and me. Destiny brought us together! How else could I meet the absolute girl of my dreams thousands and thousands of miles away from where I live? You and I came to this island at the same time for a reason, baby. It was destiny. Destiny brought us together."

"I don't care that you're an American and that I am from Canada," Trish added. "I don't care that there is a 12 year difference in our ages. I don't even care if you want to keep our relationship a secret from your family. We could just pose as friends, or house-mates, to them. We'll work through all of that. As long as I'm with you, I'll be fine!"

Trish again hugged Lindsay to her. While this definitely appeared to be one of the happiest moments of Trish's life - first finding the _girl of her dreams_ and then professing her undying love for her - I could not gauge what was going through Lindsay's mind right now. As Trish clutched the nubile young vixen with both arms, Lindsay just sat there with the incoming tide washing up around her. Her face was now emotionless and, quite frankly, her body was trembling.

Wait a minute ... was that a good thing, or a bad thing?

-------

"Are you serious?" Amy said to me, as the two of us were lounging together next to the outdoor swimming pool an hour or so later. "You can't be," she added, shaking her head in a defiant manner. "You're lying to me. It's just too much of a coincidence to be true."

"Of course I am serious, Miss Amy, and it is no lie," I told her in resposne. "You and I grew up in the same town - [City Name] - some 15 or 20 miles north of Cincinnati. And lo and behold, we meet up with each other several thousands of miles away on this picture-perfect tropical island." I paused and added, "You still live in [City Name] today."

"Yes, I do," Amy nodded, seemingly relenting to the fact that I was being truthful with her. "I have lived there for most of my life ... ever since I was age three, to be precise. I was born in Kentucky." She seemed lost in thought for a moment or two, but soon tilted her head at me and asked, "When was the last time you lived in [City Name]?"

"January of 1987," I answered. "I was age 12 and that was when my father got transferred in his job to New Jersey. I was there for six years and he was transferred again, this time to Los Angeles, and I lived there with him and my mom until I branched out on my own and eventually settled on this island some 16 years ago."

"When was the last time you were IN [City Name], then?"

"Just recently, actually," I informed her. "When my mom and dad separated in 1998, my dad stayed in California and my mom moved back home to Ohio - [City Name], actually. It is where she lives today ... I was just visiting her three months ago. It has changed a lot from when I was younger."

"What street does she live on?"

"River Road."

Amy bit her lip and smiled. "That is less than a mile from where I grew up - Bardes Drive. My parents still live in that same house today."

"I think I know where that's at," were my words. "You see, when Kristanna and I were going through the applications for the island several months ago, I noticed that you and I had the same hometown. Well, original hometown for me, at least. It really stood out on the application and caught my interest. I think it is really, really neat."

"Is that why you brought me to the island?" she wondered.

"It was one of the reasons, yes," I replied. "I like it that you and I are linked together, in some small way."

"I have something that is even more strange," Amy mused. "Do you know that I ran into Lindsay two years ago?" I shook my head as she continued, "Lindsay was only 16. I went into the supermarket where she works and bought some perfume from her at the cosmetics counter one night. You know that she lives and works just up the road in [City Name], right? I remember buying perfume from her just like it was yesterday. I had a hot date lined up that particular night."

"With someone other than your husband?"

Amy laughed. "Yeah, I admit it. I was going out with someone other than my husband at the time. Maybe that is why he divorced me. One of many reasons, actually." Amy shrugged her shoulders and said, "After seeing and talking to Lindsay that night, though, I wanted to go out with her instead. I wanted to fuck her so bad. I still remember how tight her ass looked in those little work pants..."

Now, I was the one laughing. "And little did you know that you would meet up with Lindsay again, too - the same place you met up with me. Several thousand miles and two whole years later, here we are. My final choice for coming to the island was Lindsay. It was either her, or another 18-year-old girl from California named Hayden. I debated over it for a while, but chose Lindsay in the end. Lindsay lives just 12 miles away from where you and I grew up."

"Is that why you chose her instead of Hayden?"

"Us Ohioans have to be stick together," I nodded. "Of course, I haven't lived in Ohio since I was 12. Lindsay was six years away from even being conceived when I moved away to New Jersey in 1987. Ohio, New Jersey, California, even a short time in Oregon and now, of course, this island. But I will always think of myself as an Ohioan. I was born there and, more importantly, most of my family lives there today. My mother, sister, oldest brother ... cousins, aunts, and so forth. My other brother lives next door in Kentucky."

"I was raised as an only child," Amy pouted. "I think I was a mistake. I think my mother and father never wanted to have kids. After I was born, my father got a vasectomy."

"How old was he?"

"24 at the time."

I cringed at those words. "I can see where you say that they did not want to have kids. Your father getting a vasectomy so young. Were they ... good parents for you?"

Amy shook her head. "Not really. I cannot say that my mom and dad ever did anything wrong to me, or mistreated me. But they weren't there for me, either. I pretty much grew up alone. I was a latch-key kid from the third grade on. I was cooking and taking care of myself at a very early age. It was a very lonely existence at times. My mom and dad would be working a lot, they'd go out at night, leave me to fend on my own. I got used to it eventually."

"My father got a vasectomy after I was born, too," I told her. "Difference was, though, I was their fourth child, and he was 35. They did not want to have any more children." I paused, lost in thought for a moment. "Actually, I guess I was their fifth child. The fourth was stillborn in 1966, eight years before me. Never had a chance."

"Stillborn?"

"Means that the baby was dead before delivery." Amy groaned as I concluded, "I missed out on a second sister."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Jeremy..."

I decided to lighten the subject. "I think it was the second grade when my father went out and bought me a whole bunch of _Strawberry Shortcake_ Christmas cards to give to all the kids in our class." Amy sighed and huffed wildly in response as I added, "Problem was, _Strawberry Shortcake_ was a doll for girls only. My father did not know that. I wound up giving those stupid cards to everyone in our class. All of the other boys made fun of me - saying I liked to play with dolls." I chuckled at the memory. "It was BAD."

"I had a couple of _Strawberry Shortcake_ dolls," Amy recalled. "Oh my God ... I haven't thought about them in YEARS. I had _Strawberry Shortcake_ herself, _Custard the Cat_, _Huckleberry Pie_, _Hopsalot Bunny_ and _Frappe the Frog_. I think I also had _Apple Dumpling_ and _Tea Time Turtle_." Amy shook her head and giggled. "I wonder what happened to all my dolls from when I was younger. Probably threw all of them into the garbage. I wish I kept them."

"Why is that?"

"They would be collector's items today," Amy commented. "Worth a whole lot of money, you know. What type of toys did you have back in those days, Jeremy?"

"_G.I. Joe_ and _Transformers_," I mused. "I grew up with the _Transformers_. _Optimus Prime_ was my hero. He was the leader of the Autobots." I laughed again. "I cannot believe that we are sitting here, Amy, talking about childhood toys. Of all the things we could be discussing, THIS is it..."

"This is neat, though!" Amy squealed. "This is bringing back so many memories for me! I only wish you stayed in Ohio, Jeremy, and you and I could have met earlier in life. I would have definitely noticed you then. I would have been after you big-time! But you moved to New Jersey in 1987, though, and I was only five years old at the time. Wouldn't it have been something if we were the same age and could have went to the same schools together all the while growing up?"

I grinned at her words. "Were you wild and adventurous in high school like you are now? I heard that you have five boyfriends back home, right now, who gang-bang you each and every weekend. Were you like that in high school, too?" I already knew the answer to that question, of course.

Amy giggled. "The school basketball team had a nickname for me - _B.J._ I went out with all of them. Sometimes, I went out with two of them at a time. Or even three."

"I would have wanted you for myself."

"Really?" Amy cooed. "You like me that much?"

"I wouldn't want my girlfriend fooling around with other guys," I explained. "Other girls, yes ... that would be cool. I could live with that. But not other guys."

Amy shrugged her shoulders. "I've just never found the man who could make me settle down into a truly monogamous relationship, where I would be content and happy forever. I do not think that I will ever find that man..."

"What about your ex-husband?"

"I didn't love him and he didn't love me," Amy sniped. "His name was Eddie, and he was black. The only reason I married him - I know this sounds bad on my part, but it is the truth - is because he had a 12 inch cock."

I shifted about in the lounge chair at poolside, suddenly feeling small and very inferior. "12 inches? R-Really?"

"The sex between us was incredible at first, but it got to the point over time where Eddie could no longer satisfy me," Amy added. "That is when I started to stray, and have sex with others. It led to the destruction of our marriage."

"Did Eddie love you?"

Amy shook her head. "No, he married me for the very same reason I married him - the sex. Being a black man, I was a trophy to him. A white trophy. You know that all black men consider white girlfriends or wives to be a badge of honor. I was a badge of honor to Eddie. A trophy. A WHITE trophy. He loved bragging about me to others."

"If a man has 12 full inches and STILL cannot satisfy you, Amy ... is it even possible to satisfy you?"

"Total satisfaction goes much deeper than sex," she said. "If someone really loved me, cared for me ... and I felt the same, exact way for him, I would be faithful. I would be totally monogamous and committed to a one-on-one type of relationship." Amy shrugged her shoulders and sighed deeply. "You see, Jeremy ... I've never really, truly been in love. And ... I do not think anyone has ever been in love with me. In fact, I know that no one has."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Why do you say that?"

Amy shrugged her shoulders once again, then offered a nonchalant expression. "I think it is because no one, besides maybe my ex-husband, really ever took the time to get to know me as a person. Having sex and getting it has always been so important to me. I guess maybe I developed a reputation for those who have known me throughout the years, and have never been able to shake it."

"What reputation is that?"

"That I'm a slut. A nymphomaniac. Someone who cares about one thing, and one thing only - fucking. No one, I think, has ever taken me seriously because of it."

"Have you given anyone a reason to take you seriously?"

Amy hesitated for a moment, then frowned. "I guess not."

"I take you seriously, Amy," I told her. "You and I have had a neat discussion these past 10 or 15 minutes. Don't you think? Our hometown, childhood toys ... I truly enjoy discussions like this. I really do. Sex is wonderful. I am the first person to admit that. But there is more to life than sex. I think that you need to realize that."

"But fucking is the only thing that I'm good at..."

"Oh ... stop it, Amy," I snapped at her. "You're better than that. I know it, and you know it."

"I think what you and Pamela are developing together is very, very special," Amy said. "I wish that I could have that type of relationship. It would make me so happy."

"You can," I countered. "All you need to do is open yourself up, and let others see the real person inside of you. Not the nymphomaniac that you claim to be."

"Just exactly who is the REAL person inside of me?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. I don't really believe that I have met her yet. But I would like to..."

Amy gulped her throat. "I'm really not sure if I know who that person is myself."

"May I ask you a personal question?"

Amy shrugged her shoulders. "Sure."

"How did you lose your virginity? Who was it with?"

Amy's narrowed her eyes as she looked back at me. "Why would you ask me something like that?"

I shook my head. "Just curious is all."

"With my neighbor when I was 14," she offered. "I left my house keys at school one day by accident ... had no other way to get in. I asked my neighbor if I could stay with him for a few hours until my parents got home from work."

"Neighbor the same age as you?"

"He was 53."

I coughed and nearly choked at the realization. "You had sex with a 53-year-old man when you were 14? _14_?"

"Well, he was really nice," Amy defended herself. "I knew that he liked me. He used to watch me go swimming in my pool from his window each summer. We got to talking that one day I stayed with him, one thing led to another and soon we..."

"I'm very sorry, but I don't want to hear about how a 53-year-old man went about taking advantage of you when you were 14 and still a virgin," I said, cutting her words off. In fact, the mere thought made me incredibly angry.

Amy crinkled her nose at me. "Well, you are the one who asked how I lost my virginity. All I did was answer your question." Was Amy offended that I cut her off like I did? Her arms suddenly folded, it sure did seem that way.

"I'm sorry, dear," I frowned. "You're right, and I am wrong. I just don't like hearing of stories like that."

"Why did you want to know about when I lost my virginity?"

"Really just wanted to know if it was special or not," I informed her. I paused, contemplating things for a moment. "You've had sex with over 50 people in your young life, Amy. You have five boyfriends, all of whom are black, at home in Ohio who like to gang-bang you every weekend. You even told me that you once had sex with 20 guys, all at once. Seems to me that your marriage to Eddie was nothing but a colossal mistake." I took a deep breath and shook my head. "You have led a very hard life, Amy. Haven't you?"

She seemed agitated with me. "What's your point?"

"I just think that, down-deep, you are better than this."

"Better than WHAT?"

"I'm not trying to make you angry, sweetheart. You said that no one takes you seriously. You wish you could have a relationship like the one I am trying to build with Pamela? Those are your own words. Wasn't it fun to just sit here and TALK with me a few minutes ago? Talk about the unique link we have - our hometown, _Strawberry Shortcake_ dolls and _Transformers_? Wasn't it fun to sit here and have a discussion with no sexual overtones whatsoever? To just sit here and talk about silly stuff? You have it in you, Amy."

"Have what in me?"

"The ability to do that," I stressed. "The ability to make people laugh at what you say. The ability to make people be interested in you for something other than sex." Amy still appeared to be agitated with me, so I trapped her right hand between both of my palms and brought it to my lips. After planting a kiss on the tips of her fingers, I looked deep into her eyes and reiterated, "I'm not trying to make you mad, Amy. I'm really not. I want to help you. I want you to be happy. That is all I really want for you."

She tilted her head and offered me a disapproving glare. "And just how exactly do I go about being happy in life?"

"I'm eight years older than you, Amy. I have been very unhappy and depressed almost my whole, entire life - for a wide variety of reasons. I realized a while back that there were certain things that I had to change about my life, or I would never have the chance of being happy. That is one reason why you and all of the other girls are here right now. The past week with all of you in my life has made me happier than I have ever felt before. I have spent the last 16 years all by myself, in total isolation. For that to change, _I_ had to change. I had to take the initiative."

"What exactly are you saying?"

I kissed her fingertips again. "You want to be happy, Miss Amy. You want others to take you seriously. You want others to like you for the person that is inside of you. That will never happen unless you give people a REASON to take you seriously, or a reason to like you for the person that is inside of you." I shrugged my shoulders at her. "Remember last Tuesday? Your second day here?"

"Yeah..."

"We all know that Lindsay is very shy, very humble, Amy. Lindsay was very nervous her first couple of days here, too. Yet there you are, before breakfast Tuesday morning, talking to Lindsay in a fashion that you should not have been doing. What was it? You asked her if she had ever thought about becoming a stripper like Pamela is. You told the girl to her face that you would pay her if you could have sex with her." I shook my head and added, "Amy, the girl was a virgin. You knew that. Very shy, humble, religious. You did not set a very good example for yourself with the others that day. After hearing that, most people would not even want to get to know you as a person. Lindsay is this very sheltered girl from a small town. Yet you tease her about becoming a stripper, you insinuate prostitution with her."

I took a deep breath. "Do you understand what I am saying to you? You want people to like you as a person. In order to do that, you HAVE to do things that will draw people to you. What you said to Lindsay that day, though ... all it did was push the other girls further away from you. They will not take you seriously if you say things like that. Am I the first person, except perhaps Pamela since she is your room-mate, who has sat down and really had a one-on-one discussion with you thus far? There is a reason for that."

Amy's expression was lifeless as she stared back at me for several seconds, her eyes empty. "I ... I've been this way my whole life. I ... I can't change."

"Yes you can," I insisted. "There is nothing wrong with being a little wild, a little kinky, and enjoying sex. Nothing wrong at all. But you have to control yourself. YOU have to watch what you say to others, Amy. Don't let sex rule your life. You even told me earlier that sex is the only thing that you are good at." I shook my head at her and implored, "Both you and I know that is not true."

"What else am I good at then?"

"Amy, we were talking about our hometown and the toys we played with while growing up," I reminded her. "You made ME laugh. You made ME feel good. Nothing we spoke of had any sexual overtones to it. We were having a good, little discussion. I enjoyed that. I enjoyed talking to you that way. I saw a glimpse of the person that is inside of you. I liked her, Amy. Let the others see that side of you."

Amy laughed. "I don't know, Jeremy, whether I should be angry at you for saying all of this crazy stuff to me, or if I should be grateful that you're trying to help."

I released her hand from my grasp. "All I am doing, Amy, is trying to help. One thing you will learn about me is that I am incredibly up-front and honest. I've been more honest than I really should have been with Devon and Pamela. Trish, as well. And now you, of course. Amy, I don't like you telling me that no one takes you seriously or that the only thing you are good at is sex. That is why I said all of these things to you. I gave you my opinion. You have the ability to change whatever is wrong in your life. Before that happens, though, you have to give the effort. Believe me, I know exactly what I am talking about here."

Amy glanced downward as if she feeling hollow inside. "I have never been in love with anyone, my whole life."

"Not even your ex-husband..."

Amy laughed in a negative manner. "Definitely not Eddie. All it was with him was sex. All it has ever been with anyone for me is sex. Pamela and Camille, too..."

"You can have sex and love at the same time," I told her. "Look at Lindsay and Trish. They are ALL OVER each other. Yet, at the same time, Lindsay and Trish are in love."

"Trish is in love with Lindsay," Amy commented. "Not the other way around." I was about to respond to those words and ask what they were based on, but Amy spoke up before me. "I want someone to look at me the same way that Devon seems to look at you, Jeremy. Devon was telling me before breakfast that you are the nicest guy she has ever met. It was like she was glowing. Just glowing. Floating in the clouds, or something. Devon is madly in love with you. Obviously, the same can be said for Pamela. She loves you, too."

I smiled at those words. "You think so?"

Amy sighed. "She denies it - why I do not know - but Kristanna is totally in love with you too, Jeremy."

"WHAT?" I asked, caught off-guard.

"Kristanna is in love with you," Amy reiterated. "I can tell by the way that she looks at you, talks to you. It is all in the body language. She is CRAZY about you, Jeremy."

"Are you serious?" I exclaimed.

"Ask her," Amy suggested, shrugging her shoulders. "The girl will never lie to you. Ask her, and she will tell you."

I nodded my head. "I may just have to do that, then." I contemplated Amy's words for several seconds, then decided to return to an earlier topic. "Have you ever thought about going to see a doctor, Amy? A psychiatrist?"

Her eyes narrowed at me. "A ... a psychiatrist? Why?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Seems to me that it may do you a world of good. You obviously have issues with self-esteem and self-confidence, yet there is no legitimate reason for you to feel that way. You are a very beautiful woman and, as I have learned today, a very outgoing and witty one, too."

"I don't need to see no psychiatrist..."

"The medicine that is out there in the world - available to you if you are willing to give it a chance - it can work absolute wonders for you," I informed her. "Medication can help stabilize your everyday mood, Amy. It can help make you feel better about yourself and, in turn, help others to see you in a much different and better light."

"How so?"

"You told me that no one takes you seriously," I reminded her. "People think that you are a nymphomaniac. That is what you think and perceive. Well, the proper medication would improve your own self-image. Your self-image is what you portray to others. If you think that the general person does not take you seriously, Miss Amy, then you are probably right. You have to take yourself seriously first." I took a deep breath and smiled gently. "A few minutes ago, at least, you took yourself seriously. What happened was, for that short time, you and I had a wonderful discussion. It was silly, fun. If you let others see that side of you, Amy, they would feel interested in you as a person like I did."

Amy offered me a quizzical expression. "I need to talk about _Strawberry Shortcake_ dolls with everyone?"

I laughed at her assumption. "No, not quite. Just open yourself up, and let others see the real person that is inside of you. I really believe that the proper medication would help you out in so many ways, Amy. It would help stabilize your mood, instead of being way up one minute and way down the next. It would help with your self-image ... the way you feel inside. It would help you feel much more confident and at ease with yourself. It would not be so difficult for you to have a normal discussion with people."

"Ain't no pill going to do all that for me," Amy said, her tone defiant. I sighed in response as she continued, "There is no pill in the world that will make others look at me as anything other than a slut ... a cheap thrill."

"The medicine would help improve your self-image and your outlook on life," I stressed. "Having a better self-image of yourself, Amy, means that others will see you that way, too." I sighed again. "Going to the doctor and giving it a try will certainly not hurt you."

"I don't need to go see some head shrinker," Amy told me, using a term which referred to psychiatrists in a negative light. "All they do is sit there and listen to all of your problems, and charge $200 an hour for it."

"It will be my $200," I told her. "You agree to go and see a psychiatrist over in Peru, Amy, and I will pay for it. I will pay for whatever medication you are given, too. I see a psychiatrist myself. The medicine that I take has done a world of wonders for me. There is a really good doctor in Lima. I could get you an appointment with him..."

Amy seemed to contemplate things for a moment or two, but ultimately shook her head. "No. Thanks ... but no thanks."

"Why?"

"Ain't no pill going to help me," she reiterated.

"Amy!..." I pleaded with her.

"Look, I appreciate the fact that you are trying to help," she countered. "A psychiatrist may work for some people, but one would never work for me." I was about to offer her a few more words of protest, but Amy stood up from the table and quickly said, "I think I am going back inside to get a drink. I could use a shot of bourbon. Or maybe two..."

With that, Amy turned and retreated into the mansion.

Defeated (for the time being), I hung my head low and slumped down in the chair. Of course, I based my suggestion that Amy go see the doctor because the profiler software I had used to evaluate all potential applicants before making the final decision on who to bring to the island speculated that she may suffer from _Cyclothymic Personality Disorder_. Thus far, with this being her eighth day here, I had not seen anything from Amy to deter that prognosis.

Not only had I witnessed rapid mood swings from her on several occasions, but Amy was clearly a very depressed individual. Those are the two key signs of someone who suffers from Cyclothymia. The additional fact that Amy was hyper-sexual also hinted that she may indeed suffer from Cyclothymia, since the two were often linked together by medical experts. Even if her exact disorder was not Cyclothymia, there was clearly something wrong with Amy.

Everyone has days when they are feeling unhappy or down. But for those suffering from depression and its related illnesses, that feeling is constant and much more severe. Depression is wanting to go to sleep and hoping that you never wake up. Depression is a deep, dark hole that can swallow a person alive. A hole that keeps getting deeper and deeper until you cannot see the light any more. Just a nothingness that absolutely consumes you and your entire soul. Believe me, I know what I am talking about here. It may very well be the worst feeling that anyone can have.

As I have stated in prior chapters, I suffered from a mild to moderate form of depression called dysthymia. I understood where Amy was coming from in her refusal to seek medical help for whatever specific problem may ail her. I used to feel the same, exact way.

After my ex-fiancee left me in 1993, I went through 16 years of Hell because dysthymia set in and had a stronghold on everything that I did in life. It was not until I met Kristanna, who convinced me that I needed professional help, that I finally broke down and went to see a psychiatrist over on the mainland. Of course, it was literally a fight for Kristanna to finally get me to change my mind and agree to seek help. But she kept persisting and because of that, I could not be anymore thankful to her than I am today.

The medication (_Effexor_) that I took on a daily basis was a Godsend for me. For several years, I felt tired and discouraged at all times. I was physically weak. I was drowning in pain and it was a struggle just to get out of bed every morning. I had lost all interest in life and, to a great extent, even my own family (one reason why I lived on a small, secluded island in the middle of the ocean with no one else generally around in sight).

But once I went to the doctor and began taking _Effexor_, my life and everything about it seemed to change (for the better) over the course of the next couple of months. I had more energy and felt renewed interest in daily activities. No longer was I focusing on the many reasons why I felt my life was not worth living anymore. Instead, I had gained a new perspective on things and was looking forward to what each day presented me with. I was, in essence, alive again.

Now, I found myself on the opposite end of the spectrum. I was the one who would have to do everything that I could to convince Amy that it would be in her best interests if she were to seek some type of help. There was no reason for a woman as beautiful and as potentially charming as Amy most certainly was to feel as if no one cared about her, or wanted to get to know her as a person. No reason at all.



-------

Chapter 9: Rhetoric


I was making my routine rounds throughout the mansion on this balmy Tuesday morning when I heard a series of feminine grunts and yelps emanating from the central room, which was located downstairs. I was overly curious, naturally, and decided that it was time to investigate. Thus, I descended the winding staircase and was quite surprised at what I saw.

Dressed in full workout garb, the duo of Kristanna and Trish were honing their martial arts skills in a friendly sparring match. In addition to their spandex outfits, the two ladies wore protective equipment, including elbow and knee pads, gloves, a chest protector and helmet. I could tell that the contact between them was being kept to a minimum, but still, it was good they took safety precautions.

I had only been aware that Kristanna was an expert in an Israeli form of the martial arts called Krav Maga - a very detailed and effective self-defense system - for a couple of months. It was totally shocking to me - and I certainly do not mean this in a negative way, of course - that a woman as frail and light-weight as Kristanna (5-foot-11 and a mere 115 pounds at her height) could pack such a lethal punch.

Trish, the physical fitness enthusiast from Toronto, looked a little more the part (5-foot-4 and 118 pounds of vixenish muscle). Trish was a student of the martial arts as well, but her specialty was kickboxing. These two ladies were a good fit together like this. Out of all the women on the island, Trish was the only suitable sparring partner for Kristanna because of her experience and background when it came to controlled hand-to-hand combat.

As I stood at the bottom of the steps and watched them trade a series of light (safe) kicks and chops, Kristanna eventually noticed my presence and motioned for Trish to cease. Kristanna slipped her helmet off, then shook her head vigorously and smiled warmly at me. "Hi Jeremy!"

"Sweetheart," I nodded at her, turning my attention toward Trish. The 30-year-old took her own helmet and facemask off, then smiled at me as well. "Miss Trish."

"Hi," she greeted in her usual friendly manner.

Judging by the amount of perspiration on the bodies of both ladies, they had been practicing their skills for quite some time here in the central room. Where was Lindsay? It was rare for me to see Trish and Lindsay apart. Aside from a few instances here-and-there, it seemed as if Trish and Lindsay had been glued together since their arrival.

"Have yew come down to vatch us?" Kristanna wondered, her exotic, sexy accent bringing a smile to my face.

"Sure, I can do that," I chuckled in response. "I have wondered ever since I learned about this side of you, dear ... why? Why do you focus so much of your energy and free time into learning and mastering Krav Maga? Forgive me, but you just don't seem the type cut out for this sort of stuff."

"Oh really?" Kristanna countered in a defensive tone, placing both hands upon her hips and looking at me. "Come over here for a second, Mister Jeremy."

"She's likely an expert in Krav Maga to protect herself from guys like you," Trish suggested, being playful.

Once I made my way over to Kristanna - just as she asked me to - the gorgeous blonde suddenly reached out and grabbed my left wrist. In the blink of an eye, she pulled me toward her, and then I found myself flat on my back. Kristanna had knocked my legs out from underneath me with a sweeping kick, then shoved me backward - causing me to fall down - with a hard forearm upon my upper chest.

Trish laughed and clapped her hands together in glee. "I want to be that good one day!"

Disoriented for a moment, to say the least, I gulped my throat and stared up at Kristanna in a mixture of shock and awe. The Norwegian snickered in triumph, then placed her bare foot upon my exposed throat and held it there gently.

"Do yew still dink I am not capable enough?"

"I never said that," I returned, once again gulping my throat. Kristanna did not injure me physically, but her sudden take-down maneuver still had my head spinning. I could not believe the speed and ferocity of it. I was a good 100 pounds heavier than her, yet she had treated me like a rag-doll anyway. "All I said was that you don't seem to be the type for it. That's all. Instead of a deadly enforcer, you seem to be more the model type."

Kristanna laughed and slowly removed her bare foot from my throat. I then reached up with both hands and grasped that pretty foot, and held it just inches from my face. "If I ever need a bodyguard, sweetheart, the job is yours."

Kristanna snickered once more as I tilted my head upward and planted a gentle kiss on her big toe. I did the same for the arch of her foot, then its heel. "I like dat!" she squealed in response, wiggling all five of her pretty toes.

Trish reached down with both hands and grasped my right arm, then helped pull me up to my feet. Kristanna smiled and brushed up against me, then offered my lips a whispery kiss. "Vould yew still like to stay and vatch us spar, Jeremy?"

"I don't think so," I told her, shaking my head. "I do not want to get caught in the crossfire." Kristanna let out an exaggerated laugh as I added, "Maybe it's best that I go someplace else. Anywhere else. Away from you two ladies. I don't feel like getting beat up again."

"Girl power!" Trish exclaimed, again being playful, as I turned and quickly ascended the nearby staircase.

I am not quite certain whether or not my ego was bruised, but I definitely felt the need to leave Kristanna and Trish by themselves to do their thing. That was the first physical confrontation that I had been involved in - playful or real - in 21 years. I last recall getting into a fight when I was 17 years of age. It involved a dispute over baseball cards.

It felt somewhat eerie to realize that if Kristanna truly wanted, she could take me out without exerting much effort at all. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head at the mere thought. I would just have to stay on Kristanna's good side from now on. Did I really have any other choice?

On the flipside, Kristanna's prowess in the martial arts was something that I should not really concern myself with. It was wonderful that she could defend herself in any type of physical situation. Could anyone blame Kristanna for having such a vested interest in hand-to-hand combat? Young women, especially those as charming and beautiful as my dear and good friend, really need to know how to defend themselves from the cruel predators in today's world.

Still, I had no reason to think all that much about this. Certainly, I should not harbor any negative feelings about this. But as I said earlier, I just found it ... eerie, that a woman such as Kristanna - who was very thin and looked so fragile - could make mince-meat of me in seconds if she so desired. It was a very difficult concept for me to grasp.

-------

Perhaps this should not come as any great surprise, but I found myself back in the voyeur room much later - in the evening - and absolutely glued to the surveillance screen directly in front of me. This place was too addictive!

The image of Amy and Camille was gracing the monitor, with both ladies completely nude as they lounged about in the spa outside. Amy and Camille were huddled close, their luscious bodies pressed tightly together, as they both openly kissed and licked a humongous hand-held dildo between their probing lips and tongues. There was also a mysterious-looking gym bag laying on the ground between the spa and the outdoor pool. It appeared out of place. What was it doing there?

Night-time had already fallen, so the only illumination came from the bright overhead lamps and lights at poolside. It was all I needed to fully watch and enjoy what promised to be a scintillating encounter between these two ladies.

While holding the dildo up, Camille was really into the act of licking and worshiping it with her lips and tongue. So was Amy, as well, as she sucked and slurped on the huge toy at the very same time. Both ladies also took the time to fondle and squeeze the others' body, paying extra-special attention to their full, heaving breasts.

Camille put the dildo down for a moment and then attached her lips to Amy's for a heated kiss. Each of them swapped their velvety tongues and a mixture of saliva over a deep, open-mouthed exchange. Amy moaned shortly thereafter, before encircling Camille's body with both arms and holding her tightly. The simple move only intensified their kiss.

Using the tip of the dildo, Camille prodded it against one of Amy's breasts. She traced circles around the red-head's full nipple, before sliding the big pleasure tool into Amy's vast, deepened cleavage and gently thrusting it up-and-down.

When the two women soon began to rub their heaving breasts upon each other, their shared kiss reached its apex. Camille and Amy were trying to devour one anothers' mouth with their own now, their lips mingling and tongues diving deep. The breathing between them was quite ragged and labored, too.

Speaking of such things, I already had my cock out and was busy stroking it. Watching two beautiful women such as Amy and Camille heat each other up like this was intensely arousing for me. It would be that way for any normal man...

My excitement level doubled once Pamela suddenly appeared on the monitor. She walked into the picture, standing just above Amy and Camille as they were huddled close together in the steaming spa. The pair of lust-lovers broke their kiss long enough to glance up at Pamela and motion for her to join them in the spa. Pamela smiled at the couple while rubbing one of her big breasts through the bikini top that she wore.

Amy reached for one of Pamela's ankles and gently tugged at it, wanting her to step into the spa. Still smiling, Pamela did just that. She took two steps into the heated whirlpool, then was yanked downward by both Amy and Camille. The pair of ravenous hellcats brought Pamela between them and immediately went to work on her hot, voluptuous body.

Pamela moaned with obvious arousal as Camille whisked her bikini top off in one easy motion, before attaching her mouth to one of those lovely breasts. Pamela continued to moan and sigh in desire until Amy hushed her with a kiss.

With the two ladies on either side of her, Pamela squirmed about as she and Amy shared a rather intensive kiss. At the same time, Camille continued to worship the blonde's breasts with not only her lips and tongue, but her hands as well.

Pamela squealed against Amy's piercing kiss as her body started to vibrate about within the swirling water. I then realized that Camille had slipped a hand between Pamela's thighs, and was busy thrusting a couple of fingers hard and fast into her sweet, intoxicating pussy. Camille must have also slipped off Pamela's G-string bikini underwater.

Once Amy broke the hot kiss with Pamela, her lips were quickly replaced by Camille's. The dark-haired beauty drove her tongue deep into Pamela's inviting mouth, tasting its vast, delicious recesses while also luxuriating in them.

Amy used the open opportunity to clutch and squeeze one of Pamela's breasts with her right hand, while sliding her tongue over and across the 30-year-old's delicate shoulder.

Camille produced the dildo she and Amy had been sharing earlier, before breaking the kiss with Pamela. Then, she shoved it into the stripper's mouth and giggled. "Suck that cock, baby! Get it all nice and hard!"

Pamela's eyes were wide as she looked at Camille, who continued to giggle and sneer while thrusting the thick, 12-inch dildo into her hungry mouth. I could tell that Pamela was also well aware of Amy, who continued to fondle one of her breasts while swiping its nipple with her tongue.

"What do you think, Amy?" Camille asked, a huge smile on her face. "You think Pammy here needs to be fucked?"

Amy giggled while pulling her lips away from Pamela's breasts. "Yes! I do!" She paused and added, "I really think that she needs a strap-on, though."

Pamela moaned and squirmed about in sheer arousal as Camille snickered, "Better yet, I think Pammy needs TWO strap-ons." She leaned over and offered Amy a quick kiss before adding, "Think we should double-fuck her?"

"Oh yes," Amy replied, grinning. "But I want her ass."

With that incredibly naughty exchange of words, my stiff, throbbing cock suddenly exploded all over my wrist and hand. My heart was pounding within my chest as I leaned forward and re-played their quotes in my mind. Amy and Camille were going to double-penetrate Pamela with two strap-on dildos? Was that what the gym bag was laying there for? Was it, by God, a bag full of ... toys? SEX TOYS?

"Would you like us to double-fuck you?" Camille said to Pamela in a demeaning tone, while still thrusting several fingers hard and fast into her pussy within the whirlpool. "Me and Amy would fuck you REAL good. Want that, Pammy?"

Pamela's only response was a whimper, followed by a nod of the head. I could tell that she was really turned on right now. I was also glad that Pamela had showed up and changed this from a one-on-one encounter into a three-some.

Camille rose up and stepped out of the spa. I watched intently as she, complete with her nude and soaking, wet body, retrieved the gym bag. Meanwhile, Amy stepped out of the swirling spa as well, followed quickly by Pamela.

My cock was getting hard once again as I was now able to witness the three ladies in all their glorious, naked forms. Amy spread a towel out on the cement deck next to the spa, while Camille found a pair of suitable strap-on dildos from the aforementioned gym bag. She stepped into the harness of one; it was thick and appeared to be 15 or so inches long!

Giggling with an aura of confidence and superiority, the busty Latina grasped the dildo with her hand and stroked it before finally making her way over to Pamela. "On your knees, Pammy! Just like a good, little girl!"

Like a trained submissive, Pamela offered Camille a look of total servitude before dropping down to her knees atop the spread-out towel. Camille's only response was to simply step forward, and plug Pamela's pretty mouth with the big dildo.

"Yeah, suck that cock," Camille said in an abrasive tone. "Suck that cock before I fuck you silly with it."

Camille giggled at her own words as she handed Amy the other strap-on dildo. Not quite as long or thick as its counterpart, this dildo was tailor-made for anal sex. Amy quickly stepped into its harness, and snapped it into place. Now, the red-headed siren had a truly devilish appearance.

I could tell that Pamela was even more turned on than she was just a few moments ago. The wondrously beautiful vixen was on her knees, sucking Camille's huge strap-on dildo as if it were a real cock. Her head bobbed back-and-forth as she took in as many of the 15(?) inches that she possibly could.

Amy stepped forward with her own strap-on secured and in place, and offered it to Pamela. She took it into her right hand and began stroking away, while frigging the larger dildo with her left. All the while, she continually slurped it.

"Look at Pammy go!" Camille exclaimed, snickering. "She must be really, REALLY hungry tonight!"

Pammy? What is up with that? A few weeks ago, I called her Pam during one of our telephone discussions, but she quickly corrected me on how to pronounce her name - Pamela. It seemed to be a pretty big deal with her, too. Now, it appeared as if Pamela had no problems with Camille as she continually used a somewhat degrading version of her name.

"Yeah baby," Amy said as she stepped closer, pressing the tip of her dildo onto Pamela's face. As she busily slurped away on Camille's pleasure tool, Pamela looked at Amy and smiled. Amy responded by running the thin dildo over and across Pamela's face, and through her silky hair.

"Pammy needs a FUUUUCK ... ing," Camille snickered. "Oh! Make that a double-fucking. Her pussy, AND her ass!"

"Oh God..." Pamela moaned as Camille withdrew the strap-on dildo from between her lips. Camille then dropped to the ground, and positioned herself upon her back. With the enormous dildo pointing directly upward from her pelvis, Camille motioned for Pamela to settle down and take a seat.

My cock was at full strength yet again as Pamela dropped to her knees astride Camille's hips. She positioned herself for entrance, then squinted and moaned with sheer abandon as the head of the incredibly thick dildo popped into her. I could sense her passion as she began squealing, while also settling deeper and deeper upon the humongous pleasure tool.

When about 10 to 12 inches was embedded deep inside her, Pamela must have sensed she could take no more. Growling with desire, she leaned forward until her breasts were nestled snugly against Camille's. Flat on her back, Camille then smiled before finding Pamela's mouth for a heated kiss.

I continued stroking my hard cock as Amy smeared an ample helping of lubricant over and across her own strap-on dildo. She then dropped to her knees behind Pamela's upturned ass, and inbetween Camille's widespread thighs.

Pamela squealed uncontrollably once Camille started to pump her hips, thrusting the tremendous dildo further into her pussy. At the same time, Camille kept both arms fastened around Pamela's neck and shoulders, keeping her close and tight, while also devouring her delicious mouth with her own.

A bit more foreplay here would have been especially nice. I really enjoyed watching Pamela suck that dildo on her knees as if it were a real cock. But I could not complain. Camille wanted to stuff Pammy - and no one could stop her.

Also, I noticed that despite a few earlier words, Amy was being strangely quiet. Normally, she was the aggressor...

Pamela was now screaming in response to the hard thrusts which Camille gave her pussy. Her screams, as well as her passion level, increased ten-fold once Amy decided it was finally time to insert her own dildo into that tight rectum.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Pamela roared, breaking her shared kiss with Camille. Amy giggled and swooned with arousal as she slid inch after inch of the dildo into Pamela's bowels. The insatiable 30-year-old only stopped once she had stuffed the entire length of the dildo deep inside of Pamela's ass.

"OH YEAH!" Pamela screamed out, her body starting to churn as Camille resumed her thrusting motion. "OH FUCK YEAH! THAT FEELS GOOD! FUCK ME, BABY! FUCK ME HARD!"

When Amy joined the parade and began thrusting away, I had to take a deep breath as my heart pounded yet again. The mere sight of Amy's big breasts as they bounced and shook about while she busily slammed her dildo into Pamela's ass from behind nearly blew my mind (among other things).

"Bitch in heat!" Camille screamed, laughing, while keeping an eye on Pamela's facial reactions. "Bitch in heat! Look at her go! Go Pammy, go! Go Pammy, go! Go, Pammy, GO!"

It seemed as if Pamela's entire body could explode at any given moment. Amy and Camille were absolutely hammering her, with one dildo violating her pussy while another was stuffed deep inside her ass. Both ladies were thrusting and pumping away at Pamela with all of the strength within their bodies.

At the same time, Amy latched onto Pamela's rounded ass with both hands, then started to slap it in random places. "She needs a spanking!" Amy exclaimed, grinning, as she helped turn Pamela's sweet ass a bright, crimson red.

"Oh yeah!" Camille moaned as she sought out and found Pamela's vociferous mouth with her own. She kissed her roughly, but that did little to muffle Pamela's screams.

The double-penetration continued for several seconds, as Amy's own brand of discipline became even more severe. She made Pamela squeal with each hard slap on her ass, which obviously only added to her already intense passion level.

"OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA CUM!" Pamela finally thundered out. "OH GOD ... DON'T STOP ... DON'T YOU DARE STOP FUCKING ME!"

Bearing down, Amy and Camille followed through on that request as they viciously pumped her with those big dildos. Pamela's body shook and shivered for an instant, then she let out one final scream before collapsing on top of Camille and going absolutely limp. Then - and only then - did the pair of dildo-wielding hellcats withdraw themselves from Pamela. She had been satisfied - and thoroughly drilled.

I was sweating profusely and breathing hard in response to what I had just witnessed. I will go out on a limb here and say that was the most powerful orgasm of Pamela's life. I do not see how anything could have been more intense.

Camille wiggled out from underneath an exhausted Pamela before whispering something into her ear. Pamela nodded her head, then was greeted by a kiss on the cheek from Amy. She obviously needed some time to recover.

Sensing this, Camille turned toward Amy and smiled at her. She glanced down at the humongous dildo which protruded from her pelvis, then offered Amy another smile. Amy got the cue as she then unsnapped her own strap-on dildo and let it fall harmlessly to the ground.

"Now it's your turn to be fucked..." Camille smirked.

I continued stroking my erection as Camille spread out a large towel on the other side of the whirlpool. She pushed Amy down on top of it, onto her back, and then mounted her in the missionary position. An instant later, Camille had the dildo shoved far and deep into Amy's burning pussy.

From the very start, the energy level between these two lovely ladies was very high. Amy encircled Camille with both arms and held onto her tightly as their bodies were slapping so hard and violently together that I could actually hear the noises that were being created as a result.

"FUCK ME!" Amy pleaded, screaming. "OH YES, FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARD! FUCK ME! OH GOD YES, FUCK ME! FUUUUUCK!"

Finding enough strength within herself to do so, Pamela had turned her face toward the intense coupling. With a hand stuffed between her thighs, and several fingers twiddling away on her little clitoris, Pamela could not help but to masturbate. She certainly was not alone in that regard. (!)

Camille showed no mercy or tenderness as she absolutely blasted Amy with the monstrous strap-on dildo. The Mexican also held onto Amy's large, heaving breasts and used them as balancing points as her hips continually hammered away.

As Amy screamed out her orgasmic pleasure just seconds later, I moaned along with her while my cock erupted like a raging volcano. Sperm shot out and leaked all over my hand and wrist again, as well as my legs, as Amy went through a very powerful and explosive orgasm of her own. She held onto Camille with both arms and hugged her rather fiercely, while her mouth shot out expletive after nasty expletive.

Once Amy's body eventually settled down from her intense release, I noticed that Pamela was up and about, and busy sifting through Amy's naughty bag-of-toys.

For an instant, I imagined what Pamela would look like with a huge strap-on dildo protruding from her pelvis. What a sight that would be! The thought went away, however, once she retrieved a hand-held dildo from the bag instead.

When Pamela turned and focused her eyes on Camille, I smiled to myself. "Get her!" I said out loud, badly wanting to see Camille get pounded mercifully.

Pamela crawled over to Amy and Camille as they were still locked together in a warm embrace next to the swirling spa. I squeezed my deflated cock as she did so, trying to pump some more life into it. Pamela's next move was to latch onto Camille from behind and pull her away from Amy.

Surprised for a moment, Camille turned around but was immediately met with a searing mouth-to-mouth kiss from Pamela. The two ladies were quickly writhing together in unison as Pamela undid the harness which held Camille's massive strap-on dildo in place. Now without any support, the crude object fell harmlessly to the ground.

"You're gonna get it!" Pamela warned her girlfriend as she broke the kiss, before pushing Camille down onto her back. She immediately dove face-first between her thighs and started to eagerly slurp away on Camille's pussy.

Moaning in response, the 25-year-old bombshell clutched and squeezed her own breasts, which only added to her level of arousal. I watched with interested eyes as Pamela had two fingers stuffed deep in Camille's pussy as she used her velvety tongue to flick away at her swollen clitoris.

Camille's moans became much louder as she soon clenched her thighs tightly around Pamela's head. Camille continued massaging her own breasts as she lay on the ground, her head up so she could keep a watchful eye on her lover. Pamela surely did not disappoint, as Camille's moans got even louder as she put a vise-grip on her head with both thighs.

Deciding it was time to interject herself into things, Amy joined the couple and made it a three-some. Her pussy needed some service, it seemed, so she swung one knee over Camille's pretty face and then settled down astride it. Amy lowered her intoxicating pussy to Camille's awaiting lips and mouth, and was quickly greeted by a wet, probing tongue.

Pamela watched what was happening, and it made her smile. It also made her up the ante, so to speak, as Pamela then produced the big hand-held dildo she had earlier retrieved from the ominous bag-of-toys. In one motion, Pamela popped the humongous head into Camille's slit, then jammed its entire length hard and deep into her.

The mocha-skinned temptress growled in response as her body tensed in obvious arousal. However, that did not stop her tongue from its hot, joyous exploration of Amy's pussy.

Perched above her, Amy used one hand to run her fingers through Camille's silky-smooth hair, while using her other to grope and squeeze her own breasts. Amy's body was already churning about atop Camille's curious tongue...

"A taste of your own medicine!" Pamela exclaimed, as she began to thrust the gigantic dildo in-and-out of Camille's womanly folds. She too, showed no mercy or even a trace of compassion. Within seconds, Pamela was pounding Camille's overheated pussy at an incredible, alarming rate of speed.

"Calling me a bitch in heat..." Pamela snapped, her arm a blur as she hammered her lust-lover. "You little whore ... who's the bitch in heat NOW?" My eyes widened as Pamela somehow increased the speed and strength of her powerful thrusting motion. "SCREAM FOR ME!"

My cock was suddenly hard once more as Camille's neck and back arched in response to the sensations which swirled throughout her, as she screamed and yelled out her passion.

Pamela thrusted the dildo as hard and as deep as she could into Camille's pussy, then dove face-first once again and eagerly licked away at her engorged opening. The oral work did not last for long, however, as Pamela withdrew her face and began pounding Camille with the dildo once again.

Still nestled atop Camille's face and probing tongue, Amy turned around as if she was on a swivel. Now facing Pamela, Amy leaned over at the waist and found the blonde's chin with her hand. She brought Pamela's face in line with hers, then smashed their lips together for a blistering kiss.

I was about ready to blow yet another spermy load while watching this memorable encounter unfold before me. These ladies were locked in an intense three-some, with Camille being the main centerpiece as she lay flat upon her back.

Camille's face was stuffed full of Amy's hot pussy, who had settled herself astride the vixen's head. At the same time, Amy was turned in a direction so she could keep an eye on Pamela - who was nestled between Camille's thighs - as she drilled the Californian's slit with the large dildo. Amy then took it one step further, however, as she planted her lips on Pamela's mouth for a blissful, rip-roaring kiss.

"OHHHHH, FUCK!" Amy screamed as her sweet pussy suddenly exploded, creaming Camille's elegant face in the process. Amy continued to groan out in undeniable lust for several seconds as she roughly mashed her pussy atop Camille's face. In the meantime, Camille kept busy as she eagerly lapped away at Amy's hot, overflowing folds. She enjoyed the taste...

Once Amy finally removed herself from atop Camille's face, Pamela now had the beautiful Latina all to herself. Pamela seized this opportunity too, as she tossed the big, hand-held dildo off to the side - and into oblivion.

My whole body began to tremble with unspeakable desire as Pamela then secured the 15(?) inch strap-on dildo around her waist and hips. I knew full well what was happening next...

The crude object in place, Pamela latched onto Camille's round ass with both hands and mounted her in the missionary position. An instant later, she was brutally pummeling her with the use of that monstrous strap-on.

It was a bit of poetic justice for me to watch Camille get blasted courtesy of the same strap-on dildo that she had earlier used on Pamela. What made the situation even better was that Pamela was the instigator of it, too. I wanted to watch her absolutely split Camille in half with that thing!

Amy sat back and watched with very interested eyes - as did I - as Pamela continued to hammer and pulverize Camille in the missionary position. Once again, the noise created from the slamming together of their luscious bodies was incredibly loud and highly erotic.

Equally loud was the screams from Camille as Pamela's hips pistoned up-and-down like an engine, while the huge strap-on engulfed the squealy woman's pussy with each inward stroke. Camille's screams were incoherent; I could not make them out.

Still watching the action unfold before her, Amy slipped a hand between her thighs and began fingering her clitoris.

"OH YEAH ... YOU'RE GONNA CUM!" Pamela roared at Camille, her voice loud and ragged. "YOU'RE GOING TO CUM REAL HARD FOR ME!" She went silent for a moment but still thrusted away at Camille. "DO IT! CUM FOR ME! DO IT NOW!"

Responding to those demands, Camille let out a thundering, earth-shaking scream as she gave in to the passion which had built itself up within her body.

With both arms hooked and secured tightly around Pamela's neck and shoulders, Camille screamed again as her hot, little pussy erupted in a fierce orgasm. Her body violently shook and rumbled about in the sensations of release as Pamela slowed her thrusting motion somewhat, but still continued to churn herself into the loud, boisterous 25-year-old.

"OH YEAH..." Pamela growled in the aftermath, grinning, as she stared down at Camille. "You came for me real good, sweetheart. Just the way I wanted you to..."

Breathing deeply, Camille looked up at Pamela and offered her a smile as her body slowly but surely crested downward from the height of orgasm. I caught a glimpse of her eyes, and noticed there was a total look of adoration in them. Pamela and Camille sure did make a nice couple...

Pamela leaned down and placed her lips on Camille's for a gentle, loving kiss while saying with a grin, "I want you to remember one thing, though, honey - my name is NOT Pammy!"



-------

Chapter 10: Veneration




PAMELA

Height: 5'6"
Weight: 120 pounds
Blonde Hair
Brown Eyes
Measurements: 38d-24-35
Age: 30 (bday: Jan. 5)

Hello boys and girls,

I'm Pamela, a natural blonde beauty with the cool personality to go with it. I've been a dancer for several years and LOVE IT!! I've definitely achieved my goal of being the best in the business. Trust me, once you've had me, you won't forget me. I can handle a party of six or 60, and I can promise that everyone will have the time of their lives. I've done shows for both guys and girls and love doing them both! So if you would like to enter my Bad Girl Playground, give me a call and I will be there. If you want a two girl show, I will bring my friend Bambi!

Ta Ta for now, Pamela xoxoxo



As I sat in front of my computer and read that little biography, I shook my head and frowned inwardly. I had been surfing the Internet for the past hour and though I do not remember exactly how, I came across the website of the Baltimore-area strip club where Pamela was employed at. It seemed as if in addition to being a stage dancer who gave lap dances, Pamela was also a private party entertainer. Apparently, she made stripping house-calls.

"Your Bad Girl Playground, huh?" I asked out loud, shaking my head. "And who in the world is Bambi?"

Just about the only thing that brought a smile to my face about this specific web page was the photograph of Pamela that went along with it. In the picture, she was smiling and her vast, ample cleavage was on display. Pamela had on a skintight black t-shirt with a plunging neckline and the phrase Got Milk? etched across its front. The photograph, however, did not show anything below the chest. For a strip club, I thought inwardly, that seemed all-too-typical.

At the bottom of the page, I noticed there were a pair of hyperlinks. One read more pictures of Pamela while the other was Pamela's customer reviews. I realize that most men would click on the picture link without a second thought, but I was far from being your typical, everyday guy.



Dear [Strip Club Name],

I'm taking this opportunity to thank your company for once again making our most recent bachelor party a huge success. My friends and I have been using your company for ten years and yet again we were treated to an evening of great entertainment. The young lady that made all of this possible was the lovely and charming Pamela. She is definitely a star in the making. Pamela is a really sweet girl and left a long lasting impression on all of the participants that evening. I would go out on a limb and say that if anyone who attended our party needs an entertainer in the future, Pamela will be their first choice. Everyone wished that she was booked for two hours instead of one because she made the evening a real success. I would once again like to thank you and hope to continue our association with your company. Pamela made me look very good in front of the guys. They cannot stop talking about it being the best bachelor party they ever attended and I owe it to you and Pamela.

-Tim (Nottingham, MD)

We were lucky enough to be graced with Pamela's presence this past weekend in the DC area. As playful as she was with the entire party - her composure, professionalism and the ability to utilize her leadership skills to dictate the party was exemplary. Pamela was exactly what we were looking for, and we cannot thank you enough. I hope to see you at the wedding!

Pamela,

Thank you for making my boyfriend's 21st birthday party a blast. Including me in the show was great! It was difficult for me to watch you dance and strip for Scott at first because I love him so much, but you wound up making me feel really comfortable with it by asking me to help with the show. Now his friends want to know when I will strip for them again! Gimme a call if you have anything in mind - hahaha. Everything was perfect ... thanks!

-Sincerely, Tanya

We would recommend Pamela to anyone wanting the best performer for a live act. Pamela is also a great actress who can role-play any character that you want. She listens to the instructions you give her, is very prompt in returning your phone calls (she called within minutes after I called [Strip Club Name] and selected her), was early in her arrival and had everything ready to go. Not to mention she is even more beautiful and stunning than the pictures on your website suggest. After the show, the people at the party agreed that Pamela bent over backwards (literally) to please everyone and was very attentive. Even her two bodyguards were totally professional. Try Pamela at your next event. If you do, you will be extremely satisfied.

An Adoring Fan

Just wanted to give much thanks to Pamela for putting on an awesome show for us on Saturday, March the 31st. All of the guys had a great time and it made for a memorable evening and a memorable bachelor party. Thanks again.

--Malik from Baltimore

To whom it may concern,

I'm taking a few minutes from my lunch hour to send a note about one of your entertainers, Pamela. Last night, I attended a birthday party for a friend of mine and Pamela was a surprise guest. This note is not a critique about her body, or how everyone got all riled up when she arrived. It is more about what I thought was a woman who brings respect to adult entertainment. I have been in more strip clubs across the USA and abroad to fill a lifetime, so I am not easily impressed. My comment about Pamela is that I was impressed with how well she conducted herself in a very professional manner, as well as her sincere, non-soliciting personality. Many dancers, in my opinion, make it clear that it is all about the money. Pamela was different because I think she was successful in performing, being genuine, very professional and mature, and was compensated without blatantly soliciting. Let me end this by saying that when I arrange a bachelor party for another friend of mine come two months from now, I will most definitely call [Strip Club Name] and request Pamela.

Thank you for reading ... Joseph

Pamela,

Just wanted to say thanks for coming out to Irvington a few weeks back and putting on a fabulous show for all of us. Everyone had a great time (especially the groom-to-be), and I hope you did as well. I also wanted to apologize for the inappropriate remarks made by one of the boys. Although Larry was drunk, he had no business saying something so totally ignorant and disrespectful toward you. If it is any consolation, your email address - HotandSexy@[Strip Club Name].com - sums it up, but it left out a few things like great smile, great body, great personality, etc. I think you get the point.

Thanks again for an excellent time, Dennis

Pamela was amazing! Incredible show. Top to bottom, absolutely perfect. Her pictures do not do her justice. Thanks for kicking off my man's bachelor party with a bang. Went to Atlantic City after the show. Not one dancer up there came close to her.

4/21/2012

I wish we had made Pamela and Bambi the final act because their show was impossible to beat, especially the sex toy/lesbian skit. They worked together very well and had all of us wondering if they were really together. Every mouth in the house was watering. Bambi was very funny and outgoing. Pamela dominated the attention of any man that she set her sights on. It's a good thing that we had a 30 minute intermission before the next show because everyone needed to cool off. As a final note, the pictures on your website do not do Pamela justice. She is HOT HOT HOT! Now I just have to get another of my buddies married so I can book Pamela and Bambi again.

I just wanted to let you know that PAMELA did a show for our buddy's bachelor party this past Saturday afternoon and did a fantastic job. Not only was she on time and prepared, but she was just as gorgeous as advertised. Her absolutely adorable, feisty attitude topped off her perfectly toned body and beautiful, smiling face. Pamela made sure that everyone was having a blast. As for the show ... well I think our poor bachelor might be reconsidering. Nice work! We could not have asked for a better dancer.

CDL 5/18/12

Yo [Strip Club Name],

Just wanted to say that Miss Pamela was the Shiznittle Bam Snip Snap Snabba tonight! She made the voyage all the way down to Salisbury for a night of craziness. I really do think that Pamela is the woman of my dreams. I would give anything in the world to have such a fine, fine woman as my very own. Thank you Pamela and please come down to party whenever you feel like getting silly. Always remember that the HBZ boys here at SU love ya!

With blue balls and wet dreams, Turner



As you can see, I clicked on the link for customer reviews instead of viewing more photographs of Pamela. The reviews, though quite complimentary of Pamela and her work, made me feel sad and depressed inside. Pamela seemed to be too good and too classy of a person to be flaunting herself to total strangers in strip club rooms and on the party circuit.

As a member of Mensa, Pamela was also incredibly smart. The 30-year-old was ranked on the Dean's List at the Maryland university that she attended. Nothing against strippers, of course, but Pamela did not seem the type to be cut out for this line of work. From what I have gathered thus far in over a week of being around her, Pamela was incredibly warm and kind-hearted. She was not cold and abrasive, which is another stereotype that goes along with her line of work. Pamela was also - believe it or not - somewhat reclusive and shy. I wanted to get Pamela to open up to me even more than she already had. I wanted to know everything about her.

"Shiznittle Bam Snip Snap Snabba?" I asked out loud here at my computer, dumbfounded, glancing at the final customer review one more time. "What in the HELL does that mean?..."

-------

"I want to dance for you right now, Jeremy."

"Are you sure you want to do that for me?" I asked Pamela a bit later that morning, wanting and needing confirmation. "Do you really want to give me another lap dance?"

Pamela laughed and replied, "Of course I want to dance for you, Jeremy." Little did Pamela know, however, that I had baited her into a discussion about her career over the past 30 minutes. After viewing her portfolio on the strip club's website, I was overly curious about everything. Most of all, I was curious as to why a beautiful and intelligent woman such as Pamela had chosen exotic dancing as her career. Pamela was much better than the negative stereotype that went along with being a stripper. She was, in my eyes, an angel.

As we lounged outside upon the deck which flanked my private suite, I offered Pamela a smile and asked, "Would it be too much to ask if you were to treat me like a customer?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'd like for you to treat me like a customer," I told her again. "I want you to treat me like a patron at that club you work at in [City Name]. I've never been to a strip club before, so I have no idea what those places are like. Well ... I do have some idea, I guess, but not really." I nodded my head and concluded, "You know what I mean."

She grinned at me. "Like a customer, huh? You want me to take your money, too?"

"I want you to treat me like a customer," I reiterated. "I want you to take my money, talk to me like you don't even know me. I'm just a dollar sign to you." Pamela frowned as I added, "That's how you said you looked at all of the guys who come to your club. They have money, and you want it."

"I didn't look at ALL of them that way," Pamela countered. "Some of the guys were really sweet. If a guy wasn't all that attractive, but he was nice and friendly, and acted like a gentleman, I would try to be extra nice to him in return. Like, give him a hug after the lap dance ended - and let him hug me too. Some guys I would even give a tiny peck on the cheek. I never did that for guys who were mean, disrespectful toward me, or attractive."

"You only let the unattractive guys hug you after the lap dance ended?" I confirmed. "Interesting."

"I figured they were at the club because they led lonely lives. With some guys, you could really tell. They were shy, afraid to make too much eye contact. Believe it or not, but I can spot the 30-year-old virgin from a mile away. I have danced for plenty of guys like that. I wanted to be nice to them. It was all part of the fantasy."

"But you still worked them for their money."

"Yes, I did," she nodded. "20 bucks for a table dance, 25 for a couch dance and 35 for the champagne room, where there was the most contact. Each dance lasted for an entire song, and once about every half-hour there were two-for-one specials. Two dances for the price of one."

"I bet you made a lot of money."

"Not as much as you'd think," she told me. "For every dance I did, no matter if it was the 20, 25 or $35 variety, I had to give ten dollars back to the club. On top of that, the club got its flat house fee - $70." She frowned and then added, "Some nights, business was really slow and I wound up owing the club money."

I squinted my eyes. "How so?"

Pamela shrugged her shoulders. "The house fee - 70 bucks. Even if I did not make $70 on any given night, I still had to pay the house fee. I had to give three lap dances at $35 apiece to show any kind of profit for myself every night. Those three dances added up to $105. But with the $70 house fee and ten bucks going back to the club for every dance I did, I'd only walk away with five dollars for the first three lap dances I did every night. After that, though, the money and the profits began to pile up. But I cannot count all the times that I worked nine or ten hours and came up empty. You work all that time and wind up owing your job money. I had to fork over $70 first thing every night I went to work."

"That doesn't sound right."

"It's not right," she agreed. "But it's the way it is. On the flip-side, though, there were certain nights when I actually took home $1,000 to $1,500 in cash. During a routine night, though, I take home five or six hundred. Those more than made up for the slow nights. Most of my job is just sitting around and talking with the customers in the club. We have to talk to them and be very nice in order for them to open up their wallets. Oh ... and when we dance on stage, or on the side ledge near the wall, I'd be lucky to get two or three bucks in tips. Usually, one guy would come over and tip me. If I was lucky, it led to a private dance."

"You said it was a really classy place?"

"Oh yes, most definitely," Pamela answered. "I would've never applied there if it was anything but. All of the club employees were real nice and business-like, from the manager to the house madam, the bouncers, the waitresses and even the restroom attendants. I never had any problems, though I did not particularly care for some of the other dancers. But it's that way no matter what club you work at. There is always going to be jealousy and resentment, rivalries, among some of the dancers. We are in a constant competition, some friendly and some not, to attract the customer's attention. That is the only way a dancer can make any money."

"What did you talk about with the customers?" I inquired. "You said you had to talk and be real nice to them."

"It was a house policy. We could never be negative toward anyone, no matter what they said or did. If they became too unruly, the bouncers would step in and take care of them. I had my standard list of questions for every customer - name, had they been to the club before, where do they live and what do they do for a living. We would chat for a while and then, eventually, I would ask if they wanted a private dance."

"Did you have any truly loyal customers? Guys who looked at you as their favorite, and always sought you out?"

She grinned. "I had my share. There was this one guy ... his name was Eric. He would come in once a week and plop down $350 for ten lap dances from me in the champagne room. It usually wound up being 12 or 13, because of the special two-for-one deal every half-hour. I had to sit down and rest once every three or four songs. Eric never seemed to mind. We would just sit there and talk."

She nodded her head and added, "He was my favorite. Not because he gave me all that money, but because he was very depressed and lonely in life. He was incredibly sweet, too. He was one of those 30-year-old virgins that I mentioned. It felt good to give him that ray of sunshine every week. I was the only dancer that he was interested in seeing. He'd call the club beforehand to see if I was working that night. If I wasn't, he would not come. Between all of the dancing and talking we did, he usually stayed for three hours."

"Did you ever think of meeting him outside of work?"

"No, that was my rule - don't mix business with pleasure," she answered. "Plus, if I did that and the club found out about it - dating a customer I met at work - I would be fired on the spot. Some strip clubs encourage that and some don't. This one doesn't." Pamela hesitated before saying, "I did break that rule once, though. There was this really hot girl that I danced for one night. She even got me excited. A customer getting ME excited happens once every two or three years. Anyway, I met her - Missy - in a hotel room after my shift ended that night. But I was a lot younger then, and much more impressionable than I am now."

Pamela glanced downward for an instant. "If I ever did break that personal rule about meeting customers outside of work, the only man that I could possibly see that happening with would have been Eric. You know, the 30-year-old virgin. I thought about the possibility of that from time to time, I guess. But in the end, I just did not feel comfortable with the idea of possibly dating a man whom I had met at work." She shook her head and ended, "Wouldn't feel right to me."

"The club doesn't sound like that bad of a place."

"It does have its drawbacks," Pamela countered. "As I said, they are very classy and professional in the way the place is run. Thus, consequences go along with that."

"Consequences? What do you mean?"

Pamela frowned. "The fines there are outrageous."

"Fines?"

She nodded her head. "Yes, the place has fines. Like if you are just ten minutes late for work, it's a $50 fine." My eyes went wide as she added, "Then two dollars for every extra minute until you arrive. Once I was 45 minutes late and wound up paying $120 in fines. That's the high for me. I was stuck in a traffic jam, but they did not care."

"Wow..." I gushed, awestruck. "Just for being late?"

She nodded her head once again. "Yes, just for being late. It's SO ridiculous. And when it's your turn to be on stage, you HAVE to be there at the beginning of the song. If not, that's a hundred dollar fine. I could be talking with a customer but if the D.J. calls out my name, I have to end the conversation and be on stage. I have a 60 second window. But the music is so loud and blaring, sometimes it is hard to hear the D.J. call out my name. I have to pay attention."

"No wonder strip club owners have so much money," I said. "They pop you for $70 just to work for them each night, take $10 from every private dance you do and charge outrageous fines. Does not seem to be a way to keep employees happy."

"There is also the $150 fine," Pamela added. "They have never gotten me for it, though."

"What is it?"

"Dancers are allowed to smoke cigarettes in the club, but only at the bar or at a table," she answered. "If any girl is caught holding an open cigarette while out on the floor, it is an automatic $150 fine. We can carry packs or cartons, but not an open cigarette. I don't smoke, though, so they have never had the chance to hit me up for that much."

"That's good," I nodded. "Smoking is bad for you. My brother got lung cancer from years of second-hand smoke while growing up. My mom always smoked. I can only hope that I don't get cancer one day because of it, too. Her smoking was not the main reason my brother got cancer, but his doctor said it was definitely a contributing factor."

Pamela looked concerned. "Your brother. Is he ... okay?"

"Dan is doing well," I nodded. "He beat cancer."

"Good, I'm glad," Pamela breathed.

Having asked Pamela this following question in the past, I already knew the answer to it. But I felt like asking it again anyway. "Do you actually like being a stripper?"

The blonde hesitated for a moment, then made a face. "I always tell people yes, but the truth is, I really hate it. But the money is wonderful. That's why I do it. I made well over $150,000 in cash last year. It was tax-free, too."

"You don't report your income to the IRS?"

"No way," she answered. "Strippers are what is called independent contractors. We don't get checks. We get paid in cash. We are supposed to report our earnings, of course, but I don't want to give up all of the money I would owe in taxes each year. If you do a background check on me, I have been unemployed for the past 11 years."

"You've been a stripper for 11 years."

"Exactly," Pamela nodded. "The government does not know that I am a stripper. They think I am unemployed. So why should I report my earnings to them? I would probably lose 30 or 40 grand a year. That would be foolish."

"Hopefully you never get caught," I offered. "I can see, though, why the money would keep you there. $150,000 plus per year... $3,000 per week, I guess. Tax-free, too. Nice."

"I endure a lot of verbal abuse there," Pamela told me. "A lot of the customers each night get drunk and become disrespectful. But the worst is on Friday and Saturday nights. Though those are the best nights to make money, I hate working them. There are so many 18- and 19-year-old guys who come in. They are wild and unruly. They think they can say whatever they want. I hate them."

I frowned. "Most of them, I'm sure, have no idea how to conduct themselves around a REAL woman like you."

Pamela sulked and continued, "That job changed the way I look at people. I thought that everyone, in the club or even at the mall, looked at me as an object. Nothing but an object. I lost all of my trust in humanity." Her lower lip quivered as she added, "You're the first man, Jeremy, that I have trusted in probably six or seven years."

My body tingled as I asked, "Me? Why is that?"

"Just the way you treat me, and everyone else," she said. "You're willing to sit and talk with me. I can talk with you for three or four hours about anything, and you don't even make a move on me. We have had sex a couple of times with each other, but you still want to talk to me, get to know me. I'm not used to that. You're interested in me. And you care about all of us here. That caring is sincere, and real. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it."

I chuckled and wryly told her, "Anyone would find it interesting to know that a stripper likes to read books about Egyptian artifacts and the mysteries of the Nile River." A question that long puzzled me then popped into my mind. I knew Pamela could answer it. "Why does the Nile flow south to north, instead of north to south?"

"It flows downhill from the high mountains in Africa," she answered. "Very few rivers in the world actually flow south to north, but the Nile is one." She paused and added, "I would love to go on a trip down ... err, up it one day."

Suddenly, I came up with a question that I thought she had no chance of answering. "Why is the sky blue?"

"A clear and cloudless sky in the daytime is blue because molecules from the air scatter blue light more than they scatter red light, or any other light, from the sun," she explained, as I listened in astonishment. Pamela knew the answer to this question, too? "At sunset, the sky appears red and orange because the blue light has been scattered out and away from our line of vision. I believe this is called the Tyndall Effect. Yes ... named after a scientist."

Was there anything that Pamela DID NOT know? What other question could I possibly try to stump her with? I certainly could not think of any better question than the last one. She was a truly amazing person, indeed.

"You're too smart and too classy of a woman to have put yourself through this stripping business for 11 years," I nodded, gently kissing the back of her hand. "One day very soon, hopefully, you will graduate from college and become a teacher. That is your career goal. Lindsay is thinking about becoming a teacher too, you know. Either that, or maybe getting into the ministry." I smiled and added, "I bet you have a 4.0 grade point average in college, right?"

"3.8," she corrected me.

"I was looking on the Internet and came across the website for the strip club that you work at," I told her. "You have a bio page in it. It says that you love being a stripper. It also says something about your Bad Girl Playground."

"Don't pay any attention to that garbage," Pamela quipped, making a face. "The club wants their customers to think that we - the dancers - wrote those pages ourselves. Truth is, their website guy wrote most, if not all, of them. I don't get on the computer much, but have seen what it says about me. I was angry and upset at first, but it passed. That bio page has earned me a lot of money since it's been online."

"What about bachelor parties and other private shows of that nature?" I inquired. "What are they like?"

Pamela shook her head and sighed. "Terrible. How would you like to get naked in some strange house or apartment, and give lap dances to ten, 20, sometimes 30 guys that you never even met before? I thank God for my bodyguards. Most girls have one, but I have two. They go with me to all of the private parties and make sure that I am kept safe."

"Shiznittle Bam Snip Snap Snabba," I murmured, repeating the same phrase I had earlier read on the website.

Pamela looked at me strangely. "What?"

I chuckled and shrugged her off. "Oh, nothing." Laughing again, I added, "Bodyguards? Employed by you or the club?"

"The club," Pamela responded. "I actually take a cut in pay for each out-of-club party that I go to so I can have a second bodyguard. It just gives me piece of mind."

"How much does one of those parties cost?"

"Booking a lone dancer costs $300 an hour, or $800 for three hours," Pamela told me. "But some people like two dancers instead of one. That costs $500 per hour. I get paid $150 per hour, no matter what. It is $25 less than all of the other girls because I have that extra bodyguard."

"What do most customers book?"

"One hour," she answered. "I usually leave parties with anywhere from a few bucks to $100 in tips. People go to the website and pick a girl they like, then call the club and make all of the arrangements. I usually give them a call myself to confirm everything. Or, they come to the club directly and pick a girl out. I usually do one, maybe two bachelor or birthday parties each month. Also, I will ONLY do them on Friday and Saturday nights. It gets me away from the wild college kids at the club those nights."

"But you still don't like doing private parties?"

She frowned and shook her head. "Not at all. They are terrible. But ... this is what I do for a living. Strip, that is. I've been doing it for years. I always wanted to get out of the business, but I can't because of the money. I won't leave it until I get a job as a schoolteacher. The money will be much less, yes, but being a teacher has been my life-long ambition. It is what I go to college for. I figure that anything else is not worth the pay cut."

"Does anyone that you go to college with know what you do for a living? Or do they have any suspicions?"

"I don't think so," Pamela replied. "There are strip clubs all over the area for students from my school to go to. The one I work at, it is 31 miles away from where I live. It is 39 miles away from the college campus itself. I could work at a club a lot closer, but the chances of meeting up with someone who actually knows me would be a whole lot greater that way. So, I go the long distance."

Lost in thought, Pamela paused for a moment. "To tell you the truth, I really don't interact that much with the people I go to college with. 90 percent of them are ages 18 to 22, while I'm 30. I basically just keep to myself."

"Guys hit on you, I bet..."

Pamela shrugged her shoulders and countered, "I just tell them that I am not interested. I see enough college kids every Friday and Saturday night at work. There is no way that I would ever date a guy that young of an age."

I smiled at her. "You're just a regular girl in a very irregular job. Still, you're above that place. You're better than that, Pamela. Much better. I want you to know that, because I know it myself. You're better than that."

The young woman took a deep breath and sighed. "It seems like I've been an exotic dancer forever. In many ways, I have lost my touch with reality. I find it so incredibly difficult to trust others. It's hard in my line of work."

"Yet you trust me?" I smiled. "We have only known each other for a short amount of time, Pamela. That's it."

"I just get this sense about you," she explained. "And, believe it or not, but I've talked to Kristanna about you. She knows you better than anyone else here, correct? You have been friends with her for four years? Kristanna has nothing but good things to say about you, Jeremy."

"I have nothing but good things to say about Kristanna," I chuckled. "She is a very special and unique friend."

Pamela glanced downward for a moment and pouted. She took a deep breath and then made eye contact with me yet again. "Camille made me angry earlier."

"What?" I asked, taken off-guard. "What happened?"

"Amy told me that Camille made the comment to her that no stripper is to be trusted, and all of them are hungry for money. Camille even went as far as to say that I am not interested in you because of who you are, Jeremy, but because of WHAT you are - a man with two billion dollars." Pamela's brown eyes flashed as she shook her head in denial. "It got me SO MAD! Camille has NO RIGHT to talk about me, or say things like that, behind my back. NO RIGHT!"

I frowned. "It does not surprise me that Camille would be the one to say something like that. This is just my own opinion, of course, but Camille is a blabber-mouth. She's said a few private things about Devon to the others, too." I smiled and kissed Pamela on the bridge of her nose. "But it doesn't matter, dear. Let Camille think whatever she likes. Let her say whatever she wants. It does not matter."

"I've had more money than all of my boyfriends and girlfriends since I started stripping," Pamela added. "Not two billion dollars like you told Lindsay you have, but much more than any of them, nonetheless. I know what it is like, Jeremy. They want you to pay their car payment. They want to borrow money, but never return it. I know all about it."

I laughed. "They want you to buy them a new house..."

"I'm the least materialistic person you could ever meet," Pamela said. "Aside from my car and penthouse, I don't spend money on anything. I save it. I told you that I have over $300,000 in the bank. All I ever do is stay home anyway. I have always been afraid of the future. I want to save as much money as possible. I don't know what's in the future."

"Sweetheart, you don't have to justify yourself to me."

Pamela grunted. "Oooooh ... Camille still makes me MAD! I cannot believe Camille would talk bad about me like that behind my back. Tell Amy that I only like you for your money! I have never said one bad word about Camille, so I have no idea why she would talk about me behind my back."

"Camille and her opinion does not matter," I stated. "Do not worry about it, Pamela. I am starting to like Camille less and less with every passing day. Do not worry one bit about Camille. I do not think that she is a good person."

"I'll try, Jeremy."

I tilted my head to the side and looked at her intently. "You said you were afraid of the future, dear. Why?"

"Because I can't strip forever," Pamela answered. "I am going to college, studying education. But I am very fearful all of the time I have spent in college may go for nothing. What school is going to hire someone who stripped for 11 years to be a teacher? I have started thinking about that."

"Don't tell them that you were a stripper."

"It's a little more complicated than that."

"How so?" I wondered. "You said you are an independent contractor. You have no job. Someone runs a background check on you, it comes up empty job-wise for the past 11 years." I shrugged my shoulders. "The school would never know that you were a stripper unless you told them."

"I'm scared that they would investigate that long gap," Pamela fretted. "I would think, of all places, that schools are extremely thorough in looking into the backgrounds of potential employees - especially teachers." Pamela hung her head low. "I've worked so hard in college. I hope all of that hard work was done for a purpose. I really started to worry about this recently. You would think that a school would be curious as to why someone claims they were totally unemployed from ages 19 to 30, or 31 next year. I ... I will get my degree next year. I can't wait. I just can't wait."

Pamela inhaled sharply, then momentarily closed her eyes. "Hey, I was gonna give you a lap dance, remember? You wanted me to treat you like a customer at the club where I work."

"I don't want you to dance for me anymore."

"Why?" Pamela asked, confused.

"Because you don't like it," I told her. "You said it yourself - you don't like being a stripper. I don't want you to do something that you are not in favor of, Pamela. I was already aware that you did not like being a stripper, but I did not know the true extent until just moments ago. So, I do not want you to dance for me anymore."

She shook her head at me. "No, it's okay, Jeremy. I WANT to dance for you. You're not a drunken customer. You are not a stranger. I know you enjoyed that lap dance I gave this past Saturday. I want to give you another."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, positive," she confirmed. "Let me dance for you. But I want to do it inside." Pamela placed both arms in front of her body and shivered here on the outdoor deck. "This island of yours can get quite chilly sometimes ... especially when the wind starts whipping about."

"Very well," I nodded, extending my hand to her. "Let's go back inside - to my personal suite."

-------

Five minutes later, our role-playing game of Pamela the stripper, Jeremy the customer had already begun. All the stacked blonde did was retrieve a pair of high-heeled shoes and a lacey ankle ruffle from her guest room, then return to my own private room and take off all of her clothing.

Now, she stood atop the nearby dresser with nothing but the high-heels and ruffle on. The gorgeous young lady was methodically parading her hot, luscious body about, gently swaying and bumping her hips to an unheard rhythm. At the same time, I pretended to be a customer - seated in a corner chair and silently admiring her. I liked role-playing games.

Pamela's large, D-cup breasts shimmied back-and-forth as she smiled and made eye contact with me. I nodded my head and grinned at her in return, knowing there could not be a more incredibly beautiful stripper in the whole, wide world. Maybe not even a more beautiful WOMAN, period...

At 5-foot-6 and 120 pounds, Pamela sported a fabulous figure that was home to some tight curves and awesome angles. Those bedroom eyes could lure any man into her spell, while that gentle, friendly smile hinted at a unique warmness and sensitivity underneath. With that body, she had made a very nice living for herself in the world of adult entertainment.

Very slowly, Pamela turned her back to me upon the dresser and then bent over at the waist, offering me a tempting glance of her round, tight ass. The 30-year-old wiggled it about for a bit, then spun around on a high-heel and cupped her breasts, her eyes again focused on my face. I smiled at her as my cock began to twitch within my shorts.

Pamela's hips bumped and undulated as she rolled her head about, her long hair flailing every-which-way. Pamela then cupped and squeezed her heavenly breasts as she danced and swiveled about upon the sturdy wooden dresser in just the pair of high-heels and lacey ankle ruffle.

Playing the role of customer, I slowly got up from my chair and made my way over to the dresser. After I reached into my pocket and pulled out a money clip, Pamela grinned and then began squirming and bucking her hips about as if she was in the process of getting drilled during sex.

I pulled out a single dollar bill and held it up for her. Pamela smiled, then spread her legs and knelt down directly in front of me. Her delicate, glistening pussy staring me right in the face, I soon realized what the ruffle was for. She grabbed one side of it and pulled it away from her ankle. I promptly slipped the dollar bill into its rightful place.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she returned (using her standard line at the club), flashing me a million-dollar smile.

"There's more where that came from," I grinned, offering her another dollar. I slipped it into the ruffle, too.

"Would you like to sit and talk for awhile once this song is over?" Pamela asked, being overly nice and cordial. When I nodded my head at her, Pamela made a clicking sound with her mouth and winked an eye at me. "It's almost finished."

She stood up and began dancing and gyrating upon the dresser once again, but suddenly stopped and looked down at me. "The song is finally over!" Pamela squealed, extending me her hand. "Would you help me down, please?" I took her hand into mine and held on tight as she stepped down onto a chair, and then the floor. "Let's find somewhere to sit."

"Sounds good to me," I told her, as we took a seat at the computer table. Now, I would get a taste of the strip club experience. I had always been very curious about it...

"Hi there!" Pamela greeted me, in perhaps the nicest and most warm tone I had ever heard a woman use. "Thank you for the nice tips. I really, really appreciate it."

"You are very welcome," I nodded.

"So ... what's your name, sweetheart?"

"Jeremy."

"I'm Pamela," she returned, grasping my hand and shaking it. "Most of the girls here at the club use stage names, but I don't. My real name is Pamela ... I am who I am. So ... have you been to this club in the past?"

"No, I haven't. Actually, I've never been to one of these places before in my entire life."

"Really?" she confirmed, acting surprised. "I did not think you had been here before because I don't recognize you. Not only am I really good at remembering faces, but I've been working here forever!" Pamela flashed me another dazzling smile. "Let me tell you, Jeremy, that this is a really nice and classy club. Do you like it here so far?"

"I like it a lot."

"Where do you live?"

I grinned and told her, "On an exotic, tropical island off the coast of Peru. It's beautiful. Where do you live?"

"Oh, I live just outside of Baltimore," Pamela responded. Smart, I told myself. Pamela did not tell me her specific hometown. Outside of Baltimore covered a large area.

"Just exactly how long have you been working here?"

She nodded at me. "11 years. I like it here a lot. It helps put me through college, and pay the bills." Pamela was being overly nice. I mean, overly nice. I wondered how many times she had this same, exact conversation in the past with total strangers? "So Jeremy, where do you work?"

"I don't work. Believe it or not, I'm retired."

"You're retired?" she gasped. "You seem awfully young to be retired. What are you? I bet you're 38."

"Yes, I am. And I bet you are 30, dear."

Pamela smiled, staying in character. "Hey, you're good."

I decided to extend the game to another level. "I imagine that this is your only job? Do you work anyplace else?"

"This is my only job," she confirmed. "Believe it or not, but I thought of getting a part-time job a couple of years ago at a Starbucks coffee shop right down the street from where I live. I'd been almost a daily customer of them for years - and still am - but decided against it in the end. I did not want to take away all of my free time in working both there and here, and going to college at the same time. My life is busy and hectic enough as it is!"

Obviously, that was news to me. Pamela once considered getting a part-time job at a coffee-house to help supplement her income as an exotic dancer? At the very least, it would have been something legitimate to put on her work record...

"You said you were retired, right?" I nodded my head at her as she continued, "What type of work were you in?"

"Internet type of stuff," I commented. "Website and domain construction. I got lucky and made a lot of money."

Pamela smiled. "I am not really into computers myself. I honestly only use one because there is a lingerie store in Pittsburgh called Chelsea's, and that is where I buy all of my lingerie and sexy outfits for work at. They have their own website and I bet that I am their number one customer! I have been using that particular website for many years."

"What do you do with your free time?" I inquired.

"Well ... if I'm not working or attending college, I'm usually studying. In the few precious moments that I have outside of that, I like to read. I fall in love with books and never want to set them down. Other than that, I spend time with my sister. She and I are room-mates. Her name is Candice, and she is my best friend. I'm fairly boring."

I grinned at her and spoke from the heart in responding, "I very seriously doubt that you are boring, Pamela."

The young woman smiled again at me, but decided to change the subject. "Hey, you know what? I had some horrible luck tonight. I was caught speeding by the cops, going 92 in a 65 mile-per-hour zone. It was so embarrassing."

"92?" I exclaimed. "You must have been in a hurry."

"Yes, I was," she replied. "I was late for work."

With any luck, I said inwardly, you did not have to pay that outrageous fine, dear. I sure hope not...

"I could have been in a lot of trouble for going so fast, you know, but the cop was nice. I had my [Strip Club Name] t-shirt on, and he said he and his buddies come here from time to time. I told him I was already 15 minutes late for work. He told me to slow down and be more careful. He also bumped my ticket from 92 down to 80. That way, he said, I would not have to go to traffic court, but I still had to pay a fine." Pamela grinned and added, "I told him to come up and get a dance from me sometime." The segue was set. "How about you? Would you like a dance from me, Jeremy?"

"Yes, I would," I answered. Pamela smiled once again as she stood up from the chair and extended her hand. I took it, and then she led me to the middle of my personal suite.

"Since this is your first time here, let me explain that a couch dance will cost you $25. Or we could go up to the champagne room. It is really the best place, but runs an additional ten bucks - $35. Much more contact there. I can give you a table dance for $20, but it is minimal contact."

I smiled at her. "The champagne room sounds perfect."

As Pamela led me by the hand over to the large sofa near the back wall - which would serve as the champagne room, I guess - I pulled out a pair of twenties from my money clip. I extended the cash to her, but Pamela shook her head and retorted, "You don't have to pay me until the dance is over."

"No," I said. "Go ahead and take it. Keep the change."

"Thank you!" she squealed, momentarily leaning over and grabbing the pair of dollar bills I had given her earlier. She placed the total of $42 on the end table and then motioned for me to take a seat upon the sofa. "Spread your legs for me, sweetheart," she requested, and I complied.

Pamela stepped directly between my legs and gently nudged her tender knee and lower calf across the aching bulge within my shorts. She then placed her hands on my shoulders and vigorously shook her body, causing her large, firm breasts to jiggle about a mere two inches in front of my face.

The enchantress leaned down somewhat and pressed her upper torso onto my chest and abdomen. With both arms now linked around my neck, she placed the side of her face upon my heart and held it there for several seconds. Her fluffy hair felt wonderful against my own chin and face.

"How much does a Pepsi or Coke cost here?"

"$14," she answered, which caused my eyebrows to nearly skyrocket. "They give you about three-quarters of a can. I know, I know ... the prices for drinks here are outrageous."

"What about orange juice?"

Pamela giggled. "I don't think we serve orange juice."

"Is the food on the menu any good?"

"Not unless you want to get sick..."

My legs still wide, Pamela hooked her own legs over my upper thighs and straddled me there. Her lovely, pristine face hovered in front of mine for several seconds, her eyes seemingly flashing in an exotic manner.

"I can't touch you ... right?" I confirmed, my hands idly resting at my sides.

"No, but I can touch you," she explained. "House rules."

Pamela turned to the side and slid off of my lap, and to the side of the sofa. Now seated there, she draped her legs across my lap and spread them far apart, allowing me an unobstructed view of her sweet, intoxicating pussy. My heart nearly skipped a beat as she reached between her thighs and twiddled away at her clitoris with a single fingertip.

Pamela's next move was to glide down to the floor. With her back to me, she got onto her hands and knees, with her ass perched high - and staring me straight in the face. She gyrated and swiveled her shapely hips about for my adoring eyes in a somewhat lewd, suggestive manner, before slowly turning around and rising up to her knees.

Starting at my crotch, Pamela snaked her cover-girl face up my body - past my abdomen and chest, and finally stopped at eye-level. She stared at me for several seconds with a seductive expression, then tapped my nose with a fingertip.

Her face descended lower once again, and this time, the goddess held it near my stomach. Her eyes never left mine as she stared up at me, her right forearm now rubbing and massaging the lump within my shorts. Pamela then wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed tightly, and again snaked her way up my body. This time, however, she kept her breasts pressed hard against my torso.

Again at eye-level, Pamela linked her arms around my neck and leaned her face in close to my right ear. I could feel her warm, sensuous breath upon my ear, and then she even blew into it - which sent absolute shockwaves of hot pleasure shooting all throughout my body. An instant later, I felt her tongue on my ear. She licked it! Twice!

"Whoa ... is that normal?" I asked, breaking character.

"Yes, it is," Pamela frowned, taking a step back and nodding her head. "The house madam likes for us to lick or gently bite a customer's ear once, if not twice, each dance." She then reverted back to our role-playing game and said, "Would you like another dance? It will run you $35 more."

The game was over.

I brought Pamela into my arms and hugged her in a very warm and caring manner. Then, despite the high level of excitement she had given me during her performance upon the dresser and the ensuing lap dance, I came to a conclusion.

Still embracing her with both arms, I inhaled sharply and declared, "I don't want you to dance for me ever again." She pulled away and looked at me as I added, "Pamela, you're not a stripper anymore. Not as long as you're on my island."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused, making a motion toward my crotch. "You're hard as a ROCK. You don't want me to dance for you anymore? I don't quite understand."

"Just what I said," I told her. "You're not a stripper anymore as long as you're on my island. I enjoyed the lap dance, yes, but to be honest, I don't like looking at you in that way." Pamela sighed as I added, "You are an incredibly good and wonderful person. I am more interested in the Pamela on the inside instead of the Pamela on the outside."

Perched in my lap with my hands around her waist, Pamela sagged somewhat and leaned back. "You ... you're the first guy who has ever said that to me, Jeremy." I smiled as she cooed, "You want to know me inside more than outside."

"It's the truth," I assured her. "I do admit that you are a very beautiful woman, and that is a major reason why I noticed you in the first place. But it is surely not what is keeping my interest. The person inside of you is keeping my interest. I want to know more about the person inside of you. I want to know everything there is to know."

Pamela placed her hands on either side of my face and smiled at me, her head slightly tilted to the side. "I want to know everything about you too, Jeremy." An instant later, she pressed those red, moist lips of hers to my mouth and offered me a tender, very pleasurable kiss. At the same time, Pamela linked her arms around my shoulders and hugged me. Our kiss, slow and languid, lasted a good 15 seconds. Suddenly, it felt as if I had died and gone to Heaven.

"Hmmmmm ... I enjoyed that," were my words once our lips finally parted ways. Now looking into her luminous brown eyes, I brought my right hand up and grazed the back of it across Pamela's cheek in the most gentle of fashions. She smiled in response and then, I kissed her again. This time, our tongues touched and danced together in harmony.

"Why don't you put some clothes on?" I whispered, bumping her nose with my own. I glanced at Pamela's nude form for a brief moment. God, she was beautiful. Simply beautiful!

I then re-focused my sights onto her eyes and said, "Get some clothes on, and we'll talk some more. I don't feel all that comfortable talking to you without you wearing clothes."

Pamela snickered. "Then why don't you take your clothes off, too? I'm sure you would be more comfortable then."

I lowered my head for a moment, then looked back up and smiled at Pamela. "I just feel like talking to you right now. That's all. I want to know more about you. I want to know about your family. I want to know how it was growing up for you. I want to know what life is like in Maryland."

Pamela smiled and traced the tip of her right forefinger over and across my chin. "I will tell you whatever you want to know about me, Jeremy." That subtle, simple move sent a wave of good sensations coursing throughout my entire body. The 30-year-old pecked my cheek with a kiss and then offered me yet another warm, spirit-lifting embrace.

I grinned at her one more time. "I got some dress shirts, some sweatshirts and sweatpants and the like over in my closet. Go over and put something on ... just enough to cover up. I even got some big basketball and football jerseys. I have always loved the sight of a woman in a football jersey. I know that sounds incredibly strange, but it's the truth."

Pamela graced my cheek with another kiss and giggled, then pushed herself away from me and stood up. She glanced at the nearby closet, then back at me. "It's not all that often, you know, when I have someone asking me to actually put some clothes on. In fact, you're the first, Jeremy."

I nodded my head and countered, "I think I might be the first of a lot of things for you, sweetheart."

The 30-year-old pondered those words for a moment or two, then flashed me another smile before turning and making her way over to the closet. "You like your women in football jerseys, huh? Let me see what I can find in here..."

-------

"How is this?" Pamela asked a moment later, emerging from the closet. She was decked out in a #14 Cincinnati Bengals (my favorite team since I was born there) NFL replica jersey. The black nylon fabric was the perfect contrast for Pamela's long-flowing blonde hair and immaculate complexion. The jersey was so big on her that it went down to her knees.

Smiling, Pamela spun around in a circle and modeled the jersey for me. "Too bad you don't have a Ravens' uniform, but I'm not complaining. All I saw was this and some NBA Laker uniforms. Great athlete or not, I would never be caught dead in a Kobe Bryant jersey after what he was accused of a couple of years ago." She smiled again and added, "You should have a Ray Lewis jersey instead of Andy Dalton."

Suddenly overcome with a feeling of love and devotion - women in athletic apparel was a fetish of mine, remember - I stepped forward and grasped both of Pamela's hands with my own. I kissed her and offered, "I can certainly understand why you would not want to wear a Kobe jersey. In my defense, I bought it LONG before he got into all the legal trouble."

Pamela stepped back, but held onto my wrists and thus, extended my arms outward. She offered me a glittering smile and cooed, "Take me somewhere."

"Where?"

"Anywhere. Somewhere in this big mansion that I have yet to visit. I don't care. I just want to be with you."

-------

Across from the exercise room was the home theater (not to be confused with the OmniMAX theater located elsewhere). Very contemporary in design, the home theater contained customized leather seating to ensure maximum comfort while enjoying a movie. Overhead, the black ceiling was in a wave-like, undulating design and was filled with fiber optic lights to create a starry nighttime effect. This fabulous room also included a built-in bar and large popcorn machine. It was perfect for what I had in mind tonight...

"Slushy?" I said to Pamela, handing her a cherry drink made of soft ice. When she took the cup from me and sipped its straw, I smiled and sat down in the chair next to her. I grasped her left hand with my right and gently kissed it.

"Thank you," she said, motioning toward her drink.

"You're welcome."

"Is there anything to watch on the movie screen?" Pamela asked. "Or do we just sit here and talk?"

"I have over 2,000 movies," I informed her. "If you like it, I probably have it in the video room. Name a movie."

Pamela slumped down in her chair and placed her head on my shoulder. "I would rather just sit and talk, Jeremy. It is so good to be able to relax ... and just TALK. Not have to worry about impressing some customer, or trying to coax another $35 out of him or her. Just to be myself, and talk. The only person who ever really listened to me was Candice."

"Your sister?"

"Yes."

"What can you tell me about the rest of your family?"

"My mom is 55 and my dad is 57," she replied. "They have had some very rocky times in their marriage, but are still together. I don't think they would know what to do if they ever split apart, although they constantly fight and argue."

"Some older couples are like that," I nodded. "Your mom and dad ... what are their names?"

"Tom and Carol. I have two sisters, Paula and Candice. Paula is 34 and married, has a few kids. Candice is 26. I have told you about her before. Candice has been living at my penthouse with me since she graduated from high school. My grandmother, Genevieve, lives with my parents. She is 81 and is still in pretty good condition for her age. Her husband - my grandfather - died a couple of years ago. They were together for 57 years."

"I'm sorry to hear that, dear."

Pamela shrugged her shoulders. "My parents did not want Grandma to be alone, so they took her in three years ago. I was going to offer to let her move in with Candice and me if my parents didn't. Grandma ... she devoted her entire life to Grandpa. Grandma never worked, never did anything but raise her kids and look after us, her grandkids. She loved Grandpa so much. It almost killed her when he died. He was, in many ways, her whole life. Everything to her."

"This may sound like an off-the-wall question, Pamela. But what is your middle name?"

"My middle name? Annabeth. Why do you ask?"

"Pamela Annabeth," I grinned. "Pretty name. I could call you PAP for short."

"PAP?"

"Your initials," I reminded her. "P-A-P."

"Oh," the 30-year-old giggled. "Why ask my middle name?"

I kissed the crown of her head. "Just as I said, I want to know EVERYTHING about you. What were you like before you became a stripper? What were you like in high school?"

Pamela snickered. "When do I get to ask the questions?"

"Ask me whatever you want."

Pamela smiled again. "Okay, your questions first. What was I like before I became a stripper? Believe it or not, but I worked at McDonald's from ages 15 through 19." My interest level went up another notch with those words. I could easily picture a young and teen-age Pamela working the counter at a fast-food joint. Droves of men - young and old alike - filing in to get a glimpse of the beautiful blonde. I am sure she had admirers from the female persuasion, too.

Pamela laughed. "Would you like any fries with that?"

"No ... but how about some sugar?" I asked, curling my head and neck, and eventually finding her lips with my own.

"Hmmmmm ... I love sugar," Pamela moaned after our kiss reached its conclusion. With her cherry slushy still in hand, I looked at it for a moment and came to a decision. I snaked my head forward and stole a healthy sip from its straw. Finding no problem in sharing her drink with me, Pamela smiled and then sipped from the straw herself.

Feeling playful, Pamela snatched a handful of popcorn and tossed it directly into my face. She giggled while doing so, but then squealed in protest as I grabbed her slushy and made a motion to dump it all over her head. I would never do that to Pamela - or anyone else for that matter - but it was fun to put a little scare into her nonetheless.

"You better not DARE do that!" Pamela warned me, grinning, as she grabbed the plastic cup from me. "No more slushy for you!" I took a piece of popcorn that was resting in my lap and placed it into Pamela's mouth. She accepted it, but then took some time to nibble on my thumb and index finger.

When Pamela made eye contact with me, she and I gazed at one another for several seconds. Then, without a word, the young woman slithered out of her chair and settled down upon my lap. With her back against my front, she tilted her head backward and rested it on my right shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her stomach from behind and squeezed lovingly.

"Have you ever made out with anyone in a movie theater?"

"I can't say that I have," I told her. "You?"

Pamela grinned. "Not since I was 17."

When I kissed Pamela's neck, my nose came into contact with her silky hair and I was rewarded with the intoxicating smell of raspberry sorbet. Even this woman's choice of scented shampoo was enough to drive me totally insane!

I nuzzled my lips against her neck and held steady for about 20 seconds. Although I loved kissing Pamela's neck, my primary focus right now was the smell of her hair. It flooded my senses and made my head swoon with delight.

"What were you like in high school?" I whispered, gently nibbling at her earlobe with my lips. "A cheerleader?"

Pamela shifted about upon my lap and murmured, "Yes."

"I think all of you girls were cheerleaders except Amy and Camille. Kristanna too, I guess. They do not have cheerleading in her country." I paused and added, "What else were you into while in high school, sweetheart?"

"Head cheerleader, graduated with honors," she replied. "I was on the ski team, played softball. Part of the Homecoming committee every year, the Future Homemakers club, drama, choir. I did a little bit of everything."

My continual nibbling of her earlobe - combined with occasionally blowing into that same ear - was having a very profound effect on Pamela. Finally, she squirmed about in my lap and then turned to face me.

Those brown eyes were smoldering with hot desire as she said, "One thing I definitely have never done is have sex in a movie theater." Pamela slipped her right hand between our pressed bodies and ventured downward until she came into contact with the hard, aching bulge inside of my shorts. "I want to have sex with you, Jeremy. Right now."

Pamela was shocked when, as she made a move to kiss me, I gently pushed her away.

"What's wrong?" Pamela insisted.

"Nothing is wrong," I answered, my voice calm and gentle. "I don't ... I don't want to have sex with you right now, Pamela." Her eyes nearly exploded from their sockets as I continued, "I just want to talk. I'm sorry if my kissing and teasing got you worked up. I just ... I want to talk now. I've had such a good time simply talking to you."

Still perched in my lap, Pamela sagged her shoulders and stared at me for several seconds. She was still stunned. "No one has ever turned me down before, Jeremy. No one."

"I can see why..."

Pamela gulped her throat and momentarily rolled her eyes at me. I do not know if it was negative or not on her part. Eventually, though, she nodded her head and offered me a loving kiss on the cheek. "We can keep talking."

"If it's okay with you," I breathed, hopeful.

"You are still physically attracted to me ... right?"

I laughed and shook my head at her worryful comment. "Pamela, you drive me insane. Totally insane. Your face, your body, everything about you on the outside. Trust me when I tell you ... I am WILDLY attracted to you physically. I want to have sex with you hundreds ... THOUSANDS of times in the future." I sighed and shook my head once again. "It's just ... right now, I just want to talk. I know I may sound crazy, but we have been having such a wonderful discussion all morning long. I ... I want it to continue."

"Have you turned down any of the other girls like this when they have tried to seduce you? You would be all over Lindsay and Amy now if it was either of them instead of me."

"You're probably right," I conceded. "But Lindsay and Amy do not interest me as people quite like you do."

Those words seemed to make Pamela happy. Grinning and laughing, it was as if she just now realized something.

"Am I crazy because I just want to talk to you?"

"No, you're not crazy," Pamela responded, placing a hand across my chest. She felt my heartbeat for several seconds with that hand and surmised, "You're just a man in love."



-------

Chapter 11: Ecdysiast


The time was 11:15am when I was making my way throughout the mansion on this warm and breezy Thursday morning. I was en route for the voyeur room (no surprise there, I know), but came to an abrupt halt once I spotted Trish seated all by her lonesome inside the spacious library. Of course, this was not the first time - nor would it be the last - that simply seeing Trish would make me stop dead in my tracks.

Trish did not notice me at first as I admired her from afar. Dressed in a black tank-top and a pair of hot pink shorts, along with white socks and sneakers, Trish was busy reading a book at the center table. The tank-top that she wore - which read Canadian Girls Kick Ass! across its front - gave no doubt as to where she hailed from.

Trish was so incredibly gorgeous. That was the exact thought which went throughout my mind as I watched the young woman play with her free-flowing blonde hair, twirling those wavy strands around an extended finger. Trish was petite yet also physically fit at the same time, standing 5-foot-4 and weighing a honed, sculpted 118 pounds, and had a truly voluptuous figure which was built for pleasures of the flesh. With a bright smile, smooth skin and 36d-24-36 measurements, Trish was what most normal men (such as myself) usually could only fantasize about. She was a goddess to me.

What made Trish even more appealing was the simple fact that she was one of the nicest, most friendly individuals I had ever come across in my life. Trish was a sweetheart to the highest degree; a people person. A warm, witty, clever and thoughtful woman, this 30-year-old exuded light and beauty in any room, and could enliven even the darkest of situations with her mere presence alone.

Trish also had attitude, confidence and control, and the wonderful ability to flirt and seem overly vulnerable all in the same moment. Such words did not apply to most women. Trish was truly a breath of fresh air whose charm, elegance and fierce, loyal nature could endear her to anyone.

Over the past week or so, it had become readily apparent that Devon and Pamela shared a vested interest in me. Where it was coming from and what was causing it, I was still not quite sure of at this particular moment in time. Again, I think of myself as nothing more than your average, ordinary man. There is really nothing special about me. There is nothing truly bad, either. I am simply an everyday guy ... just a face in a crowd that no one would probably notice. I have never been one to exaggerate about myself.

Point is, if this were a week-and-a-half ago (when the ladies first arrived on the island), I would probably be flip-flopping literally every minute between Devon and Pamela as to who my so-called favorite was. I would be racking my brain on a constant basis.

However, several days ago, I promised myself that I would no longer be playing the favorite game. It was not very healthy, or smart. I was going to sit back and wait, perhaps even a full month into their visit, before I chose which of the girls that I wanted to pursue a relationship with. With any luck, the feeling would be mutual.

So, a little one-on-one conversation time here with Trish in the library seemed very appealing to me. Oh, I know that Trish had her eyes set on Lindsay. She had her entire heart and soul set on Lindsay. That was clearly obvious. Trish wanted to take Lindsay home with her, and never look back.

Still, why not take this opportunity? I was extremely attracted to Trish. Was there a man alive who would not be attracted to a woman so eloquently beautiful and classy? Believe it or not, but there was also a part of me which still wanted to explore the possibility of a relationship with Trish. Why not? And, best of all, she was all alone here in the library right now. How often would I catch her without anyone else (especially Lindsay) around?

When Trish arched her neck to relieve an apparent crick, she noticed me as I stood in the adjacent hallway. In her own, patented fashion, Trish's brown eyes simply lit-up as she offered me that dazzling, genuine smile. "Hi Jeremy!" was her friendly greeting, as she waved her hand at me.

"Hi sweetheart," I returned, my heart fluttering in response to her smile. I composed myself and then made my way into the library - and over to her. I took a seat at the table and grinned, "What you got there?"

"Oh ... just a reference book about Peru," Trish told me, lifting the cover and showing its title to me. "Just reading about the history of Peru and its restaurants, the places to go and see ... that type of stuff." Trish placed the book down upon the table and offered me an impish pout. "You missed game four of the Stanley Cup Finals last night," she said, now pointing a menacing, yet playful, finger in my general direction. "I was hoping to watch the game with you and Lindsay in the recreation room, but you no-showed."

"I know, and I'm sorry," I frowned. "I got caught up with Pamela, and basically spent the entire day with her. I know that you wanted to continue my education on hockey, Trish, after we watched game three the other night." I paused for a moment, then wondered, "Did Los Angeles win and close out the series last night? Are they champions?"

"No," Trish answered. "New Jersey beat them 3-1. I expect the Devils to win game five back home in New Jersey, but then lose game six and the series itself on the road to the Kings this coming Monday night. Whatever happens, you know that I will be watching. I just wish it could be a team from Canada. No team from Canada has won the Stanley Cup since Montreal did it in 1993. I was 11."

I chuckled at her words. "I suppose game five is going to be on Saturday night?" She nodded at me as I continued, "I will watch it with you ... I promise. Question is, are you ever going to get Lindsay interested in hockey? All she did the other night during the game was play video games. That, and fall asleep for a short while."

"Meh ... I don't know," Trish shrugged. "But as long as Lindsay is with us, though, it's cool. I like having her around, you know." The 30-year-old took a deep breath and then wondered, "So, what was the deal between you and Pamela yesterday, Jeremy? People are buzzing about it."

I smiled. "We had a really nice day together. A lot of talking, a lot of joking, a lot of laughing. A good time." I nodded my head and smiled yet again. "It was one of the best days of my entire life. I believe Pamela will agree. She will tell you the same thing if you ask her."

"Oh, she already did," Trish gushed. "Pamela was glowing earlier at the breakfast table. When I got her alone, she could not stop talking about what a wonderful guy you are. The nicest and most sincere man she has ever met."

Those words made my head swoon and my insides tingle with emotion. Of course, Trish had me curious now. I wanted to know more. "What else did Pamela say about me?"

"Much the same of what you just told me. Pamela said you and her had an incredible day together. She said that she had never felt more at ease with anyone. You are bringing out a side of her that no one has seen in a long, long time, she told me. Pamela really trusts and likes you, Jeremy."

Do not get me wrong - that was excellent news. It was outstanding. Indeed, Pamela and I really seemed to click yesterday. I was ecstatic that she enjoyed herself so much. However, I had to remind myself of something. I had Trish here, and we were alone. Again, how many times would I be presented with this opportunity? It was time to change the subject, and focus on Trish. Talk about Trish, and not others. I asked the first question that I could think of.

"You're a physical fitness instructor back in Toronto?"

"Yes, I am."

"What is that like?"

She took a moment to answer. "I cannot complain. I love physical fitness; I have been training and staying in shape for the better part of a decade. I go to work each day and I get to do what I love and, even better, help others too."

"You work at a gym? How long have you worked there?"

"Nine years."

"Nice place?"

"Really nice place," she stressed. "I started out as a salesgirl nine years ago, then became a trainer shortly thereafter." Trish giggled and went on, "It was bad at first. I had to lifeguard the swimming pool. But, I got to work with others soon enough."

"What type of money does being a fitness instructor pay? That is, if you don't mind telling?"

"I get paid $19.33 an hour. Not bad, I guess. I usually work from five in the morning until two in the afternoon. I am used to waking up each morning at three o'clock and going for a two mile jog. That is something I have had to adjust to here on the island. I haven't been waking up until six. My body is still all out of whack from it."

"Have you found any good jogging trails here?"

"Kristanna and I have actually been using the service road that encircles the island. You know, the road you had built for your Jeep. I don't feel right without a daily jog." Trish laughed again. "I tried to get Lindsay to go jogging with me. She lasted about a half-mile."

"I am certain that Kristanna is probably the only person on the island who has a chance of keeping up with you," I offered. "She is really into fitness herself."

"I'll whip all of the girls into shape!" Trish snickered. "My first priority is Lindsay. You wouldn't think this about a little 95 pound body like hers, but that girl eats way too much fast-food. At least she is eating right here. Course, she doesn't have much of a choice. None of us do."

"I like to think the food that I have here is healthy," I said. "I certainly do not want to add to any bad habits for any of the girls here, or even myself."

Trish nodded her head. "The food is not only healthy, but delicious. Your housekeeper, Louisa, is an outstanding cook. Best food I have ever tasted has been on this island, bar none. Just don't tell my mom that I said that."

I chuckled at her. "Don't worry, I won't. Hey, I have a question. Where is Lindsay, anyway? I do not see you and her apart all that often. Is she feeling okay?"

Trish made a face. "Lindsay is with Amy right now. She wanted to hang out with her and Camille for a while. Why, I do not exactly know. But I'll hook up with her later on. We are going to play some video games in the recreation room."

"Lindsay is exploring a bit. Opening her wings, so to speak, and branching out. She is really young. It is okay, Trish. I am certain when things are all said and done, you and her will spend a lifetime together. You and Lindsay ... the two of you go together so very well. I have never seen two people who belong together more than you and her do."

"Yeah ... I like to think that way too," Trish murmured. "I have never felt stronger for anyone in my whole, entire life. I love that girl. I love her more than anything."

"I know you do."

Trish reached out across the library table and placed her hand upon my wrist. "I have a favor to ask, Jeremy. I was talking with your friend, Kristanna, earlier. She says that you have a whole mess of scuba diving equipment here on the island. Kristanna also says that you love to go diving. If it is not too much trouble to ask, I would love to go diving with you. I ... I have nothing else to do until later on."

"Oh? Do you have any diving experience?"

"I'm certified, baby!"

"You're a certified diver?"

"Yeppers," Trish clarified, nodding her head. "I took both basic and advanced scuba diving courses at this place back in Ontario called Scuba 2000 a couple of years ago. I also took courses in nitrox and advanced nitrox. Since then, I have been diving off the coasts of Canada, New York and, while visiting friends there, Florida. I also went diving in Bora Bora while on vacation there last year."

"Excellent," I told her. "I would not have to hold your hand and watch over you as if you were a novice diver. So, dear ... you want to go diving right now? We can get all of the equipment from the storage room, then take the big boat out to the ocean. Or, we can do something else first, if that is what you want. Whatever you want is fine with me."

"I'd like to go diving now," Trish informed me.

I was more than happy and content to just sit here and continue the discussion with Trish. I really liked this woman, and wanted to get to know her. She was such a cool and interesting person. I wish Trish's feelings for me were as powerful as they were for Lindsay. I could easily toss her into the mix with Devon and Pamela. Likewise, I could easily envision her emerging from the trio as my favorite. My feelings for Trish could potentially be that strong.

However, there was nothing for me to complain about. The conversation may not continue, but apparently I was going to spend a sizable portion of the afternoon with Trish. Even better, it was going to be one-on-one time with her.

"You're the boss. Not me." I stood up from the chair here within the library and extended my hand toward her. "Let's go see what's swimming out there in the ocean today."

"Awesome!" she exclaimed, accepting my hand.

-------

A few minutes past noon-time, while aboard the big boat, Trish and I counted to three, then back-rolled into the 77 degree waters of the Pacific and let the current wash over us. I felt the familiar calm wash over me all at once. There is nothing like the serenity of being suspended in mid-water and the concurrent rush of flying past dizzying arrays of color and life. From 80 FSW (feet of seawater), Trish and I could clearly see the bottom of the boat and make out the coral heads nearly 50 yards in all directions.

Of course, the two of us came prepared with all of the necessary equipment for the big plunge. An oxygen tank and helmet, fins, gloves, weight belt, buoyancy compensator and, needless to say, a wetsuit were the bare essentials for any diver. I also brought along an emergency air source, an underwater watch, blunt tip knife and a laser flashlight.

Our first close encounter with marine life was with a colony of friendly sea lions, who were more than happy to show us how slow we were when we attempted playing a game of catch me with them. Trish then pointed out a hawksbill turtle which, unfortunately, had a ten-foot-long fishing line attached to its mouth. I tried to cut the line, but the turtle got scared and swam away before I could finish. We then came across several spotted eagle rays, free-swimming moray eels, streaming schools of French and blue striped grunts, and gigantic grouper and lobster.

Since Trish was an experienced diver, I had decided to bring my Sony DCR-TRV315 digital camera, complete with underwater housing, along for the trip as well. My thinking was that, because Trish knew what she was doing in the water, I could get some really good snapshots of the various sea life without having to worry about her safety. I wound up taking about 200 photographs over the course of our dive.

Trish kept close to me as we explored the dizzying depths off the eastern coast of the island. The visibility was superb, and I could tell that Trish was fascinated with the beautiful coral that lined the ocean floor 100 feet deep. We spotted an even greater variety of marine life - aarawana, frogfish, halibut, eagle rays and cichlids, just to name a few. Trish and I were also awarded with a very pleasant treat when a pod of affectionate dolphins streaked by us.

At one point, I found a dome-shaped eye looking back at me in the sand. I stopped immediately, then gently swept my flashlight from side-to-side, in front of and behind me. It was a slumber party of stingrays, their wings overlapping one another. I motioned for Trish to come closer (but not too close, as stingrays can be deadly if provoked), and the two of us proceeded to hover over the brute for quite some time.

If not for the competition - a pack of hunting squid, a delicate octopus dancing clear of its den, a crab devouring its lobster dinner (which made me jealous, by the way), a giant parrotfish tucked under a ledge, prowling tarpon, a curious snapper and free-swimming moray eel - Trish and I could have passed the rest of our dive enraptured by the motionless stingrays. They were beautiful.

I guided Trish a little further out into the ocean. The canyons located here were not only breathtaking, but quite dramatic as well. Trish certainly did seem overly enthralled with those canyon tops encrusted with healthy coral and sponge life. Plus, the marine life here was even better.

A single grouper joined us, tagging along like a friendly neighborhood dog. Together, we swam close above the coral and then floated over the abyss until landing upon the other side. A pair of cherela emerged from the abyss as well. At the same time, a duo of spotted eagle rays swooped onto the scene - like two kites catching an updraft in the blue, triangular wings outstretched and long tails lagging behind. They circled us once, twice, vanished and then re-appeared. They seemed just as curious about us as we were about them.

The reefs were gorgeous as well, with healthy coral, large tube and barrel sponges, and abundant anemones with their attendant brittle stars and shrimp. Each coral head was crowned by teeming masses of colorful reef fish and cloudy pockets of fish fry. Indeed, it seemed like a completely different universe down here. It was simply breathtaking.

Trish returned to my side and we proceeded to ride the currents and watch the circle of life unspool around us in the reef's fairytale turrets and spires. Soon, I remembered that there was actually a sunken ship in close proximity to us. Knowing that she would find it interesting, I motioned for Trish to follow me further into the depths.

Minutes later at 124 feet underwater, Trish and I were standing on the sea floor with the bow towering way above us. The wreck had corals and sponges growing all over it. The sinking of this ship was a terrible tragedy, indeed, but new life had since sprung up on it as it was a coral reef.

Unfortunately, the vessel - a fishing boat that was reported missing in 1944 and not discovered until 1976 - appeared to be in a lot worse shape than the last time I visited it. The wooden deck and structures above it were rotted away, but the steel skeleton remained, although it was slowly but surely being destroyed by corrosion from the salty sea. That was depressing to me.

Unlike the last time I went diving here (eight months ago with Kristanna), there were large holes in the side of the ship, with entire sections already caved in. Originally, I wanted to take Trish on a swim through the cabin and engine room. However, I chose not to in fear of that if either of us bumped into something, we could be trapped inside!

While Trish and I were curiously exploring the wreck, our dive computers indicated that we had stayed underwater too long to safely return to the surface. Thus, we had to stop on our way back topside and decompress before getting out of the water. After 45 minutes of underwater exploration, Trish and I finally returned to the boat and climbed aboard it.

Naturally, Trish claimed that she had a whale of a time (no pun intended) and made me promise that I would escort her back into the depths sometime soon for another dive. Also, it should come as no great surprise that next time, Trish insisted, she wanted Lindsay to come with us as well. That would be most interesting. Lindsay had never even stepped foot in the ocean (let alone went diving) in her young life. I may be an experienced diver, but I am not an instructor!

After we made our return to the island and docked at the pier, the skies above us literally opened up all at once - resulting in a thick, heavy downpour of rain. This was how torrential rain usually started around here. The whole day had been scenic and balmy, with blue skies for as far as the eye could see. Then, a single heartbeat later, clouds form and bring with them a substantial amount of precipitation.

By the time Trish and I had made our way to the mansion, there were bright flashes of lightning and loud rumbles of thunder to go along with that downpour of rain. Once inside, I informed Trish that this was the beginning of what would likely be three or four terrifying electrical storms before she and the others went back home in five-and-a-half weeks.

-------

"Isn't this great?" Trish mused several hours later, idly relaxing at the dining room table along with Lindsay, Kristanna, Amy and Camille. As I lounged within the comfort of my voyeur room and eavesdropped on their conversation, Trish slumped down into her chair at the table and sipped her cup of hot chocolate. "We're in a tropical paradise if there ever was one, yet we're stuck inside right now because of a massive rainstorm. This is just like Toronto!"

"At least the thunder and lightning stopped," Camille observed. "Be thankful for that. It was scary for a bit."

Amy turned around in her chair and glanced outside by way of the big picture window. It looked cold and gray as the rain continued to audibly bullet and pelt the glass. It was definitely not the type of weather to be stranded outside in. It was wise to stay inside and keep dry.

"It's not bad," Amy offered, turning to face her friends once again. "Jeremy said it won't rain all that often. We will get big storms like this even less." The red-head paused and added, "I rather be stuck inside this mansion during a storm than be back in Ohio on the nicest of days."

"You've got a point there," Camille nodded. "Where would we rather be? We're in the lap of luxury here. I could be back home in San Diego right now, working. Working at the old, boring real estate office. I want to be here."

"I'm not complaining," Lindsay squealed with glee, holding her little hands up and admiring them. She then extended her fingers and added, "Look. I gave myself a manicure tonight."

"I guess everyone is right," Trish relented. "We have been here for well over a week and this is the first sign of any kind of bad weather. I better stop my complaining."

"It could be vorse," Kristanna remarked in her unique voice and accent. "Yew could be at me family's farm in Norvay, milking da cows and herding goats!"

"Milking cows and herding goats?" Camille scoffed, her dark eyes wide. As a long-time resident of California, I was quite certain that Camille had never milked a cow or tried her hand at goat herding before. I would like to see her try! Her reaction to the idea, though, was quite amusing.

"It not be so bad," Kristanna giggled. "Of course, I grew up as farm girl. It is in me blood!"

"Milking cows and herding goats will NEVER be in my blood," Camille countered, her tone serious.

"That pet goat Jeremy has on the island is really cute," Lindsay said. "Vincent Van Goat."

"Dat is me goat!" Kristanna exclaimed. "Not Jeremy's! Da pig here - Hogglesvorth - is mine too! Da lamb is mine as well - Da Lambinator. All of da animals belong to me!"

"I've always wondered what it would be like to live on a farm," Trish told the group. "I would like that."

"I wouldn't mind living on a sperm farm," Amy smirked, gaining the full attention of everyone at the dinner table. "You know ... with hundreds, maybe even THOUSANDS, of men ready to pump me full of their sperm at a moment's notice. There would always be someone available to fuck me!"

After a few seconds of silence - where the others simply stared at Amy in pure bewilderment - Kristanna shook her head and finally spoke, "Yew crazy, girl. Yust crazy!"

"Do you remember Hands Across America in the 1980's?" Amy asked the group. "They had one big line of people holding hands from one coast to the other. It was a big-time thing." She paused and added, "Well ... I would like to campaign for Cocks Across America!" My eyes went wide as the nymphomaniac continued, "Line them up ... man after man, from Maine all the way to California. I would get down on my knees and suck every single one of them off until they came in my mouth! I would start at one end and work my way across to the other."

"Oooookay..." Lindsay commented, stunned.

"Yew beyond crazy," Kristanna giggled. "Yew zany crazy!"

Camille shrugged her shoulders. "Seems Amy is always in the mood for a good mouth-fucking."

"How about Muff Across America?" Kristanna inquired.

"Why stop at America?" Trish asked Amy. "Don't forget Canada. We have a great country, too, you know. And trust me when I tell you - plenty of hard cocks there, as well."

"Hard because of women like you," Lindsay told Trish, which brought an appreciative smile to her face.

"Just go for Cocks Across Earth," Camille suggested. "That may be the only thing that keeps her happy."

"Jeremy keeps me happy," Amy mused.

Camille's eyebrows raised as she said, "You better not let Devon hear that. She has latched onto Jeremy and looks at him as her personal property. Anything the rest of us do with Jeremy, she thinks, we're just borrowing him from her."

"Borrow, yes," Amy nodded. "But maybe I don't want to return him. Maybe I want to keep Jeremy for myself!"

As I contemplated the meaning of those words - was Amy in love with me as well? - Devon strolled into the dining room.

For a moment, I was fearful that Devon overheard Amy's words about borrowing me from her, but then choosing not to return me. I was fairly certain that Devon would not have approved of such words from Amy - or any other woman on the island, for that matter. She seemed a bit possessive and, quite obviously, had her sights set on me. All I had to do to remind myself of that was think back to the very poignant and candid remarks she made to Camille about me last week. Devon claimed that she even wanted to marry me! Of course, Devon and I had some rather candid discussions of our own. She was definitely on my list of top favorites.

However, the joyous look on the 27-year-old's face told me that she was unaware of Amy's aggressive comments. Devon made her way to the center of the elegant dining room, then turned toward the five ladies who were gathered at the table.

"Have I got a treat for all of you," she gushed, a big smile on her luscious face. "Take a look at this!"

Once Devon pointed toward the entrance of the dining room, I quickly panned the camera back as all of the other ladies glanced in that same direction. As they nodded and smiled at what they saw before them, I nearly had a heart attack.

Pamela gave a sexy expression and sashayed into the dining room, her high-heels clanking loudly upon the tiled floor. The sweet, beautiful blonde was wearing a long, brown trench coat which went all the way down to her ankles.

I immediately knew what was about to happen. I remembered the recent encounter I had with Pamela on Saturday night, when she had come to my personal suite wearing that very same coat and offered me a wicked, hot lap dance. Ultimately, it resulted in the two of us having a wild, passionate round of sex together. Could the same scenario play itself out here? Could a lap dance from Pamela lead to an all-out orgy? Of course, she gave me a lap dance yesterday as well.

Inside the dining room, the other five ladies were all seated together at the table, which was quite sturdy itself. Meanwhile, Pamela, who was an exotic dancer in her Maryland hometown, was decked-out in the trench coat. It did not take a genius to figure out that she was going to give the girls a steamy strip-show - most likely upon the tabletop.

Even in such a drab coat, Pamela was absolutely stunning. She was the type of woman who looked beautiful no matter the situation. Of course, I knew she that would look a million times better without her coat on...

"Take it off, baby!" Trish snickered, coming across as a patron at a strip club. "Show us what you got!" Apparently, Trish quickly caught onto what was happening here, too.

Pamela grinned heartily before stepping onto a chair, then the sturdy tabletop. Her moves were so fluid and natural. It was easy to tell that the sexy bombshell was a very experienced, professional dancer.

When Pamela slipped the coat off, all of the women smiled with lust while I began to stroke the big bulge in my shorts. That bulge, by the way, was instantaneous!

Her blonde hair was long and flowing, styled in natural waves, and her lovely face had just a few touches of mascara. That face did not require a lot of make-up to look radiant. It was naturally that way - just like the rest of her.

Pamela was dressed in a lingerie-style outfit. She wore a transparent lace bra which was black. Her perky nipples were clearly visible through the light, thin material. Below her waist, the exotic dancer wore a lacey black skirt which was rather small. It clung to her upper thighs in a delicious manner and was also of the see-through variety. A bright, metallic orange G-string could be seen through the flimsy skirt. The whole outfit was topped off with a pair of black high-heels which accentuated her tanned, luscious legs.

In a nutshell, Pamela looked absolutely marvelous. One could only wish that all of the dancers in clubs across the world could look even HALF as good as Pamela did. Pamela was so gorgeous that she could easily sell out a 100,000 seat football stadium, with plenty of standing-room only sections included, for one of her sexy, live performances. I was absolutely certain of that!

When Devon produced a portable stereo and pumped its volume loud, a rowdy, raucous song simply erupted from its speakers. I quickly realized that this particular song - "Girls, Girls, Girls" (performed by Motley Crue) - would be ideal for a so-called gentleman's club. I also figured that Pamela had performed to this tune many times in the past. Now, it was time for her to do her thing again.

The group of ladies looked on with interested eyes as Pamela pranced toward the center of the large table. Yes ... it was easy to tell she had done this sort of thing before.

Pamela placed both hands on her flat stomach and turned her face to the side, then began twirling her hips in a lusty, sensual motion. Some of the girls started to squirm and fidget about with arousal in their seats. Meanwhile, I kept stroking the pulsating lump within my shorts.

Pamela continued with that same motion for several seconds before turning her face toward the assembled group of ladies. She hiked her skirt up to her waist and let it fall down just as quickly, teasing the ladies as only she could, then slowly walked around the perimeter of the table with a sensual ease and eroticism which I totally admired.

Pamela stopped and turned toward her room-mate and lover, Amy. She stood before her and bumped her voluptuous body to the music. Amy could do nothing but gasp and glance at the others for a quick second before turning her attention back to Pamela. It was obvious that she really enjoyed Pamela's lewd, suggestive dance. Of course, I think it is safe to assume that Amy enjoyed mostly everything about Pamela.

The blonde smiled down at her friend and cupped Amy's chin with her right hand, then blew her a kiss with her left hand. Once again, Amy squirmed about in her seat as Pamela giggled before moving onto the next woman - Camille.

The intoxicating Latina produced a dollar bill and held it up. Pamela smiled and shrugged her shoulders, then took the dollar bill from her. Because of the tip, the beautiful stripper decided to spend more time dancing in front of Camille than she did for Amy. Pamela moved her curvaceous body toward Camille, still bumping and grinding to the lively beat, and gave her quite an entertaining show.

Trish was next in line. It seemed as if she had a real fascination with Pamela's shapely ass. Who could blame her? The Canadian had been gawking at it, through the transparent skirt, since Pamela had begun dancing for Camille.

Pamela turned and looked back over her shoulder, noticing that Trish was staring right at her ass. She grinned, then turned toward her. Trish looked up and gave an embarrassed smile as the stripper continued moving to the raucous tune.

Pamela stepped away from Trish and turned around, then leaned over slightly, causing her shapely ass to jut-out toward the woman's face. Trish gasped, obviously enjoying this, and then Pamela began gyrating her hips while looking back at her, smiling sweetly the whole time. She continued to flaunt her luscious ass at Trish for quite some time, before finally stopping and moving onto the next woman.

Lindsay produced a dollar bill of her own, and Pamela graciously took it. She placed both hands on the side of her head and squatted down in front of Lindsay, then began darting her body from side-to-side with a sensual grace and ease which, very simply, could not be put into words.

Lindsay blushed and flashed another dollar bill. Pamela took it and tossed her head back, and rolled it in circles. Kristanna, who was seated next to Lindsay, giggled as she offered four kroner to Pamela. Pamela did not accept it, but got a good laugh out of the Norwegian currency anyway. However, she did offer the 23-year-old a sumptuous routine. Kristanna's thoughts were there, at least, with the kroner.

After giving each of the girls an individual show, Pamela went back to the center of the table and began grinding her body in unison with the music. She spun on a high-heel, appearing sexy as ever, with a big smile on her lovely face. Meanwhile, Devon stood off to the side and smiled with the stereo atop her shoulder, enjoying the show in her own way.

Pamela undid the lone, single button on the front of her see-through skirt and easily pulled it off in one, quick motion. She turned, now wearing just the transparent black bra and metallic orange G-string, and gave all of the ladies at the table a good show. She held the skirt above her head with a single hand, then began twirling it about in circles while rotating her rounded hips at the very same time.

The assembled group of ladies began to hoot, holler and cheer as Pamela tossed the skirt off to the side. She placed both hands on her hips and moved her body in a lusty motion, while slowly rotating in a full circle so everyone could get a view of her from every conceivable angle.

As you may have already imagined, by this time, I had my cock out and was stroking it madly. Pamela was just so very beautiful - especially when she danced and stripped. There was no way that I could resist stroking in this situation.

Was there anything not to like about this moment? Pamela had an adorable disposition, innocent, doe-like eyes wide as saucers and a body that looked like it had been designed by a cyber-geek at Pixar Studios. No normal man could not help but to admire Pamela for all of her physical charms, with his mouth usually ending up on the floor. Pamela was an out-of-this-world beauty who, truth be told, seemed more like a fantasy than a reality to me. Everything about her seemed perfect. Plain and simple, Pamela was astonishing.

Of course, while I realized that Pamela despised being an exotic dancer because of the way the common customer treated her (that was one of many reasons, actually), I figured that she was having a good time right now while putting on a show for all of her lady friends here on the island. Otherwise, I simply figured that Pamela would not be doing this. I did not have a problem with her showcasing herself like this for all of the others. After all, everyone here was friends.

After the events of yesterday, I did not particularly care to look at or think of Pamela as a stripper any more. I was beyond that. However, I was obviously enjoying this little demonstration. Pamela was clearly enjoying herself, so I was going to do the same, exact thing.

Lindsay, who had offered two dollars in tips thus far, flashed another bill. Pamela strutted over to the petite blonde and graciously accepted it. She then stood at the edge of the table on that side, directly above Lindsay, and bucked her hips as if she were getting pounded by a cock (or dildo, perhaps) during sex. Pamela closed her luminous eyes and sighed, pretending that an orgasm was forthcoming.

That little bucking display caused several of the girls to reach into their pockets or purses and produce dollar bills. Pamela took care of all of them, giving each the same bucking motion after taking their money. Kristanna even snatched a dollar from Lindsay so she could experience some of the up-close and live action, too. No one was going to grow tired of this particular routine.

The 30-year-old, who now had a wad of bills in her hand, tossed them onto the floor beside the table. Apparently, Pamela did not feel like holding onto the money any longer.

Her next move was to return to the center of the table. Pamela unclasped her see-through bra in front and peeled it from her breasts. All of the girls looked on in appreciation as they got a full view of those tight, 38d-sized globes. Like she had earlier done with the skirt, Pamela held the bra above her head and spun it in circles, while also vibrating her body in a way so her breasts would flop and bounce about.

The young woman fell to all fours on the dinner table and positioned herself so that her shapely ass was directly in front of Trish's view. She twitched and wiggled her hips for Trish, who had admired her ass so much just moments ago.

After several seconds, Pamela turned toward Trish and stood on her knees, then blatantly pinched her own nipples. Trish smiled and shook her head, and offered another dollar.

Pamela took the money and rose to her feet, then went back to the center of the table. All of the girls were now squirming about wildly - obviously very excited - as the seasoned dancer thumbed the side straps of her G-string.

In what best could be described as a simply awesome display of eroticism, the blonde gently slid the G-string down her hips and thighs as her body shimmied and shook to the beat of the loud, raucous music.

Now completely nude, Pamela trapped the G-string on her right foot and then lifted her leg, and planted the garment directly on top of Trish's head. All of the other girls laughed and cheered as Trish took hold of the G-string and brought it to her nose. She sniffed it, and smiled.

At center table, Pamela shimmied her hips to the music while running both hands over her large, ample breasts. The seductress turned and twirled her ass before Trish once again, giving her another show which was truly appreciated.

Pamela then grinned and clapped her hands together in three second intervals, and soon the group of ladies caught on and started doing the same thing.

Everyone in the room was applauding as Pamela, the only one who had stopped, jumped down from the table. Then, she sashayed over to the far wall and faced the girls.

As the end of the song approached, Pamela dropped to her knees and sat back, then opened her thighs wide. All of the ladies had a clear view of her pussy as she closed her eyes and started bumping her body. Needless to say, the girls were still clapping. Pamela continued with the simulated sexual motions until the rowdy song finally came to an end.

The applause continued for several seconds, during which time Pamela opened her eyes and smiled graciously at all of the girls. She was grateful for their enthusiastic response. Likewise, it was readily apparent that the ladies had been entertained greatly by this incredibly sensuous young woman.

Maybe I did not realize how much the ladies enjoyed the show until Amy stood up from the table. I about blew my load as I noticed that Amy's denim shorts were unbuttoned, with the zipper down in front. Along with the dreamy look on her face, it was quite obvious that she had been playing with herself during the memorable strip-show.

Any doubt of this was squashed when Amy reached into her shorts, and rubbed herself with three fingers. Her gaze was totally fixated on Pamela as she stood, facing her.

"I dink SOMEONE needs a lap dance!" Kristanna giggled, her eyes focused on Amy.

"Why don't you give a lap dance to Lindsay?" Trish said to Pamela, which in turn, caused the 18-year-old to blush red with embarrassment. "I think she would really like one." Indeed, it was abundantly clear that Lindsay was aroused by the display Pamela had just put on for all of the ladies.

"Oh ... would you like a lap dance, honey?" Pamela cooed at Lindsay. After a brief hesitation, Lindsay offered a shy smile and nodded her head in affirmative. "Pull a chair out to the center of the room, and I'll give you a lap dance."

Lindsay nodded her head in agreement before she rose from the table and eventually brought a chair to the middle of the room with her. Without a single stitch of clothing on, Pamela positioned herself directly in front of Lindsay as she took a seat in the chair. Then, with her back turned to Lindsay, Pamela struck a pose and started to slowly grind her beautiful, rounded hips to an unheard rhythm.

Lindsay smiled in total appreciation as Pamela then turned around and cupped her breasts in a very seductive manner. The exotic dancer soon closed the distance between them and moved her bare pelvis onto Lindsay's lap and mashed herself against it. Pamela flung her head back sharply, her blonde hair whipping about, then offered Lindsay a friendly smile. Indeed, Pamela loved flaunting her considerable physical assets and charms for the others. She was enjoying herself.

Pamela smiled as she ran her hands along Lindsay's chest, giving those luscious breasts a good squeeze in the process. The vixen grinned in return, then cupped Pamela's own breasts with her hands and squeezed them firmly. Lindsay moaned as Pamela rewarded her with a faceful of her breasts. The duo giggled as Lindsay them embraced Pamela with both arms.

Pamela shook her body vigorously, finally freeing herself from Lindsay's curious clutches. She proceeded to twist her body so that she was now sitting sideways in her lap, with two arms hooked around her neck. Lindsay moaned in pure desire as Pamela shot her a seductive glance.

Pamela turned so that her back was facing Lindsay, then she placed her ass in her lap and did some more gyrating. Lindsay blushed again as she took hold of Pamela's hips and squeezed tightly. Soon, however, Pamela got up and took a step away, but continued to dance and gyrate.

"Shake that ass, baby!" Lindsay encouraged, finally saying something bold and provocative. She had been so shy during these opening 11 days, but Pamela was currently bringing out a side of her that I had never seen before. "Shake it!"

As Pamela returned to Lindsay, it felt as if my cock was about to explode here in the voyeur room. She took another seat in Lindsay's lap and jammed her large breasts hard upon the teen-ager's face. Pamela shimmied and shook her large rack across Lindsay's lovely face for quite some time as both ladies now offered each other warm and inviting embraces.

The case could be made that Pamela was giving Lindsay more than usual for the typical lap dance. It is not all that common for the customer to do such a considerable amount of touching. On the other hand, however, lap dances usually do not end with the two people having sex with one another. Obviously, that was where this little tryst was headed.

Pamela managed to break free from Lindsay's arms and then slid down to her knees. Now perched between Lindsay's spread thighs, Pamela reached forward and placed the palm of her hand across Lindsay's pussy and gently massaged her there.

After several seconds of the playful petting, Pamela grinned with obvious desire and slithered back up across Lindsay's little body. She caressed the sweetheart's breasts with both hands while also planting a kiss on her lips.

Eventually, Pamela stepped away and turned her back to Lindsay, and started dancing with her hot ass in the blonde's face. Bent over at the waist while bumping her hips, Pamela was offering Lindsay a nice view of her exposed ass and pussy.

She held this position for a while before taking a seat in her friend's lap, her back still turned. Pamela took hold of Lindsay's hands, pulled them around her body and then firmly placed them on her bare breasts. Lindsay did the rest with a smile on her face, as she cupped and squeezed the big mounds. The two ladies were obviously enjoying what was happening, and it was easy to see that both of them were very excited.

Pamela ground her ass across Lindsay's lap while saying, "Are you enjoying yourself, babydoll?"

"Yes!" Lindsay squealed, kneading the dancer's breasts. "Better than I ever imagined it could be." She moved a hand downward, between Pamela's thighs, then blatantly massaged the sensitive area. "Will you strip for me, all summer?"

"Oh yes," Pamela replied, her body stiffening in pleasure. "I'll do anything you want me to, honey."

"This summer is going to be the BEST EVER!" Lindsay gushed.

Pamela turned around in Lindsay's lap, so that they were facing one another, then pressed her lips onto hers for a far-reaching kiss. Lindsay's body stiffened for a moment or two, but then she relaxed and returned Pamela's tongue-laced kiss with one of her own. The two ladies shared a very warm embrace as well, their tongues mingling in erotic unison.

In a fit of passionate rage, Amy immediately closed the distance between Pamela and herself, and then grabbed the stripper by the shoulders and pulled her away from Lindsay. An instant later, both ladies growled with intense lust as Amy smashed her lips onto Pamela's mouth for a searing kiss. Apparently, Amy could not take any more of this sweet, divine torture. She needed a piece of the action, too!

A few of the other women grinned with obvious arousal and delight as they got up from the table and made their way over to the embracing couple. Trish reached out with her right hand and placed it on Pamela's lush, perfect ass, squeezing and massaging it roughly.

Kristanna went one step further by dropping to her knees behind Pamela, then reaching around her slender waist and linking her hands together there. Meanwhile, Trish grabbed Pamela's ass with both hands and really went to town. At the same time, Kristanna, who was still on her knees behind Pamela, spread the 30-year-old's pussy with her fingertips and immediately extended her tongue for a delicious taste.

As could be expected, Pamela was already squirming and writhing about as three women worked over various parts of her body. Obviously the anointed leader, Amy grabbed a big clump of Pamela's hair and gently yanked on it, ending their mutual kiss. Pamela's eyes were ablaze with passion as she stared at Amy, while Kristanna was busy exploring the tender folds of her pussy with her tongue. At the same time, Trish continued to pinch and maul Pamela's ass.

"You nasty slut," Amy growled, giving her room-mate a glare of mad lust. "Those dances you just did were SINFUL!"

"Let me have a taste," Camille sighed, as Amy stepped to the side and allowed the Mexican an opportunity to share a rather forceful, heated kiss with Pamela. Meanwhile, Kristanna was now jamming a pair of fingers in-and-out of Pamela's moist slit at warp-speed, while Trish had one hand on her ass, and the other on her breasts. Amy used this brief respite for herself to get rid of her own clothing.

Off to the side, Lindsay made a move to join the group, but was stopped once Devon placed a hand across her wrist. The two ladies gazed at each other for a moment or two, then smiled and shared a tender, loving kiss.

Amy put an end to the shared kiss between Pamela and Camille, only then to beckon Trish to come forward. The Maple Leaf beauty from Toronto did just that, and then smashed her own mouth onto Pamela's for a passionate kiss. I grinned at the mere sight. This being her fourth big-time kiss with as many people in the last few minutes, Pamela was getting a bit winded. She would be alright, though...

"Oh yeah..." Amy growled, as she watched Pamela and Trish swap their tongues together over an open-mouthed exchange. "Oh yeah ... ravage that stripper's mouth! RAPE IT!"

Now over at the dining room table, Lindsay was squirming about herself as she and Devon continued with their kiss. Devon had her hand inside Lindsay's blouse, and was busy fondling one of her firm, scrumptious breasts.

Amy tapped Kristanna on the shoulder, giving her a signal that it was now her turn to orally worship Pamela's pussy. Kristanna withdrew her lips and tongue from the enchantress' moist folds, then smiled at Amy before rising to her feet and sharing a kiss with her. Once it was over, Amy dropped to her knees behind Pamela and immediately began lashing away at her puffy clitoris with her tongue.

Kristanna and Camille held hands and exchanged smiles as they both watched the kiss between Pamela and Trish intensify to even greater proportions. A moment later, Devon snuck up to Camille and joyfully hugged her from behind. The pair of ladies giggled before pressing their own lips together for a deep, intimate exchange. At the same time, Kristanna walked over to Lindsay and whispered a word or two into her ear, then offered her a kiss directly across the lips.

Soon, Trish wanted to change positions with Devon. Now, Trish and Camille were keeping one another occupied while Devon explored the inner regions of Pamela's mouth with her tongue. Trish and Camille began to rip at each other's clothing, too. Needless to say, Pamela was now well beyond the point of simply being aroused. She was burning up.

Amy was showing Pamela's tender pussy absolutely no mercy or compassion as she violently jammed three (and sometimes four) fingers in-and-out of it at a blistering rate of speed. In the meantime, Amy's tongue was swirling in mad circles. It was clear that she wanted to be the one who helped Pamela experience her first orgasm today.

Devon broke her kiss with Pamela, which allowed the exotic dancer a chance to freely breathe and catch her wind. "Why don't you come back over and get another kiss from Pamela?" Devon said to Lindsay, smiling.

Kristanna nodded her head at Lindsay, who grinned and then made her way over to Pamela. She took a very deep breath just before Lindsay placed her lips on hers for a loving, tongue-filled kiss. Pamela responded by slipping a hand inside Lindsay's blouse and fondling one of her breasts.

As I watched this torrid encounter from the prime comfort of my voyeur room, I could not believe my eyes. I was definitely stroking my cock into a dizzied frenzy. It seemed as if all of the ladies wanted to focus their effort and energy onto Pamela, as a way of re-paying her for such a monumental strip-tease. They were going to GANG-BANG her!

Pamela was squealing and grunting in response to the expert oral and finger work being done upon her pussy, courtesy of the feisty Amy. The red-head even managed to land a few, stinging slaps across Pamela's sweet ass as well, which I am certain did nothing but excite her more.

A few seconds later, Pamela's whole body went rigid as she broke her kiss with Lindsay. The young woman let out a loud, shrieking scream, which was followed by a giggle from Amy. Pamela had just creamed her little pussy - as well as Amy's face. The sight made me smile.

"Oh God..." Pamela moaned once it was over, dropping to her knees in a sign of momentary weakness. Of course, Amy had to take this and twist it around somewhat.

"Ahh ... she wants to be on her knees now!" The other ladies snickered as Amy added, "That's really not the right place for her, though. On your back, girl!"

Pamela let out an exaggerated squeal as she did what was instructed of her. Now on her back, she instinctively spread her thighs and slipped a hand between them, and began to openly masturbate in front of everyone in the room.

Camille moved forward and then dropped to her knees, directly over Pamela's face. Amy smiled and nodded at her - signaling it was okay - before Camille took the final step and lowered her pussy to the vixen's hungry, awaiting mouth.

"Oh yeah..." Camille moaned, her face ablaze with lust, as she mauled her breasts with both hands and began to gyrate herself upon Pamela's probing lips and tongue. "OH YEAH ... that feels so good! So good!"

I then watched as Amy - who was now completely nude - crawled over to her ominous bag-of-toys and began to search through it. What would she pull out of it this time?

Devon and Lindsay were in another kissing contest, but Kristanna and Trish were keeping pace right beside them. Lindsay's blouse was now history, and Devon made sure her bra was soon to follow. I moaned at the mere sight of Kristanna and Trish each stripping one another of their clothing as their heated, passionate kiss continued. The Norwegian had been fully clothed, but all that remained on Trish prior to ten seconds ago was her bra and panties. Camille had ripped off Trish's other clothing earlier...

Devon broke her kiss with Lindsay, then licked her lips in anticipation as she glanced over at Pamela and Camille. It was obvious to me what was on her mind.

My thoughts were then confirmed as a short moment later, Devon settled down between Pamela's outstretched thighs and began lapping away at her pussy. At the same time, Camille continued to moan and squirm about as she mashed her own delicious pussy upon Pamela's swirling tongue.

My eyes went wide with arousal once Amy pulled out a massive, strap-on dildo from within that infamous bag. It was black and appeared to be at least 12 inches in length.

Amy held the tool in her hand for several seconds, while keeping an eye on the three-way coupling in front of her. Then, Amy turned toward Lindsay and gave her a curious look. Soon, she rose to her feet and went over to Lindsay.

"I bet you've never used one of these," Amy said, holding the nasty strap-on up for Lindsay to see. The blonde shook her head in response as Amy went on, "Well ... I think it's high time you learn. You need to know."

Lindsay yelped with desire as Amy whisked her shorts down in a heartbeat. Next came her panties, and then Lindsay appeared a bit antsy as Amy placed the strap-on's harness around her waist, before buckling it into place.

Lindsay looked down with wide eyes at the massive dong which protruded outward from her pelvis, before turning her attention to Amy. "I've never even SEEN one of these..."

"They're real easy to use, honey," Amy told her. "Here. You can have a test run or two on Pamela over there."

A moment later, Devon smiled and accordingly withdrew her face from between Pamela's quivering thighs as Amy escorted Lindsay over. The red-head then tapped Camille on the shoulder, signaling for her to dismount from Pamela's face. When she did, the 30-year-old's eyes went wide with lust as she got her first glimpse of the dildo-wielding Lindsay.

"You should do her doggie-style for now," Amy suggested, her hand across Lindsay's tight ass. "It's better that way." Amy's voice became more strict as she smacked Pamela on the leg. "Come on, Pammy! On your hands and knees!" Like a submissive, Pamela immediately did what she was told. Amy smiled and gloated, "All fours! Just like a bitch!"

A moment later, Pamela suddenly hid her face and screamed out in total lust as Lindsay - who was on her knees behind her - jammed the massive strap-on dildo into her pussy.

Amy offered the teen-ager some pointers and advice, but it seemed as if Lindsay really did not need all that much help. A wicked smile came to her face as she began to churn her hips back-and-forth, the huge dong invading and piercing its way throughout Pamela's precious folds.

"Fuck her harder!" Amy encouraged Lindsay, offering her a hard slap on the ass for emphasis. "FUCK HER HARDER!"

Obviously liking this new side of herself, Lindsay grinned and then really started to blast Pamela with the strap-on dildo. Pamela screamed and cried out in response, also now burying her face and pounding her fist upon the carpeted floor in the process. This was too much...

"Oh, come here, sweet thing," Devon said to Camille, grasping hold of her wrist and pulling her closer. "Did Pamela get you all hot and bothered with her tongue?" Camille nodded her head as Devon continued, "Don't worry, honey. I'll be happy to finish you off."

As Kristanna was in the midst of worshiping Trish's full breasts with her hands and tongue, Devon pulled Camille down to the floor with her. She offered the hot Latina a deep kiss, before gliding southward and slipping her head between her thighs. An instant later, Camille began to moan out her pleasure just as she had before.

A wave of lust had overtaken all of the ladies in the dining room. Fortunately, I was witnessing it live from the voyeur room. Even better, this encounter was being archived by my surveillance equipment. I could re-live it any time...

Meanwhile, Amy still found it necessary to repeatedly swat Lindsay on the ass as she plunged her way in-and-out of Pamela's pussy. A moment later, Amy finally relented and, with a smile, backed away from the squirming couple. Indeed, Lindsay's whirlwind education on how to use a big strap-on dildo was over. She now knew what to do with it.

Amy retrieved her bag-of-toys, and began searching through it once again. This time, she pulled out an even BIGGER strap-on dildo. Snickering, Amy held it up for the others to see. I simply shook my head in amazement.

Amy returned to the lust-couple, and tossed the bigger dildo onto the floor directly beside Pamela's face. I smiled to myself as Pamela's eyes went wide as she stared at the obnoxious thing. It must have been 18 inches long!

"Make that nasty blonde cum!" Amy exclaimed, her words directed at Lindsay. "Make her cum! Other people have to get their turn with her, too. So hurry up!"

Speaking of such things, Camille screeched and wailed out in utter lust as Devon helped her achieve an orgasm with her skilled, talented tongue.

Lying flat on her back, Camille continued to writhe and squirm about even in the after-effects of her orgasm. That was obviously because Devon's face had not left the silken joining of her thighs yet. Her tongue just kept lapping away at Camille's soaked slit. I could tell that Devon was really enjoying the fruits of her labor...

Meanwhile, Kristanna and Trish were locked in yet another heated kiss. Kristanna, in fact, was perched upon Trish's trusting lap as the two ladies traded both their lips and tongues in the open air. Indeed, Kristanna was a big hit amongst all of the ladies - just as I knew she would be.

It appeared as if Pamela's body was about to burst from the harsh, rough treatment she was receiving courtesy of Lindsay. On her hands and knees with her ass perched high, Pamela screamed out and pounded her fist upon the carpeted floor once again as Lindsay continued to blast away at her.

I smiled at the sudden realization that Pamela was in the sweet process of orgasm - her second of the evening thus far. Lindsay obviously caught on too, as she slowed her powerful strokes but continued to barrel the dildo into her new lover until Pamela simply collapsed onto the floor.

Lindsay unstrapped the dildo's harness and leaned over, kissing the side of Pamela's face as the exotic dancer breathed in short, rapid gasps. Just a brief glimpse of Lindsay's perfect, little ass as she bent over and kissed Pamela sent an electric shockwave shooting throughout me.

An evil gleam came to Amy's eyes as she picked the bigger strap-on dildo (18 inches?) up from the floor. Grinning, she twirled it by its strap above her head and called out, "Who wants to fuck our resident rag-doll next?"

Devon was still nestled between Camille's thighs, and may have been on her way to bringing her another orgasm. With those two out of the running, Kristanna broke her kiss with Trish and raised her hand. "Me!" she said, smiling.

"You know how to put one of these on?" Amy smirked, extending the strap-on with her right hand. Kristanna slipped out of Trish's lap and made her way over to Amy, a definite smile on her face. She took the instrument and fastened it around her waist.

"I vant to fuck her missionary," Kristanna sneered.

"What's stopping you?" Amy asked, matter-of-factly.

"Oh God..." Pamela whined, as Amy flipped her over onto her back. "N-Not again!" the stacked blonde cried, just before Kristanna mounted her in the missionary position and sunk that enormous dong directly into her pussy.

I smiled and shook my head at the sight of Kristanna as she immediately began to hump away at the poor woman. Pamela may have been nearing exhaustion, but I knew that she wanted - no - she NEEDED more. I could see the look of extreme hunger in her eyes. I grinned again while these thoughts went through my mind, as I busily stroked my cock.

Another smile came to my face as I watched Amy take the lovely Lindsay into her arms, and kiss her deeply. Amy was still close enough to what was happening between Kristanna and Pamela. Therefore, Amy could continue to oversee and make sure that Pamela got what she deserved - a gang-bang. Eventually, Amy released Lindsay from her clutches.

"Oh God..." I moaned out loud, as Devon had now risen up to her hands and knees as she continued to orally service Camille's sweet pussy with her lips and tongues. Devon's picture-perfect ass was upturned and wiggling about slightly. I nearly blew my load at the mere sight of it.

Things became even more interesting once Lindsay and Trish realized that they were the only two in the dining room who were not currently occupied. That quickly changed, however, as the pair of lovers embraced and kissed each other. There was a special chemistry between these two ladies. It also helped that Trish was head-over-heels in love with Lindsay.

"TELL ME THAT YOU'RE A SLUT!"

That loud, ravenous scream caused me to immediately turn my attention towards its source, which was Amy. I looked at her with wide eyes as she now clutched Pamela's hair with her hand, looking down at her expectantly. Meanwhile, of course, Kristanna was still hammering away at Pamela with that strap-on dildo in the missionary position.

"Tell ME that you are a SLUT!" Amy demanded again, now yanking on Pamela's hair.

The 30-year-old's face was full of anxious lust as she glared up at Amy, while also grunting with each forward, powerful dildo-stroke of Kristanna's. Indeed, she looked as if her body could spontaneously combust any second now.

"TELL ME!"

"I'm a slut!"

"SAY IT LOUDER!" the red-head insisted, now grasping her chin with her hand. "SAY IT LOUDER!"

"I'M A SLUT!" Pamela exclaimed, her voice literally echoing throughout the room. "Oh God, I'm a slut! I'M A SLUT! And I want to be fucked HARD! FUCK ME HARD!"

That did it for me.

The verbal exchange between Pamela and Amy pushed me over the edge. My cock simply exploded because of it - all over my hand and wrist, and even my arm. I had suddenly made a monumental mess here in my voyeur room, but thought about how wonderful it would be if one of these women was with me right now. A mouth would be a good cleaning tool...

Somewhere within all of this happening, Devon (and her swirling tongue) helped bring another orgasm to Camille. And while Lindsay and Trish continued to kiss and grope one another, Pamela experienced her third orgasm - and her most powerful thus far - of the evening.

When it was over, Pamela lay in an exhausted heap upon the floor. Her whole body was soaked with perspiration. Her large breasts heaved hard for breath, but despite all of that, Amy was not quite finished with her yet. Splendid!

Pamela squealed as she watched Amy secure a new strap-on dildo around her waist. This one was not near as long as the other two; nor was it quite as thick. Pamela squealed once again as she then realized what it was perfect for...

Anal sex!

Amy tossed a bigger strap-on dildo toward Camille, who immediately fastened it into place around her waist. I then realized that both Amy and Camille were going to penetrate Pamela's pussy and ass simultaneously with their strap-ons. It would be a repeat performance of what happened between these three women a few nights ago at the outdoor spa.

As Trish ended her kiss with Lindsay, Camille got onto her back and pulled Pamela on top of her. Pamela was totally exhausted, but showed some sheer enthusiasm with a deafening scream once she took a seat upon the obscene, 10-inch dildo. As it filled her buttery pussy in no time flat, my cock began to twitch with newfound life.

Camille reached out with both hands and brought Pamela down upon her. With the strap-on dildo still embedded within her pussy, Pamela now had the opportunity to share kisses with her new girlfriend, Camille. The pair of ladies did just that, as Pamela's body vibrated gently in response to that big dildo being jammed clear up her pussy.

Not to be outdone, Amy grasped her own dildo and then squatted down directly behind Pamela's upturned ass. The stacked blonde was purely focused upon Camille and the idea of kissing her, but suddenly received a rather harsh (and sudden) reminder of what Amy had in store for her.

Pamela roared out like a wild animal once Amy inserted the dildo into her anus from behind. With that evil gleam still in her eyes, Amy grasped Pamela's hips and squeezed them tightly as the full length of her strap-on suddenly disappeared. Every inch of it was in Pamela's rectum...

"OH FUUUUUCK!" Pamela then screamed out, as Amy and Camille began to thrust their respective dildos in-and-out of her. The two ladies quickly caught a rhythm, and then it was off to the proverbial races.

As Camille pumped her hips upward - driving her dildo hard and fast into Pamela's pussy, Amy would jam her own tool of corruption into the woman's anus. Then they would both pull back, and repeat the same process all over again.

As I watched Amy and Camille absolutely hammer Pamela into D.P. Heaven, my cock formed its new erection rather quickly. Trish was now busy with Devon (sharing each other in a hot, blistering 69), while Lindsay simply sat back in awe and watched what was happening to Pamela. That left dear, charming Kristanna, who turned toward the video camera, which was hidden in the air conditioning vent, and smiled.

Of course, Kristanna was the only other person on the island who knew that my voyeur room existed. She was the only one who knew that I eavesdropped and spied on the ladies during their most private and intimate moments.

Though she obviously could not see me, I smiled in return at Kristanna. As if on cue, the Norwegian then winked at me. "Vatch dis," she silently mouthed, grinning.

"YES!" Amy growled seconds later, as Kristanna secured a strap-on dildo around her waist and then made her way over to the three-way encounter. "PAMELA NEEDS A DILDO IN HER MOUTH!" Amy screamed. "Make it a triple-fuck! YESSSSS!"

The three ladies and their bodies were in a constant state of motion, all of them rocking together on the very brink of madness. None more than Pamela, however, who glared up at Kristanna as she dropped to both knees before her face.

"Oh God, Kristanna!" Pamela managed to get out in a hushed tone, her body bucking about wildly. "OH DEAR GOD..."

Kristanna offered Pamela a smile, before grasping the side of her head and inserting the humongous dildo directly into her awaiting mouth. "Suck it," she told her, as Amy and Camille continued to blast their way into her other two orifices. With Kristanna's knees also on either side of Camille's head, she used this opportunity to reach up with a hand and twiddle away at her clitoris with her fingertips.

But my primary focus was on Pamela, who began slurping away at Kristanna's dildo in a rather greedy fashion. I smiled once more as Kristanna then added to her boiling level of excitement by starting to thrust the crude object in-and-out of her hungry mouth at a torrid rate of speed.

Now, all of them were triple-banging Pamela at once. And best of all, they were going about their business hard.

Pamela cried and wildly shrieked in response as Kristanna repeatedly jammed that thing in-and-out of her mouth. Her hips kept churning about as I smiled at Amy, whose luscious breasts were bouncing and flopping like crazy as she humped her way in-and-out of her room-mate's ass. Meanwhile, as she lay beneath Kristanna upon the floor, Camille inserted a pair of fingers into her swollen folds and pumped away.

This time, however, the orgasm which Pamela experienced was more intense and earth-shattering than any she had EVER went through before. Whether that be today, yesterday or even last year. This was her most powerful orgasm EVER. I simply do not see how any other could have been more intense. Pamela screamed so loudly that I literally feared people on the other side of the world could hear her.

The 30-year-old's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she nearly passed out from the indescribable sensations which were running roughshod throughout her body. She went limp, falling into a helpless, defenseless heap on Camille's body. In the process, Kristanna's dildo slipped from her mouth, and both Amy and Camille relented with their physical assaults. In fact, Amy pulled her dildo out of Pamela's ass while Camille used both hands to embrace and cuddle with her.

After growling out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, I stroked myself to yet another full-blown explosion...

"Oh my God..." Lindsay sighed, as I took a deep breath and reclined back in my chair. "I ... I've NEVER seen anyone treated like this before. Are ... are you okay? Pamela? Are you okay? Everything we did to you ... my GOD! I never saw something..." It took a few seconds, but the beautiful dancer finally found the strength within herself to answer.

"N-Never felt b-b-bet-better..."

I sighed gloriously and smiled in pure happiness, as Pamela's words validated everything which she had just been put through. She needed to do more of those tabletop and scintillating lap dances for the ladies...

"That HAS to be it," Lindsay said. "I don't see how she can possibly withstand anything more."

I smiled once again, while Amy reached out with her hand and tenderly stroked Pamela's face. She had never been so thoroughly and completely used before. It was incredible!

"It's enough," Amy offered. "For her, at least."

"For her?" Lindsay asked, curious. "You ... you're not going to put one of us through all of that ... are you? ME? I ... I was just a virgin until last Thursday!"

"Not one of us, no," Amy replied, with a wicked glare. "I was thinking more along the lines of Jeremy." My whole body stiffened in response to those words as Amy grinned and added, "I say we go to his private suite right now, pound on his door ... and then DEMAND that he fuck us. ALL OF US!"

"Oh God!" I moaned, a sudden chill overtaking my body...



-------

Chapter 12: Assemblage


Rain was still falling outside and the wind gusting quite fiercely when there was a knock on the door to my bedroom on on this dark and dreary evening. Obviously, the ladies had arrived. I could not make out any specific words, but heard some silly giggles mixed with the dialogue. That was typical for this group. After a few seconds, someone made a "Shhhh!" sound that was followed by another gentle knock on the door.

I immediately composed myself. I realized that it would not be wise of me to even give the ladies a hint that I was aware of what they had in store for me. All seven of them were, in fact, going to gang-bang me. I did not want them to know that I eavesdropped on their conversations and sexual encounters with the help of my hidden surveillance cameras. The lone exception for that, of course, was Kristanna. It was her idea that I set the cameras up in the first place! Clearly, she was aware of the voyeur room and its existence. But I did not want the others to suspect anything.

So I had to come across as being genuinely surprised to the ladies - maybe even shocked - at what they wanted to do to me. At the same time, though, I could not over-dramatize. I did not want them to have any suspicions whatsoever. It seemed to be a fine line to tread for me. I even worried about it for several seconds before finally mustering the courage to open the door. As things turned out, though, no acting was needed. My reaction to them was totally sincere.

My jaw literally hit the floor once I got that up-close view of the ladies. All seven of them were standing on the opposite side of the doorway, completely and wondrously nude. No one had a single stitch of clothing on.

Who could I possibly admire the most right now? Was it Pamela or Trish? Both of them were very similar in the fact that they were top-heavy blondes with charming smiles and friendly, sweet personalities to match. Amy and Camille had comparable figures to Pamela and Trish, but different colored hair (red and black, respectively). Kristanna was the leggy Norwegian that stood 5-foot-11 who belonged on the runway of a world renowned fashion show.

It did not take too long for me to realize that two of the women who stood before me were my definite favorites in terms of their physical appearance and overall attitude. One should be a given, while the other may be a surprise.

Was there any man alive who could resist a beauty the looks and likes of which that were personified by Devon? She was simply a goddess in every sense of the word. Devon exuded the warmth and innocence of the girl-next-door, but that quickly gave way as fast as her clothing whenever she was provoked into a sexual encounter. Combine that with Devon's strong will, loyal nature and her obvious feelings for me, and you have a truly luscious woman who could very well be my future wife. I was beginning to (very) seriously entertain the thought of that - and what it would be like.

18-year-old Lindsay had the appearance of a delicious, tempting, innocent little girl. Her long-flowing blonde hair tied into a pony-tail, with bangs combed straight down over her forehead, her pretty blue eyes and that lovely face as she smiled at me in return... WOW.

Lindsay's compact, lithe figure (5-foot-3, 95 pounds and 34c-22-32 measurements) accentuated her youthful appearance to an even greater extent. A woman does not need to have the enormous bust size of a Pamela or Camille for me to notice them, or become completely infatuated with them. Lindsay was living proof of that. There was definitely something unique about this young lady. During the coming days and weeks, I had to get to know Lindsay on a more personal level.

However, I could not take anything away from the other ladies. All of them looked absolutely fabulous as they stood at the entrance to my personal suite. It would be impossible for me to focus solely on Lindsay and Devon. Five lovely blondes, a gorgeous Mexican and a very naughty red-head - every single one of them totally nude. All of them, of course, here for a single reason - to gang-bang me.

"Hello Jeremy," Amy said with a sneery giggle. "I hope you're not feeling too tired tonight."

I gulped my throat and countered, "Why is that?"

"Oh..." Trish interjected, "just for the simple reason that all of us have come here tonight for some satisfaction."

"And we're not leaving until we get it," Devon added. "We don't care HOW LONG it takes, either!"

There was a moment of strained silence where I stood and openly gawked at the collection of ladies while they stared at me in return. All of them were just so beautiful!

As could be expected, though, the insatiable Amy was the woman who first emerged from the group. She put her hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me until my feet were moving backward. Once Amy had guided me over to the round, oversized bed, the others then converged upon me at once. It was like a pack of hungry wolves going after their prey!

-------

Shivers and chills of deep-rooted passion went cascading all throughout my body once Amy grabbed my buttoned-up shirt with both hands and tore it from my body in one quick motion. She then smashed her mouth on mine for a searing kiss as I stood at the edge of the bed. At the same time, Trish and Camille dropped to their knees before me and began ripping at my shorts and briefs. Within a matter of seconds, I had been stripped completely nude. Unbelievable!

My heart started pumping within my chest as Trish took my erection into her hungry mouth and began slurping away on it. Camille held onto its bulging base with her right hand and stroked it briskly. Devon grasped my chin with her hand, then yanked my face toward hers - thus ending the kiss I shared with Amy. Devon then pressed her lips to mine and literally drove her velvety tongue right down my throat.

"This is better than any night-time snack I could ever find in the kitchen!" Trish squealed, as her head bobbed back-and-forth on my hard shaft. The sight of that lovely Canadian upon her knees made my legs feel weak.

Off to the side, Kristanna and Pamela were engaged in a spirited kiss and warm embrace as they slithered together in the throes of mutual pleasure. Meanwhile, Lindsay stood a bit away from the action, but kept an eye on everything. She seemed to have a curious, inquisitive look about her...

Devon was really into the act of kissing me, but that was put to an unexpected halt once Amy grabbed my face and turned it back toward hers. "You'll get your turn," Amy told the shapely blonde, before smashing her lips to mine for yet another deep-rooted kiss.

Devon appeared disappointed for a moment or two, but that changed once she caught a glimpse of sweet, little Lindsay. The pair of ladies smiled at one another for a brief moment, then Devon closed the distance between them and offered the precocious teen-ager a fully-fledged kiss on the lips.

"Oh God..." I moaned on Amy's mouth, as the duo of Trish and Camille were now taking turns sucking my cock. While one would slurp away on it within their mouth, the other licked and swiped at my testicles with her silky tongue. Plus, Trish and Camille sneaked in some quick kisses with one another each time they traded positions with my shaft. They switched off every 15 to 20 seconds, or so.

"Are you ready to satisfy seven women tonight?" Amy asked me in a gruff tone, grasping my chin with her hand, once our own kiss finally ended. "Are you ready to FUCK and SATISFY every single one of us tonight, Jeremy?"

I gulped my throat at her aggressive demeanor and replied, "I don't think it matters if I'm ready or not. I ... I have no choice but to take care of all of you. Co-Cor-Correct?"

"You're right," Amy countered, her green eyes flashing with absolute desire. "It doesn't matter." She dropped to her knees alongside Trish and Camille, but kept her eyes trained on my face. "We're going to give you a night, Jeremy, that you will never ... EVER forget!"

I then took a deep breath and tossed my head back wildly as Amy burrowed her face in and began licking away on my shaft with her tongue, as Trish and Camille did the same thing. All three ladies were perched on their knees in front of me, paying oral homage to my hard, quivering cock.

Lindsay's eyes appeared glazed-over with lust once Devon finally put an end to their mutual kiss. In fact, Lindsay looked a little stunned and erotically bewildered. Did the older, more experienced Devon just give Lindsay the type of kiss that she had only dreamt about thus far in her life? That was the impression I got, at least.

Lindsay still had that far-out look to her as Devon soon noticed that my own lips were no longer occupied. With Amy now on her knees in front of me - alongside Trish and Camille - Devon returned and kissed my mouth deeply.

Kristanna and Pamela then made their way over to Lindsay and started groping her young, nubile body with their hands. Both of them were cupping those ripe, taut breasts when they pressed their lips to either side of Lindsay's angelic face and kissed her sweetly. Lindsay offered both a lustful smile in response, then turned and traded tongues with them. That little girl was becoming quite popular amongst everyone here. Even better, Lindsay was opening up to everyone...

"This island is better than I ever envisioned it could possibly be!" she observed, with a gleeful smile. "Oh dear Lord ... everything I ever dreamt about is coming true!"

Trish and Camille watched Amy work my cock over with her mouth for several seconds, before smiling at one another and backing away. They linked hands and shared an intimate kiss of their own, then Camille reclined back on the carpeted floor and spread her thighs wide. Trish took the initiative as she licked her lips, then dove in face-first for what promised to be a delicious evening snack.

"Hmmmmm ... yeah," Camille purred, arching her neck and back for emphasis. "Lick my pussy, baby. Lick it!"

Even as Devon continued ravaging my mouth with her own, my eyes were wide with undeniable arousal as I watched Trish orally service Camille's moist, sweet pussy with her lips and tongue. Soon, Devon ended our mutual kiss and dropped down to her knees just in front of me. She smiled and looked at Amy, whose mouth was close to bringing my shaft toward an enormous eruption. Amy withdrew my cock from her mouth and returned Devon's smile with one of her own.

"Would you like to suck his cock, too?" Amy asked.

"You know I would!" Devon squealed in response.

"Just don't hog it," Amy said, her hand firmly entrenched on the base of my shaft, as she offered it to Devon. "You can suck him off, but you have to share. Remember that."

The enchantress then took my erection into her mouth and began sucking on it with feverish abandon. Amy kept her hand wrapped around its base, continually pumping away, as she now licked and swiped at my testicles with her tongue. Sounds of lustful hunger and intense passion then began to come from deep within Devon's throat, while her pretty blue eyes never lost contact with my own.

"Oh yeah ... look at that!" Amy taunted, splitting her glares between Devon and yours truly. "Suck that cock!"

Trish and Camille had changed positions and were now locked in a 69. Curled together on the carpet, with their charming faces nestled between one another's thighs, both ladies were reveling in the act of dual oral worship.

"Oh God, Trish ... if you keep that up, you're gonna make me cum!" Camille panted. "HMMMMM, that feels so good!"

"I'll make you cum!" Trish exclaimed. "Don't worry!"

Meanwhile, Kristanna and Pamela had backed Lindsay on the far wall and were now working the little princess into a blissful frenzy. Pamela's mouth was firmly attached to Lindsay's - and it appeared as if neither wanted to break the kiss anytime soon. At the same time, Kristanna was massaging Lindsay's firm breasts with both hands, while alternating her mouth between the young woman's nipples.

Considering that I had seven women all around me - all of them wanting an eventual shot at me - it was a miracle that I had lasted this long without experiencing an orgasm yet.

Well, the miracle was about to run out. I could not take any more of this hot, luscious torture as Devon's blonde head bobbed back-and-forth on my bulging erection, while Amy licked and swiped away at my (very sensitive) testicles with her tongue. My body betrayed me, so to speak, as my cock then erupted like a volcano long before I wanted it to.

As I pumped Devon's mouth full with my sperm, she kept her lips sealed tight around my shaft, obviously not wanting any of its juice to dribble free. She swallowed a good portion of it, but offered a sample of my gooey cream to Amy through an open-mouthed kiss. All the while, my body jerked about in the throes of orgasmic aftermath. This was incredible!

Amy wrapped her arms around Devon's body and then trailed both hands down to that sweet ass, and clutched it tightly. Both ladies, who were still perched upon their knees, shook together with mutual desire as they now kissed one another.

A series of loud, shrieking screams was then heard as Trish and Camille, who had been locked together in the 69 position, both experienced simultaneous orgasms. The pair of goddesses continued to scream and vibrate together in release, their tongues twirling on each other's pussy.

"Where's my toys?" Amy asked after breaking her kiss with Devon. She quickly glanced around the suite, then found her ominous gym bag laying on the floor near the entrance. The naughty red-head had dropped it there moments earlier.

"You're going to use your toys on me?" Devon asked, her expression full of hope.

"If you want me to," Amy replied, scurrying over to her gym bag upon her knees. She retrieved it, then made her way back to Devon. "Which one would you like me to use?" Amy asked, opening the bag and allowing the gorgeous blonde to look inside and rummage through its contents.

"Oh wow ... look at that," Devon mused, pulling a gigantic strap-on dildo out from within the bag. "Use this one!"

As Amy nodded her head and began securing the leather harness around her slender waist, Trish and Camille made their way over to me. Camille shoved me backward, causing me to land flat upon the bed.

"I want his cock," Trish proclaimed, to which Camille nodded her head. The lovely Latina then joined me on the bed and eventually straddled my face, with one knee on either side of my head. An instant later, she lowered her intoxicating pussy to my mouth, and my tongue went to work.

"Oooooh yeah," Camille cooed, weaving her long, slender fingers throughout my short brown hair. "That's it..."

Soon, I moaned as Trish straddled my hips. With Camille already nestled atop my face, Trish impaled her pussy on my shaft and immediately began rocking and thrashing about. It suddenly felt as if a massive earthquake was taking place. An earthquake courtesy of these seven hellcats!

Camille moaned and screeched above me while also mauling her own breasts with both hands as my tongue swiped away at her lush wetness. Needless to say, the 25-year-old tasted absolutely fantastic. My tongue continually lapped away at her damp folds, only adding to her level of pleasure.

Trish put her two cents in there too, as she now leaned forward and cupped Camille's breasts from behind with both hands. "Why touch yourself when you can have someone else do it for you?" Trish asked, grinning, her hands now fiercely gripping and squeezing Camille's large, firm breasts.

At the same time, of course, Trish continued to bounce about on my hard shaft. The stimulation created from not only that, but also Camille's pussy mashing itself on my mouth was too much for me to handle. Thus, it should not come as any great surprise that I had my second orgasm of the evening. Much like the first, it was rather intense.

Trish growled and roared in extreme passion as I flooded her sweet pussy with my sperm. Soon, Camille screeched out in ultimate desire as she had an orgasmic release of her own. She creamed my face with her gooey pussy-juice, though I did my best to lap up the luscious nectar with my tongue. Needless to say, it was a feast best suited for a King.

"Hmmmmm, yeah..." Camille sighed in the aftermath, a little short of breath. "I needed that so fucking bad."

Once Trish and Camille finally dislodged themselves from my cock and face, respectively, I was able to catch a glimpse of the torrid three-some taking place against the far wall of my suite. Her legs outstretched, Pamela was flat on her back with Kristanna's tongue buried deep within her pussy. The sweet-as-silk Lindsay, meanwhile, was on her knees next to the quivering couple, leaning over while thrusting a pair of fingers in-and-out of Kristanna's own slit. Kristanna, who was positioned atop her hands and knees, vibrated about in the sensations as Lindsay throttled her pussy with two fingers. There was a deranged, yet highly erotic look, in her eyes...

I was once again blocked out from the action, however, as Amy then shoved Devon down face-first upon the bed. In fact, Devon landed right on top of me. Our faces were directly in line with each other as Devon then rose up to her hands and knees. She did that, quite obviously, in preparation for what the oversexed, aggressive Amy was about to do to her.

With that humongous strap-on dildo securely fastened around her waist, Amy positioned herself upon her knees directly behind Devon's upturned ass. As Amy then shoved the harsh instrument into Devon's wondrous pussy - stuffing her full - I curled my head upward and found the blonde's mouth with my own. I swapped tongues with Devon while she squealed and yelped in response to Amy, who was already thrusting the enormous dong in-and-out of her at warp speed.

"OH YEAH!" Devon roared against our shared kiss, as Amy thumped away at her. "OH YEAH! OH YES, FUCK ME! FUCK ME!"

I encircled Devon's voluptuous body with both arms and hugged her fiercely as she continued to grunt and growl out in total arousal. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Trish back Lindsay into the side wall. Next, Trish smashed her mouth onto Lindsay's for a hungry, deep-rooted kiss. That made sense. Lindsay was Trish's little honey...

My senses nearly exploded as I then heard Pamela scream out in sweet, blissful orgasm. Again, my sight was shielded, but I pretty much figured that Pamela owed those feelings of satisfaction to Kristanna and that curious tongue of hers. Soon, my beliefs were validated.

"Oh God, Kristanna!" Pamela moaned, her breathing ragged. "You made me cream my pussy! It felt so FUCKING wonderful!"

Devon was the next to experience a mind-blowing release, courtesy of Amy and the continual thrusts with the massive strap-on dildo. I kept my lips pressed tightly on Devon's mouth, somewhat muffling her squeals and yelps of passion. However, her piercing screams still raised the roof. The look in her eyes during her release was priceless...

When Amy shoved a satisfied and exhausted Devon off of me, I was momentarily stunned as Kristanna suddenly straddled my hips. The Nordic enchantress growled with intense desire as she then placed her manicured, tender hands on my chest for balance. Seconds later, her athletic body began to move and squirm about as my cock filled her completely.

"Oh yes, Jeremy!" she moaned in that unique, sexy accent. "Yes, Jeremy! Yes! Fuck me vid yewr big cock!" My body shuddering, I latched both hands on her hips and held on.

Meanwhile, Trish - who had been worshipping Lindsay's delicate pussy with her lips and tongue - retracted her mouth and grinned at the sight of Kristanna riding my shaft. She nodded her head as next, Amy reached into her trusty backpack and pulled out a long, thin dildo. I watched as Amy lubed it up, then inserted it into Kristanna's rectum.

Kristanna suddenly screamed out in an obvious mix of both pain and pleasure. Not only was my cock stuffed deep into her pussy, but now she also had to deal with Amy's nasty dildo as it slid in-and-out of her ass at a blinding speed.

I did not know for sure, but to my knowledge, this was the first time that Kristanna had ever been double-penetrated - in any capacity. The look on her face was simply priceless. So were the sounds that she made as a result of this action.

"Oh God, Amy! Vat are yew doing? Oh me God, dat ding is ripping a hole right in me ass! ASS! OH ME GOD!"

I was about to erupt once again, but was saved for the moment as Kristanna screamed loudly and simply rolled off of my body. The 23-year-old continued to wail out in desire as Amy violated her anus with the thin dildo, helping her achieve what may have been her most intense orgasm ever. I had surely never saw Kristanna experience anything greater. Not only had Amy totally pulverized Kristanna's rectum, but my cock had been stuffed to the hilt within her pussy, too!

I did not have any time to catch my breath as Amy suddenly straddled my body and lowered herself onto my erection. Nothing about her movement was soft or gentle as she rode my shaft with all of the energy and strength that her body could generate. Within mere seconds, I screamed at the top of my lungs as my cock exploded like a firecracker within her.

That was it.

There was no way I could possibly go any further. The girls would have to turn to each other for the remainder of their satisfaction. I was exhausted. There was absolutely nothing they could do to squeeze another hard-on out of me. Not tonight, anyway ... no way. I was finished.

Camille grabbed Amy from behind, by the breasts, and yanked her off of me. Camille nuzzled her face between Amy's thighs and started licking away after I had blew my load inside her. I figured that Camille wanted to extract my sperm from Amy's pussy with her tongue.

Devon was openly masturbating, with a grin on her face, as Pamela was now swiping her tongue across Trish's sweet folds. Kristanna was laying on the bed, face-first, in an exhausted heap. The double-penetration had really gotten to her, and sapped all of her energy.

Myself, I was too tired to even move. I just lay there and watched the other ladies do their thing. It was an incredible scene to witness. This truly was the best night of my entire life. Aside from getting married and then having children (both of which will hopefully happen in the future), nothing could ever top the events of this night.

After Amy experienced an orgasm of her own - thanks to Camille's probing tongue - she sighed contently and then reached for my cock. The red-head began stroking, but I was spent. There was hardly any life left in me.

"No more," I moaned, barely able to speak. "I can't take any more. I feel as if I have been in a train wreck..."

Amy did not listen to me. Instead, she continued to frig my limp cock for several seconds. Finally, Amy looked at me in the eyes and said, "You have to get hard one more time."

"I can't..." was my whimpering reply.

"You have to," she insisted, her tone demanding. "I want you to fuck Camille for me. Out of all the girls on the island, she is the only one that you have yet to fuck."

I felt a sharp pain in my back - due to overexertion - as I slowly turned my head and gazed up at Camille. The buxom Mexican, who had just finished orally servicing Amy's pussy, shrugged her shoulders and smiled at me in return.

"That begs a question, Jeremy," she mused. "Why? Why am I the only girl that you haven't been with yet?"

"Because ... you haven't approached me ... until now," was my response. I was certainly not the type to initiate any kind of sexual encounter between these ladies and myself. I felt much more comfortable letting them make the first move. That way, I figured, they could never think that I was being too pushy or demanding of them. I wanted all of the ladies to be totally comfortable, and at ease, while on my island.

The only exception to that rule was Kristanna, simply because she and I had known each other for a good four years. I had no problem initiating a sexual encounter with her, or putting a move on her. I knew that Kristanna would never have any complaints or gripes about the way I treated her. She knew that I was a good person and everything I did for her was in her best interests - and not my own.

All of the other ladies had been the aggressor with me. Amy showed up at my door the first night and seduced me. Pamela sweet-talked her way into my pants the following day at the pool. Then, it was Devon. We wound up becoming quite intimate during her second evening here on the high cliffs that overlooked the ocean. Lindsay literally begged me to have sex with her, and take her virginity. She invited Trish, too, who had no objections to a three-some.

As I think about it, Kristanna was the instigator of our first time together following her return to the island last Friday evening. It was just not in my nature to be forward and aggressive. The reason I had yet to be with Camille, sexually speaking, was because, until now, she had not made a move on me. That, quite obviously, was about to change.

Camille glanced around the room in every direction before her gaze seemed to lock onto something. Those black eyes were full of mischief and lust as she proclaimed, "I want Lindsay's pussy while Jeremy does me doggie-style."

The charming and docile 18-year-old, who was seated in Trish's lap at the other end of the bed and trading kisses with her, suddenly looked up when Camille mentioned her name. When they made eye contact, Camille licked her lips and motioned with a finger for Lindsay to come closer.

"You're not going to deny me that pussy of yours now ... are you, honey?" Camille said to Lindsay, obviously making reference to the near four-some they had with Trish and Amy at the water basin last week. Lindsay, still a virgin at the time, got cold feet at the last moment and thus, she very politely refused to join her friends in the basin. Though it was fine with Trish, Camille (and Amy) seemed somewhat angry. I had watched that scene three times inside my voyeur room.

Lindsay shook her head as she wiggled out of Trish's lap and crawled over to Camille on the bed. She answered the 25-year-old's question by pressing her moist lips to her mouth, and offering up a blistering, tongue-laden kiss.

"Hmmmmm ... that's more like it," Camille moaned once their lips parted. "That's what I like to see."

"You want to lick my little pussy while Jeremy does you doggie-style?" Lindsay cooed at Camille, who nodded her head in affirmative. Lindsay squealed and added with a toothy grin, "Me and Trish tried this position with Jeremy last week! I loved it! WE loved it!"

"Just get on your back, honey," Camille instructed her. "That's all I care about right now."

When Lindsay did as she was told, Amy - who had been uncharacteristically quiet for a moment or two - smiled at me as she continued stroking my cock. "Come on, Jeremy." Amy was trying to urge another erection out of me.

"Do her while she licks my pussy," Lindsay encouraged me, smiling sweetly, as Camille got into position.

"Yeah Jeremy..." Camille moaned, her voice breathless, as she glanced over her shoulder at me with a lustful gaze. "Go ahead and fuck me. Fuck me while I eat out Lindsay."

As Camille turned her head away and focused all of her attention on pleasuring Lindsay's pussy with her lips and tongue, Devon helped Amy as both ladies literally pulled me up so that I was standing on my knees on the bed. Her hand continually pumping away upon my cock, Amy was doing her absolute best to get me hard one last time.

Although she was moaning wildly in response to Camille's oral ministrations, Lindsay's eyes were locked on me. The sight of that little angel, moaning, with a wave of pleasure washed over her face, triggered something within my body.

"YES!" Amy exclaimed, as an erection began to take shape. "It's like the little engine that could!"

The little engine that could?...

Devon nibbled on my sensitive earlobe with her lips and hushed, "Fuck her, Jeremy." She pointed toward Camille's upturned ass and added, "Fuck her senseless..."

I do not know where the strength was coming from, but I somehow found the energy to grasp Camille's rounded hips with both hands and then pop the head of my shaft between her inviting folds. As I slid myself all the way into her, the young woman's body tensed and she let out a content sigh.

Now, it was time to hammer and pound Camille from behind as Lindsay was sprawled out across the oversized bed, her pussy getting a feverish workout of its own. I wasted no time, either. Figuring that Camille would not mind, I immediately began to blast my way in-and-out of her pussy at an intense, blinding rate of speed. She started to grunt and squeal in response, but was able to maintain her focus on Lindsay's tight, little pussy. Yes ... lick my baby, I said inwardly. Lick her, and make her scream out in orgasm!

I kept eye contact with Lindsay even as I continued to plow myself into Camille's burning pussy from behind. With both hands latched on her ass now, my hips were a blur as I thrusted away at her. The look on Lindsay's face as I did so was unforgettable. She was incredibly turned on - and that did nothing but make me feel even more excited inside.

Soon, even as I pumped Camille, all of my attention shifted toward Lindsay. It was - crazy as this may sound - as if Camille was not even there. Lindsay and the look of sheer, unadulterated arousal on her charming, elegant face was at the center of my universe right now. Nothing else mattered. Not even a beautiful woman like Camille.

When the expression on Lindsay's face changed, I then realized that she was ready for an orgasm. That set off a trigger somewhere inside of me, and suddenly, I was filling Camille's pussy with my sperm as Lindsay writhed about on the mattress in her own hot, orgasmic release.

Then, I realized that I had all but forgotten about Camille - even when I was having sex with her. Because she was so tantalizingly young and adorable, as well as sweet and polite, Lindsay had a very profound effect on me. Her darling face. Those innocent eyes. The bushy pony-tail. And oh ... that tight, supple body. Lindsay was a doll!

This was - in no way - an injustice or slight toward Camille. She was a gorgeous woman with an outstanding body, and I can attest that her pussy felt wonderful wrapped around my cock. Still, I had momentarily forgotten about her. No, there was nothing wrong with Camille. It was, very simply, a display of how much I was physically attracted to Lindsay. Believe it or not, but the look of arousal on Lindsay's pretty face, and her subsequent orgasm, were of far greater importance to me than my own feelings and desires.

Nevertheless, Camille was not aware of the fact that I had these thoughts running rampant throughout my mind. After I had drained my cock within the depths of her pussy, she looked over her shoulder and offered me a cheerful, vibrant smile. Her face, I noticed, was completely saturated with Lindsay's juices. I had the urge to kiss it clean. Not to kiss Camille, mind you, but to taste Lindsay's release.

"WOW ... that was downright incredible!" Camille took a deep breath and added, "This is the best summer EVER!"

Suddenly, reality set in. My tired, overworked body gave out on me, and I collapsed to the bed in an exhausted heap. There would be no more sex for me tonight. I needed a rest. I was only one man ... certainly not an army!

The ladies, though, seemed to think differently. They wanted and demanded satisfaction from me. How could I possibly survive such divine torture until it was time for them to return home more than a month from now?



-------

Chapter 13: Titivate


The morning after the long, memorable gang-bang when seven beautiful ladies had their insatiable way with me all at once, I found myself cruelly jarred awake by a bolt of lightning and accompanying thunder that actually rattled the house down to its very foundation at 5:15am. I quickly sat up in bed, startled, estimating that the lightning bolt had hit no more than a quarter-mile or so away from the mansion.

Though it was a monumental struggle for me just to get out of bed - my body had been pushed beyond its physical limit over the past 12 days thanks to these incredibly ravenous women, thus meaning that I felt extremely sore and achy - I eventually rose to my feet and limped my way over to the collection of floor-to-ceiling windows which oversaw the sports complex and pool outside. This island was a paradise, indeed, but unfortunately it was not immune from the terrible storms which plague the South Pacific on a routine basis.

The rain which came down so hard yesterday afternoon and last evening had not let up one bit. Even worse, there were continual flashes of lightning and loud rumbles of thunder now, and the wind was gusting so much that it howled.

Having spent most of my time on this island over the past 16 years, I was used to these type of storms. However, I was fairly certain that none of the ladies - except Kristanna (who had been to the island a lot as well) - had been through a massive electrical storm like this. Lightning and thunder eruptions are much more harsh and severe in this part of the world - the South Pacific - than anywhere else.

I wanted to be sure that all of the ladies were safe and sound. Instead of checking on them from the voyeur room, I thought it would be best to do so in person. I threw on some clothes and put a hat on - to hide my tousled hair - then left my personal suite and ventured for the guest corridor.

Once there, I could hear the storm as it raged outside. Still, I quietly opened the door to Pamela and Amy's room - not wanting to startle them. A smile came to my face as I saw both goddesses curled up together in bed, lost in sleep. Their bodies were entwined, and their lips close, as both of them were frolicking together in the land of dreams. It was quite a lovely (and very stimulating) sight.

I gently closed the door and went to the next room, which belonged to Devon and Camille. My eyes went wide at what I saw. Devon and Camille were fast asleep as well, but they had some company - namely Kristanna. All three of them were huddled together upon the near bed, sleeping peacefully.

It was good to see that Kristanna had found some bed-mates after the massive gang-bang which took place last evening. The original plan was for Kristanna to share the same bed with me once the others finally left us last night. But instead, Kristanna was disappointed when I told her that I was so exhausted and sore after what I had gone through that I rather just spend the night by myself. But I was happy that she had found a temporary home with Devon and Camille. The three of them, dare I say, seemed to make a good couple.

As I closed the door to their room, another lightning bolt flashed outside, followed by the loud rumbling of thunder. I wondered to myself how these ladies could sleep so easily through such a storm, while it woke me up so suddenly. That certainly did not seem to make a lot of sense, right? I was supposed to be the hardened islander here ... correct?

A check of the third suite told me that not all of them were immune. While Trish was in bed, sleeping like a log, Lindsay was seated at the window - looking outside. Another lightning/thunder combination made the charming 18-year-old cringe and shudder in absolute fright. She was mortified...

"Lindsay?" I said quietly. "Are you okay?"

She turned and saw me. "Jeremy!" was her scream. I made my way over to her as she fretted, "I hate storms!"

I placed my hand upon her shoulder and offered, "You must be the only one, then. Everyone else is asleep."

"How can Trish sleep through this?" Lindsay exclaimed, looking at her lover - all tucked away in bed. "I have been awake for an hour because of all that lightning and thunder!" I could not believe how whiny and upset Lindsay was.

"Everyone is asleep except you and me," I reiterated. "I see that you don't like storms. But they happen here on the island. Expect a couple of more really big ones before the next four weeks are up. It's just a way of life here."

Lindsay shrieked in fright as another bolt of lightning struck down - this one someplace close, on the island. The little blonde then looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "I HATE lightning! I just wish it would go away!" A loud rumble of thunder ensued, which upset Lindsay all the much more. "Make it stop, Jeremy! Make it stop!"

I offered the young woman, who was seemingly acting ten years younger than her actual age with this vocal outburst, a peculiar expression. She was throwing a temper tantrum, plain and simple. An adult! "It will be okay, sweetheart. The storm will pass and the lightning will go with it. You need to settle down, Lindsay. Please ... settle down."

"What happens if the lightning hits the house?" Lindsay speculated, her sobbing fit becoming much more animated and out of control. "It could start a fire!"

"I have a whole bunch of lightning rods installed on the roof, dear," was my response. "They will protect the house."

"What is a lightning rod?" Lindsay asked, confused.

"It is a long piece of metal - a rod, actually - made from conductive material used to protect large structures such as buildings and homes," I answered, dropping down to one knee beside Lindsay and looking into her eyes. "Lightning rods are connected to cables that travel into the ground. The idea is for the lightning to hit the lightning rod, then all or most of the electrical current will travel through the cable and safely dissipate underground." I paused for a moment, very concerned because Lindsay seemed so shaken. "Believe it or not, but I have eight lightning rods installed on the roof. I never worry about lightning damaging the property."

"How are they supposed to protect the house?" Lindsay asked. "Lightning can strike anywhere!"

"The rods are meant to attract lightning, sweetheart," I informed her. "They are not 100 percent infallible, but we are a million times safer with them than without them. As I said, I don't worry about it. I don't even think about it."

Lindsay yelped once again as another bolt of lightning struck down someplace close. Still crying, Lindsay shook her head and then covered her face with both hands.

"What is wrong with you?" was my simple question. "Why are you so afraid of lightning?"

Lindsay pulled her hands away from her face long enough to tell me, "I was struck by lightning when I was five years old." My eyes went wide as she sobbed on, "I am scared to death of lightning and thunderstorms. Always have been..."

"What ... ha-happened when you were five?"

She sniffed her nose and tried to make eye contact with me. "I was in kindergarten, Jeremy, and was riding the bus, coming home from school. There was a terrible rainstorm and flashes of lightning and thunder nearby. At the bus stop, I got out and started running for my house because I did not want to get soaked. But before I made it to the front door, I ... AHHHHH!" Lindsay's sudden scream was the result of yet another bolt of lightning striking someplace close here on the island. The loud, ensuing rumble of thunder seemed to rattle Lindsay and her senses even more.

In an attempt to console her, I reached out and grasped both of her hands with my own so she could finish the story. "Before I made it to m-my house, I was hit. I was struck by lightning ... and do not remember anything after that."

"I woke up three days later in the hospital," she added. "I was in intensive care, but only being age five, I did not realize it at first. The first two people I saw were my mom and dad, and I asked them for breakfast because I was hungry. I thought that I was laying in my bed at home. My parents then told me that I had been struck by lightning and had been laying unconscious in the hospital for three days. The left side of my body had first-degree burns. I had smaller, second-degree burns on my chest, shoulder and left leg. The spaces between all of my toes were cracked, and my entire body hurt very badly. I felt like someone had shot me with a heavy dose of novocain from head to toe."

"I was in the hospital for five more days after waking up, then went home and rested for a week with my mom and dad, and my three sisters, before going back to school. All of the burns I suffered have since healed, although I do have a slight scar on my left leg still remaining from that day. I still have the clothes I wore that day, too. My jacket has a big black hole in its shoulder, my jeans and socks are melted and feel like cardboard, and my sneakers were blown apart."

"And you survived okay?" I wondered. "Nothing lingering?"

Lindsay shrugged her shoulders. "I was lucky, I guess. Just a few months ago, my mom told me for the first time that my heart stopped beating after I was struck by lightning. I was dead at the hospital for 23 minutes, but the doctors were somehow able to revive me. I'm fortunate just to be alive. She ... she told me that after my father died."

Once Lindsay dipped her head low and appeared as if she was about to cry again, I leaned forward and planted a kiss across her cheek. "It's okay, sweetheart."

"I hate lightning!" Lindsay exclaimed, looking up at me. "Every single time that it storms, I am reminded of what happened to me some 13 years ago! And I have the thought that maybe I was supposed to die on that day." I shook my head in a vigorous manner as Lindsay kept talking, "I have the fear that a bolt of lightning will find me again, and finish the job that the first one was supposed to do."

"Don't say that!" I fretted, now upset myself. "You were meant to live, Lindsay! You were meant to LIVE! That is why God made it so that your heart started to beat again after 23 minutes of flatlining! Can't you see that?"

Obviously, I now understood why Lindsay was so incredibly scared of electrical storms. Her age simply did not matter. Because of what had happened to her in the past, she would probably react this way every single time that it stormed. It would not matter whether she was 18 or 48. Lindsay had the fear that another lightning bolt was destined to strike her down. I did not agree, but understood her viewpoint.

A bright flash of lightning was followed with another boom of thunder which again rattled the entire mansion. I felt sorry for Lindsay, who was about to go out of her mind with fear and anxiety. "Would you like to go down to the central room with me?" I asked her. "It is located well underground, you know, and things won't be near as bad down there as they are here." I offered her my most soothing smile. "I don't like lightning and thunderstorms either, dear. The central room is the best place in the mansion to take refuge from them. Sound good to you?"

"Yeah, I ... I gu-guess."

"Just about anything would be better for you right now than sitting at that window," I told her. "C'mon honey ... let's get you out of here."

Lindsay took my hand and I guided her out of the bedroom and eventually down the spiral staircase and into the central room. Dressed in just an oversized night-shirt, the little minx looked like a doll. I felt like playing with her, of course - especially after what happened between us last night with the gang-bang and all - but knew this was not the proper time or place to do so. Perhaps soon, though...

There was yet another lightning strike outside, but this time, it did not seem to rattle Lindsay all that much. The central room was located deep beneath the ground and was very insulated from the occasional terrors of Mother Nature. Thus, as I told Lindsay earlier, it was not near as bad down here as it was upstairs. Still...

"Hold me, Jeremy," Lindsay pleaded, closing the distance between us and wrapping her arms around me from the side. She then pulled me down to the floor with her and buried her face into my shoulder. Those baby-blue eyes glistening, she gazed up at me and begged, "Let's talk about something other than the storm. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

I nodded my head at her. "Very well." I placed a kiss upon the crown of her head and mused, "The circumstances are unfortunate, I guess, but I am very happy to have this time alone with you this morning." Lindsay again made eye contact with me as I added, "Seems that you and Trish are together at every turn. For me or anyone else, for that matter, it is extremely rare that we catch you anywhere without Trish."

"True," Lindsay nodded. "Trish has been kind of like a big sister to me since we arrived on the island two weeks ago. Just about the only time we are not together anymore is when Trish is practicing karate with Kristanna each morning. Well, she goes to the exercise room every morning and night, too. You know how Trish is when it comes to working out, Jeremy. No matter what, Trish has to go to the exercise room every morning and evening. She has to keep that hard body of hers intact for when she returns to her job in Toronto."

"As a physical fitness instructor?" I asked, although I already knew that was Trish's profession.

"Yes sir," Lindsay nodded. "But Trish does not work out simply because of her job. Trish works out because it is something that she enjoys doing." Lindsay sniffed her nose and continued, "I stayed with her and watched her in the exercise room for three hours the other day. The woman is like a machine! She was on the stair-master forever! I could never do all of that ... I'd get too tired! I ... I would probably last two minutes before taking a breather."

"I think it is great," was my comment. "Obviously, Trish is strong and athletic, yet she retains all of her feminine qualities and can match up, beauty wise, with anyone."

"Trish reminds me of those beautiful women you see on the cover of fitness and muscle magazines," Lindsay mused. "Back home in Ohio, I would always walk by the big magazine rack at [Supermarket Name] where I work and steal a couple of quick peeks of all those hot fitness girls."

"You never bought any of those magazines?"

Lindsay shook her head and responded, "No. I could have, I guess. Those magazines have just as many guys in them as they do girls. No one would have any reason to think that I was a lesbian, or something. I just ... I don't know, Jeremy. I didn't want any of my friends or co-workers to think that I had some sort of fascination with those big, muscular guys throughout the pages of those magazines. I just ... I don't know. Maybe it would have been embarrassing, or something."

I slipped my arm around Lindsay's shoulder as she sat up with me upon the floor. I offered her head another kiss and grinned, "Instead of those big muscle-heads, honey, you could have told everyone that you were buying the magazines simply because of all those women in bikinis and workout gear. You wanted to see the women instead of the men."

"Yeah, right!" Lindsay laughed, pulling herself away from me for a moment, so she could turn and make eye contact with me. The tender, little blonde laughed again and exclaimed, "I would NEVER do something like that, Jeremy! Word would spread and all of a sudden, everyone in the whole town would know that I like girls. My reputation would be ruined!"

I shrugged my shoulders at her. "I don't know about that, sweetheart. I am sure that all of the bi-sexual and lesbian girls in the area would suddenly want to be friends with you. You would have all sorts of new friends, you know..."

"You sound just like a man!" Lindsay laughed. "Good Lord, Jeremy! You'd probably want to be right in the middle of us, too!" Lindsay squealed as I cupped one of her ripe, taut breasts through the night-shirt that she wore and gave it a squeeze. "Hey ... stop that!" she giggled, now teasing me.

I fondled and caressed her little breast some more while saying, "Sweetheart, that was the first time I saw you smile all morning." I kissed her across the cheek and added, "You have such a gorgeous smile. Magazines? Your face belongs on the cover of a cosmetics' magazine ... a fashion magazine. You are the ultimate 18-year-old girl, Lindsay."

Now, the young fox was blushing. "Oh ... come on, Jeremy. I'm not THAT pretty, you know."

"Are you crazy?"

"What?"

"Are you CRAZY?" I reiterated. "Take a good look in the mirror, Lindsay. A good, long look. You are BEAUTIFUL. Do not ever try to tell yourself otherwise."

"Oh Jeremy!"

"Your face is so fresh and wholesome-looking," I told her. "Your skin and complexion are both flawless. Your teeth are whiter than white. Everything that pertains to your body just screams absolute beauty. You're a dream-come-true."

"Jeremy!"

"Have you ever considered being a model?"

Lindsay grinned and blushed. "Well ... not really. But my dad wanted to me to give it a try before he passed away last year. He was going to sign me up with a modeling agency. I was against it, but dad wanted me to give it a try."

"A sweet, little thing like you would look really good modeling school fashions in a department store catalog." Lindsay grinned and rolled her eyes at me as I kept talking, "Or little, string bikinis for the summer heat wave..."

"THERE YOU GO AGAIN!" Lindsay snickered, even slapping my shoulder in a playful manner. "YOU SOUND JUST LIKE A MAN!"

I chuckled at her animated reaction. "Well, I certainly hope that I sound like a man. I AM a man, you know..."

"And a very good one at that," Lindsay nodded, extending both arms and then offering me a loving embrace. She even kissed the side of my neck before pulling away from me. "Oh, Jeremy! What am I going to do with you?"

"Whatever you want. I'm flexible that way."

Lightning and thunder struck someplace close yet again. This time, however, Lindsay took a deep breath and offered me a smile. "I'm not going to let the storm get to me like it did earlier. It is not near as bad down here, just as you promised, Jeremy. More importantly than that, though, YOU are with me. I feel very safe and secure with you. I feel more safe with you than I would with anyone else."

Those words made my insides glow. "Thank you, dear."

"No, thank you." Lindsay suddenly glanced all about the central room, then she pointed somewhere off in the distance. "Oh ... look!" Lindsay broke away from my embrace and crawled over to the nearby sofa, then came back the same way with a thick pink binder of some sort. Lindsay again snuggled close to me and placed the binder in her lap, then looked over at me with a happy, vibrant expression. "This is a little photo album of mine," she explained. "I must have left it down here the other day. It has pictures of me and my immediate family in it, a few friends and the like."

"Oh?" I asked, curious.

"Would you like to look at it with me?"

"Are you kidding?" was my immediate response. "Of course, sweetheart ... I would LOVE to see your scrapbook."

"I brought this book down here on Monday so Devon and Trish could look at it," Lindsay said, opening the big album to its first page. "They enjoyed looking at it with me."

"I bet they did," I nodded, before tilting my head and inspecting the lone photograph on the first page of the album. It was a beautiful head-shot of Lindsay, naturally, with her face turned slightly to the side and those pretty eyes sparkling as she gazed directly into the camera lens.

"This is my senior portrait from high school," she cooed. "You like it? I think it is one of my better pictures. It was taken just last October."

"I love it," I told her, again shrugging my shoulders. "What is there not to love about your pretty face and smile?" Lindsay blushed and grinned one more time. "I bet you were the homecoming queen at your high school ... weren't you?"

Lindsay blushed yet again and cast her eyes away from me for a moment. Then, instead of answering my question, she simply turned to the next page. "Here are photographs of my three sisters - Gina, Jennifer and Allison."

"Allison is definitely the prettiest of the group, if you ask me," I offered. "Of course, Allison looks a lot like you do, Lindsay, so that is the reason why I say that she is the prettiest of all your sisters." The 18-year-old shook her head at me as I asked, "How old is Allison again?"

"16. Allison is the baby of our family." Lindsay smiled at the images and continued, "Jennifer is 23 and Gina is 20. Jennifer is a mommy; she has a little baby, but moved back home with us after she broke up with her husband last year. It was right before my dad passed away."

"So Lindsay is already an aunt?" I chuckled. "What is the name of your sister's baby? A boy or girl, too?"

"Katherine ... a girl, obviously. 11 months old."

"Do you get to watch after her a lot?"

"Oh yes," Lindsay nodded as this time, there was only the rumbling of thunder overhead. Maybe the lightning had passed on? Whatever the case, Lindsay kept talking, "Actually, my younger sister, Allison and I ... we fight over the baby more often than not!" Lindsay giggled at her own words. "Allison and I are always wanting to babysit Katherine whenever Jenn is at work. We get into fights about it a lot of times, too! I LOVE babysitting Katherine ... but so does Allison!"

I chuckled at the image within my mind of Lindsay and her younger sister fighting over who got to watch the baby. In that sense, at least, Allison must be happy that Lindsay was away from home for these six weeks. Allison was most likely in charge of babysitting Katherine with Lindsay on vacation.

"And you said last week that your other sister, Gina, was living in Colorado when your father died?" I asked. "Gina came back to Ohio and also moved back into the family home?"

Lindsay nodded. "Gina went to college and was studying at Colorado State University. She liked it there, but felt the need to come back home and be with us after dad died. Gina helps us out with living expenses now. I live with my mom and all three of my sisters. We're a team."

Lindsay thumbed her way to the next page in the album and again smiled at the series of photographs before her. All of them featured her and an older, middle-aged man together.

"This whole page is pictures of me and my father," Lindsay told me. She frowned for a split-second, then pointed toward a specific photograph. "This was the last picture of him and me together before he died. Just two days before he died..."

I groaned inwardly and shook my head at the photograph of a happy father-and-daughter couple, looking as if they had no worries or concerns in the world. Certainly, neither of them had a clue as to what was going to happen in the next two days. In the photograph, Lindsay had both arms around her father in a spirited bear-hug as the two of them mugged for the camera. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Your dad looks so happy ... so vibrant, so full of life. I am so sorry. It was a tragedy that he was lost at such an early age."

"Age 46..." Lindsay murmured, her expression distant and empty. "For the life of me, I will never understand why he had to die so young. I always thought dad would live forever. I woke up one day for school, had breakfast and joked around with him at the table like I always did. Nothing seemed wrong. Everything seemed typical. I went to school and when I came back home la-late in the afternoon, m-my dad ... he was d-dead. Dead on the sofa. Massive coronary..."

It appeared as if Lindsay was about to break down and cry, but she somehow maintained her composure and did not shed a single tear. Still, I brought her into my arms and offered her a warm, soothing embrace. Once she mashed her face upon my chest, I figured the gesture on my part was appreciated. Obviously, Lindsay loved her father and missed him very much. It was still a shock to her that he was actually dead.

"Here are some pictures of my mom and dad together," the little blonde soon sniffed, turning to the next page in the album. She pulled her head away from me and explained, "Mom turned 46 herself a few months ago. She and dad got married at a very early age. Mom was only 23 when they had their first-born - my sister, Jennifer."

"Your mother is a very attractive lady," I observed. "I can see where you get your good looks from, dear." Lindsay still appeared to be upset, so I attempted to ease her pain with a simple kiss across the forehead. "I wish that I could have been there for you, honey, when your father passed away last year. I would have done anything at all to make you feel better. You do know that ... right?"

Lindsay sniffed her nose again. "I wish he never died in the first place! That is what I wish!"

"Well ... yeah," I nodded. "I wish that even more. But I am sure that your dad is still with you ... if just in spirit. I am sure your dad is very proud of the wonderful, young lady that you have become. I bet that he is in Heaven right now, bragging to others about what an ideal daughter you are."

"You th-think?"

"I know, honey. I know. You are very polite, very nice and sweet. You do not have one mean bone in your whole body. You have good, strong values, and God is a very important part of your life. If you were my daughter, Lindsay, I would be very proud of you. So I know your dad is."

Lindsay looked up at me and forged a smile. "Thank you, Jeremy. I like to believe that my dad is always with me, too. Sometimes I think of him as my guardian angel ... watching over me ... making sure that I am safe and sound."

"He IS with you," I assured her.

"I just wish that he was still alive."

"I know you do, honey. I know you do. And so do I..."

"If my dad was still alive, I would not be here with you right now," Lindsay informed me. "I would not be on the island at all because I would not need the money to help my family out. I would have never even considered coming here. You and I would have never met, Jeremy."

I shook my head at her. "I don't care, honey. Although I enjoy being with you, obviously, I would trade all of my time with you if your father could still be alive. Really, that should go without saying. I am not selfish that way. As much as Trish cares about you, and wants you in her life, I am positive that she would tell you the same, exact thing. Trish would rather your father still be alive. Trish would trade meeting you if your father could still be alive. That is because she cares about you so very, very much."

Lindsay puckered her glossy lips together and shrugged her shoulders, then went onto the next page in her photo album. "Here I am with my friend, Megan." I smiled at the image of Lindsay and a young, pretty brunette, both of whom were wearing supermarket uniforms as they smiled for the camera.

"You and Megan work together?"

"Uh huh," Lindsay nodded, quickly turning to the next page. My eyes nearly exploded at what I saw as Lindsay explained, "This is my varsity cheerleading picture." I literally drooled and salivated, wild, carnal thoughts racing through my mind, as I gawked like a fool at the photograph. There was Lindsay - in a tiny, little cheerleader uniform! "I always loved cheerleading. That is one thing I really miss about being in school. Maybe if I decide to go to college, I can be a cheerleader again." Lindsay turned and offered me a quizzical look. "Are you okay, Jeremy?"

I cleared my throat twice and then shook my head several times in succession, as if to get rid of the mental cobwebs. "I am sorry, Lindsay. I just had this vision about you ... that is all. You, in a little cheerleader outfit..."

Lindsay appeared confused. "What do you mean?"

"Cheerleaders have always been a fetish of mine," I said, my eyes again drifting toward that magnificent photograph. God ... what I wouldn't give to jump right into that image and make mad, passionate love to this little sweetheart with her cheerleader uniform still on. I would love to empty a hot load of sperm all over her cheerleader shell top. My body even shivered with erotic delight at the mere thought!

"You like cheerleaders, Jeremy?"

I was able to tear my gaze away from the picture and make eye contact with Lindsay. "Yes. Very much so. I think every normal, red-blooded man LOVES the idea of being with a sweet and innocent cheerleader. It's a common fantasy."

Lindsay reached up and twirled several strands of her silky, long-flowing blonde hair around an extended fingertip. "Really?" She paused and then grinned, "You know something, Jeremy? I brought my varsity cheerleading uniform to the island with me." My jaw literally hit the floor beneath us as Lindsay ended, "I can put it on for you if you want..."

Needless to say, my heart was now beating and pounding within my chest faster than ever before.

"You ... y-you br-brought your uniform w-with y-y-you?" I stuttered, barely able to get the words out of my mouth. I tried to gather my senses before continuing, "Didn't you ... didn't you ha-have t-to turn it back into your sc-school?"

Lindsay giggled at me. "I was supposed to, yes. But my cheerleader uniform was so special to me that I wanted to keep it. So I made a deal with the cheerleading coach and bought the uniform from the school. I paid them money. I could never see giving it up."

Awestruck, I simply stared at Lindsay as she continued to coo and cavort in that sexy, tender voice of hers. I was trying to imagine how I could possibly control myself if she were to put on her cheerleading uniform and model it for me. Would I even be able to survive the ordeal?

Lindsay giggled yet again. "I can go to my room and put my uniform on, then come back here and maybe do a couple of dances and cheers for you. Would you like that, Jeremy?"

Unable to speak now, I slowly nodded my head at her.

"You wait here, then," she snickered, getting up from the floor. "Storm or no storm, I will be back in just a couple of minutes. You sit tight, Jeremy..."

-------

A series of torrid emotions swirled throughout my entire body over the next five minutes as I (im)patiently waited for Lindsay to make her return to the central room. I was literally out my mind too, and for good reason. The thought of having sex with Lindsay - with her uniform still on - sent my emotions spiraling and careening out of control.

Lindsay. Young Lindsay. Sweet Lindsay. Little Lindsay. Learning how to suck my cock and swallow my sperm Lindsay! Cheerleader Lindsay. I began to shake and tremble at the idea of drilling the precocious 18-year-old in her uniform. There was something to be said for the allure of a girl in uniform ... especially when it was a cheerleader uniform!

"Oh God..." I moaned out loud once a pair of black saddle shoes appeared at the top of the spiral staircase. A moment later, I felt dizzy and light-headed as Lindsay slowly but surely descended the staircase and came into view. Suddenly, it seemed as if I had died and gone to erotic Heaven!

"Hi Jeremy," Lindsay cooed, her face red with youthful embarrassment, as she stepped into the room. Holding a pair of pom-poms, Lindsay offered me the sweetest smile and said, "Do you like my uniform? I'm wearing it just for you."

I took a deep breath and sighed, a multitude of ravenous thoughts and ideas running roughshod throughout my soul.

Needless to say, Lindsay looked absolutely scrumptious in her darling, little uniform. She wore a thin, long-sleeved turtleneck shirt, its color white, underneath a green shell top with a V-neck design and no sleeves. The shell top had two thin, yellow stripes across the shoulders, and two more running down each side. With a high school's name and emblem stretched out across her taut, wondrous breasts, the top was also an extremely snug fit.

The matching cheerleader skirt, its main color green with yellow, knife-like pleats included, was made of light cotton. The little skirt bounced and flipped about easily as Lindsay stepped closer to me. Because the skirt was so very short and low-cut, Lindsay's yellow, stretchy cheerleader panties were clearly visible. A sexy pair of knee-high white socks adorned her tender, lithe calves, with a trio of yellow ring designs at the top of each. To top her outfit off, Lindsay wore that pair of black saddle shoes. What a princess...

Although she looked like a tempting, little high school freshman more now than ever before (jail-bait!), I wanted Lindsay. I wanted to corrupt her! The way that she was making me feel was simply not right!

"God, Lindsay..." I growled. "You're so beautiful..."

Was there anything NOT to like about Lindsay? She had even tied her immaculate, long-flowing blonde hair into a bushy pony-tail for me! That wholesome, sweet-cheeks face and her sexy mouth enhanced with its red, glossy lips. Lindsay had a smile which could stop a freight train. Of course, one could never forget that lithe, slender figure of hers. No wonder Trish was so madly in love with this girl! No wonder I may be headed down that very same path, too!

Lindsay giggled in her own, unique fashion as she turned and modeled her luscious outfit for me, the bouncy skirt flailing high on her hips as she spun around in a circle. Lindsay clutched one of her breasts through the shell top and turtleneck, then sighed and grinned at me. She knew that I was under her spell. Lindsay was in control here.

The little vixen hoisted the front of her skirt up, allowing me an unobstructed view of her yellow panties. I gulped my throat at the sight as she grinned, "Want this?"

"Very much so," I nodded, literally foaming at the mouth.

"I figured as much!" Lindsay squealed. "But first ... I want to do a couple of cheers and dances for you. Okay?"

When I did not answer - perhaps because I was in a trance as I continually gawked at this pretty young thing standing before me - Lindsay took the initiative by stepping to the center of the room. Clutching her green-and-white pom-poms and suddenly looking quite uneasy and awkward, Lindsay gulped her throat and took a long, deep breath. Obviously, she had never performed for anyone in a one-on-one setting before. Did Lindsay suddenly think of herself as Pamela, who made her living strutting her stuff and showcasing herself for others? There was no need for her to feel any kind of anxiety and/or guilt here, simply because she was with me.

Young Lindsay's dancing was a bit stiff at first, as she moved and wiggled her precious, little body to an unheard musical rhythm. Perhaps Lindsay, who was so incredibly shy and humble, was wondering to herself how she had stumbled into a situation like this. Was she having second thoughts about dancing for me? Lindsay was definitely nervous.

I tried to quell her anxiety by offering her a warm, appreciative smile. Lindsay seemed to take it to heart. Remarkably, that subtle, reassuring smile from me was a springboard to getting her to loosen up.

Lindsay held the pair of pom-poms in front of her and churned them about in a quick, furious manner. She began to grind her tight, little ass in a sensuous display, her cheerleader skirt flipping about and flashing the inverted yellow pleats and her glove-tight panties underneath.

"Release ... your spirit ... let your energy flow!" Lindsay started chanting, as if she was performing on the sidelines at a varsity football game. Her budding, young breasts flopped and bounced about underneath the fabric of her shell top. "Release ... your spirit ... GO team GO!"

Lindsay punctuated her chant with a series of high kicks, each time swinging the specific leg outward and to the side, thus offering me a brief glimpse of her panties underneath.

When her eyes drifted downward and noticed the humongous, pulsating lump that was stationed within my shorts, Lindsay licked her her lips and gently bit her tongue in response. Her expression now vibrant and full of erotic curiosity, the young sweetheart lowered herself to the floor and positioned her legs into a genuine straddle-split. The amazing show of flexibility was quickly overshadowed, though, once Lindsay clutched the front of her swishy skirt and pulled it up to her stomach. Lindsay offered me a shy, red-faced smile as I openly gawked at her moist, panty-covered crotch. Her pussy mound, wrapped in yellow, puffed outward between her thighs. I could see its delicate contours across the fabric.

Lindsay soon sprung upward and back to her feet. Her body bumped to a silent beat as she dropped her pair of pom-poms, only then to use both hands to massage her breasts through her green top. That skirt was flipping every-which-way, naturally, and driving me insane with passion in the process.

Lindsay retrieved her pom-poms and used them in her sexy routine as she mercilessly wiggled her figure and shook her ass for my adoring eyes. She turned her back to me and bent over slightly, jutting her ass outward, and went into chant.

"Push 'em back! Push 'em back! Waaaaay back!" Lindsay jumped and hopped about, then turned to face me with a big smile upon her fresh, darling face. "Who is gonna win this game today? We are! We are!" Her blonde pony-tail swished from side to side as she looked directly into my eyes. "Who is gonna suck your cock today? I am! I am!"

Unable to control my urges any longer, I arose from the floor and stepped forward, and quickly brought Lindsay into my arms. I moved my mouth to hers for an impassioned, ardent kiss. As Lindsay tossed her colorful pom-poms elsewhere, I drove my tongue far and deep into her heavenly mouth, even tasting her freshly-applied lipstick in the process. My hands, which really had a mind of their own, immediately ventured downward and cupped Lindsay's tender ass through the thin skirt that she wore.

For as forward and vigorous as I was with her, however, Lindsay proved that she had a lot of aggression of her own to offer from that tiny, 5-foot-3, 95 pound frame of hers.

I gulped against our shared kiss as she dug her right hand into my shorts and then proceeded to violently pump and stroke my hard, bulging cock. As for the kiss, she met my passion with an equal fervor all her own. Lindsay pushed my tongue back into my own mouth, then ravaged it with her own tongue. As we stood in front of the sofa, Lindsay even curled her right leg around my waist as I continued to grope and massage that tight, wondrous ass of hers.

"Is this for me?" she grunted once our kiss was broken, her fingernails digging into the delicate flesh of my testicles as she continually frigged my erection within my shorts. "Is that big, hard cock for ME?"

"You know it is, honey..." I breathed in response.

"Lay down on the floor for me," she instructed. I balked for a moment, unable to pry my curious hands away from the sweet contours of her ass. Lindsay giggled as I offered her a quick-hitting kiss, then I finally did what she asked me to. Once I sat down upon the floor and then reclined upon it, Lindsay grabbed my shorts and quickly yanked them off.

Her eyes drifted downward, toward my pulsing cock, and she licked her lips at the sight. "Do you like having your hands on my ass?" she teased me, once again lifting the hem of her skirt and offering me a view from the side. "I think you like having your hands on my ass ... don't you?"

"You know I do," I told her, my voice low, but intense.

"Yes, I do," she purred, her blue eyes still trained upon my erection. "But you know what? Personally, I love your big, hard cock." The young woman licked her lips once more and added, "I especially love having it in my mouth."

As I moaned at those ominous words, I continued to openly gawk and stare at Lindsay's sheer beauty. Thin bangs draped across her forehead, with her long-flowing, immaculate blonde hair tied into a girlish pony-tail (just for me, I am sure). That sweet face, those pretty eyes, her innocent smile and pearly-white teeth ... Lindsay was a true princess.

And oh ... did I mention the rest of her body? She was incredibly thin and petite, and at initial glance, her body screamed of jail-bait. Although Lindsay was 18, she had the figure of a young girl still developing her curves in high school. Her breasts were small and her hips were not that round, but everything about her was tight. Extremely tight.

To top all of that off, Lindsay had even dressed up as a cheerleader for me this fine morning. MY GOD! The uniform she wore did nothing but accentuate her girlish appearance. Lindsay looked young, innocent, tempting ... but perhaps best of all, she was not afraid to use her charms against me. Indeed, she was coming out of that life-long shell of hers. Had the island awakened a sexual beast within this girl?

Lindsay dropped to the floor with me and while hunched over upon her elbows and knees, she took my throbbing cock into her mouth and began with a hot, feverish sucking. Her mouth felt velvety and soothing as the sensations of total lust quickly began to swirl all throughout my body.

Lindsay grasped the base of my cock with her little right hand and frigged away as her head gently bobbed up-and-down over it. All the while, the seductress kept her eyes glued to mine, staring at me with an excited, lustful gleam.

Still sighing with my own pleasure, I brought my hands to Lindsay's head and tenderly caressed its crown. I ran my hands throughout her silky-smooth hair, then grabbed her bushy pony-tail and yanked on it ever-so-gently. Lindsay giggled for a brief moment, but continued worshipping my shaft with her exquisite, luscious mouth.

Soon, however, she released the base of my erection and offered up some no-hands oral. Lindsay's head bobbed about wildly upon my cock as she clutched her own breasts through the shell top she wore, while moaning in her own passion. In response, I could do nothing but grunt and growl while continually playing and gently yanking on her pony-tail. Obviously, Lindsay had paid close attention last Thursday when the older, more experienced Trish gave her a series of pointers and suggestions on how to perform oral sex on a man. Needless to say, Lindsay was a very quick learner.

Just being able to watch that pretty face as Lindsay sucked me off was enough to bring me to the edge of orgasm.

I could have emptied my load right there - in her mouth - and I'm certain Lindsay would not have complained. However, I had something else in mind. Something better, indeed...

"Lay on the sofa, honey - on your back," I instructed her. Of course, she complied with my request. "Get close to the side of the sofa, and turn your head toward me." I nearly blew my load as she did so; the way Lindsay looked in her cheerleading uniform was making me think nervous things.

With Lindsay on her back, her face turned toward me near the upper portion of the sofa, she suddenly realized what my idea was as I fisted my cock and stood up from the floor. "You're going to do my mouth with your thing?" she asked in an excited tone, her eyes focused upon my bulging erection.

"Yes I am," I told her, now stroking my cock. "I'm going to fill your mouth standing up while you lay on the sofa." I stepped closer to her and said, "Open up, baby. I've got something big and tasty for you..."

Lindsay snickered and then gasped as I jammed my cock hard and deep into her willing throat. I again latched onto her blonde pony-tail, and then began to eagerly thrust my hips back-and-forth in a constant, steady motion.

Lindsay gagged and choked for a short moment, but managed to take the full length of my aching member into her mouth with every forward thrust, as her pretty blue eyes begged me for more. That was just what she got, too.

Using the sight of the little vixen in her cheerleading uniform, it was all the motivation I needed as I began to thoroughly pump Lindsay's mouth and throat with all of the energy that I could muster. Despite her sheer inexperience, I was not going to accept anything less than shoving every last inch of my shaft into her mouth and down her throat. I was prepared to JAM it into her if necessary!

She screamed out in the process, but that did not deter me from my objective. I wanted to ram my cock so far down her throat that it would come out of her pussy...

Perhaps that was a bit far-fetched, of course, but it was still a nice goal. Lindsay seemed to have similar thoughts in mind as the expression on her face continued begging me for more. She enjoyed the rough treatment I was giving to her throat and mouth. What better fantasy to fulfill than the spunky, little cheerleader who loves the taste of cock?

I grunted and growled in wild passion as I pumped my way in-and-out of her wondrous throat. Now squeezing one of her smallish, ripe breasts with my free hand, I began to feel a bit winded as I continually drilled my way into her mouth.

Soon, I felt the pleasure within me reach its boiling point. A second or two later, I screamed out in pure lust while withdrawing my shaft from her mouth. My eyes closed and head tossed back, I gripped my cock and let out another wild scream before the huge explosion within me occurred.

I missed seeing the first two heavy cum-shots. But upon turning my attention back to Lindsay, I at least noticed where they landed. One was splattered across her slender, pretty neck while there was a second, long glob of sperm all over the front of her green shell top.

With another one or two spurts left in me, I aimed for Lindsay's open mouth and extended tongue, and let her have it. A thick strand of sperm landed right on her tongue and chin, followed by another across her nose. She swallowed the load on her tongue down, then wiped her nose and chin clean, and licked the remainder down as well.

"You came all over my top," Lindsay snickered in a wry, playful tone, gazing at me once I eventually took a step back. "I wanted it all in my mouth. I still need work on swallowing a big load and not choking." She used her fingers to gather up the excess fluid from her top, then licked them dry once again. Lindsay was a naughty girl. She was a bad girl who needed more sex!

Needing a moment to catch my breath, I took another step back and grinned at her. "Get used to this, honey ... I think you and I may be seeing a lot of each other before it is time for you to return home." It should not come as any great surprise that I was quickly becoming addicted to this girl. No one had ever made me feel the way she did.

"I'd like to have sex with you from now until the end of July," she countered, grinning. "That is when we return home, right?" She purred and added, "That would be great! Or do we go back home in August? I forget..."

Lindsay reached behind her head and undid the bow which held her pony-tail in place. She shook her head vigorously, allowing the blonde tresses to fall and cascade over her neck and shoulders. I was disappointed that she had done away with her pony-tail, but only for a very short moment.

"Would you like to do my pussy now?" I nearly choked in response to those words, as Lindsay offered me her most shy expression. She even batted her eyelashes and grinned, "I know that I had sex with seven different people last night, but I want more! I want a LOT more! How about it?"

"I want all of you, if you are willing to give it to me," I told her in a hard, unrelenting tone. At the same time, my flaccid shaft suddenly received a newfound burst of energy. "I will take all of you, and never let go."

Lindsay smiled at me as she rose from the sofa, her eyes trained upon my face. "The panties come off, but the skirt stays on. I do not think you will have any objections to having sex with me with my uniform still on." I gulped my throat once more as she reached underneath her swishy cheerleader skirt and then slid her panties down her slender hips and thighs. Wow ... this girl was so incredibly hot!

She hooked her panties around one of her saddle shoes and twirled it about before me for an instant, then kicked them off into oblivion. I groaned and shook my head, my hands reaching out and eagerly fondling her tight, firm breasts.

"The skirt stays on," she reiterated, turning her back to me and then dropping down onto the carpeted floor. Still facing away from me, Lindsay lowered herself to her hands and knees. She twitched that sweet, tight ass for my adoring eyes, then glanced over her shoulder and offered me quite the impish grin. "Come on, Jeremy. Come get some..."

She jutted her ass outward and flaunted it again, wanting to entice me even further. Of course, she was successful in doing so. My shaft was hard and raging yet again. Lindsay wanted me to insert my hard cock into her moist, intoxicating pussy. I was not about to disappoint her.

The little tease wiggled her hips in anticipation as I got behind her, shoving my pelvis hard onto her outstretched ass. I hiked her skirt upward, past her hips, and tucked the hem into its own waistband. That scrumptious pussy looked most inviting as I literally drooled at the sight.

"OH YEAH ... that feels so good!" Lindsay moaned as I then nudged my erection between the damp, puffy folds of her slit. I growled and winced at the sensations. It felt as if her pussy was violently clutching and squeezing my cock.

Lindsay tossed her head back and screamed in arousal as I began to hump and thrust my way into her. Wasting no time, I grabbed her luscious hips and held on tight as I slammed myself into her. Soon, I too joined the parade of screams. Now, both of us were making an inordinate amount of noise.

Keeping a wide base with her legs spread apart, Lindsay was completely bent over the waist. Her body shook and vibrated as I hammered away at her, her shoulders perched on the floor with her face turned to the side. Her mouth was now open and her eyes were about to explode, as she let out a series of loud, animalistic growls and screams.

Not a word was said - there were only screams. Lindsay's body reached a fever pitch, then the blonde rumbled out as she was overcome with a powerful orgasm. Lindsay tumbled over onto her side upon the floor, but somehow, I managed to go right along with her and keep my cock embedded within her pussy. It was as if I was glued to her!

As her orgasm progressed, I pumped her pussy some more. I wanted to get every last ounce of pleasure out of this that I could, before my cock erupted within her. When I used my right hand to slap her ass, I then lost control of myself.

After one more forward stroke, I was pumping my thick and gooey seed into the 18-year-old's depths. Both of us moaned and growled together as my body experienced the wondrous joy of sweet orgasm. I kept my cock in Lindsay for quite a long time, until I was positive that all of its juices had been deposited into her. Only then, did I finally pull out.

After smoothing her little skirt back down and into place, I patted Lindsay on the ass while moving up and offering her right ear a series of short nibbles and kisses. She and I were thoroughly satisfied - for the time being...

"That big, monster cock of yours!" she exclaimed, her voice and breath ragged. "LORD ... that was so good!"

"It was much better for me than you, sweetheart," I gasped, turning her over onto her back beneath me. "Trust me, baby. Trust me." I moaned with contentment, pressing my lips to her mouth and kissing her softly. "Damn..."

"Damn what?" Lindsay giggled.

"Damn ... you're so beautiful," I croaked, kissing her.

"You shouldn't swear, Jeremy," she playfully scolded me. "God would most definitely frown upon you talking like that. You need to control what comes out of your mouth, Jeremy."

"I can control what goes INTO your mouth," I grinned, to which she giggled. "You suck cock like a crazy woman."

"I LOVE sucking your cock!"

"How long were you a cheerleader in high school, dear?"

"All four years," she told me. "I was a cheerleader in both the fall and winter seasons, so I never missed a football or basketball game when the team was home. But I almost quit the squad after my father passed away. A friend convinced me to stay on and tough it out. She said that being on the squad and staying active would be better than sitting at home, dwelling about the loss of my dad."

"I agree with that," I told her, nodding my head for emphasis. "Hmmmmm ... you are a very religious girl, quite obviously, and you also like playing video games. Tell me more about yourself, babydoll."

"What do you want to know?"

"Tell me about your hobbies."

Lindsay smiled. "Well, I live on a farm in [City Name], Ohio, and we have a couple of horses. I absolutely LOVE to go horseback riding. That is a definite hobby of mine. I am not much into the party scene. I like to stay home and be with my mom and sisters. We're all pretty close. I am also interested in fast and exotic cars ... expensive cars."

"What does your mother do for a living?"

"She works at some medical packaging place."

"Have you been religious your entire life?" I already knew the answer to that question, but felt as if it was a good conversation piece anyway. Lindsay was a very devoted Christian girl whose father, before his untimely death, was a minister. Still, it was a good conversation question.

"Oh yes," she grinned. "Very much so. Ever since I was a little girl, I have been going to church. I also sing in the church choir every Sunday." Lindsay then pouted. "That is one thing I have definitely missed while I'm on this island of yours. I ALWAYS go to church on Sunday morning. Somehow, I think I'll survive, though." Lindsay reached out and gave my cock a little squeeze with her right hand. "I will survive."

"What is the one thing that you want most out of life? What would make your life successful?"

"I want to be an instrument for God and try to do what God would want me to do in every situation that I face in life," was her poignant response. Certainly, it was not the type of answer someone would expect from a typical teen-ager. Lindsay, though, was far from typical. She was special!

"What activities were you involved with in high school? Besides cheerleading, of course?"

"Cheerleading kept me busy in the fall and winter seasons, as I said," she told me. "Then I played on the softball team one year, but wasn't any good at it. So I played on the tennis team the other three years in the spring."

"You were good at tennis?"

"Uh huh," she nodded.

"Maybe I could play you in a game sometime," I grinned. "Kristanna is quite the tennis player, too. I bet that she would LOVE to play against you in tennis. Please tell me, sweetheart. What else were you involved in?"

"Drama club, Future Homemakers of America, yearbook staff and a couple of other activities," Lindsay replied. "Between all of my high school commitments and my job at the grocery store, I was always busy ... ALWAYS on the go. I never really had time to just kick back and relax, take it easy. That is another reason why I love being on your island, Jeremy. I feel better and more at ease with myself than ever before. I have never felt quite this relaxed and carefree. I miss my family, yes. But this bit of me time is great."

"You are considering college in the fall, right?"

"I got a scholarship to go to [University Name] in Ohio," she told me. "I have always wanted to be a teacher for as long as I can remember, but recently I have started to think about getting into the ministry, too."

"The ministry?" I asked, my eyebrows raised. Ahh yes, I told myself. I remembered this from her profile.

"My dad was a minister before he died last November," she explained, frowning. "I have been thinking about it lately. I would want to be a minister so I could be like my dad was. I would like to do what he did. I want to be who he was in the community. I want to serve God and I want to serve mankind. And I believe that this may very well be my destiny in life because I was guided to it in a unique way - by being the daughter of a minister." I smiled at those wonderful words as she continued, "I guess I have a little time to think about what I want to do with my life. Start college and pursue teaching in the fall, or devote my life to the ministry. Either way, I just want to help people."

I smiled at her again. "You are a wonderful young lady. I have NEVER heard anything like that from someone your age. You want to become a minister so all you can help people of all ages, or a teacher, where you'll help children learn and develop. That is wonderful, Lindsay. Just wonderful!"

"I love being around kids!" Lindsay squealed. "I just love them. Maybe one day, I can have a few of my own."

I smiled in response to those words. Hey ... I wanted to be a father one day myself. The idea flashed throughout my mind about what it would be like if Lindsay was not even the mother of my children, but also my wife and soul-mate. I was that taken with her - and I was falling deeper and deeper into that abyss of infatuation with every passing second. It did not matter that I was 20 years her senior.

"I love children, too," were my words. "My sister has three of them. Whenever I go back to the states, I always try and make a point of visiting them. Ages 22, 21 and 16. The 22-year-old, Tommy, has a birthday coming up real soon." I grinned at Lindsay and told her in a suggestive voice, "I just haven't found the right woman to settle down with yet."

There was a moment of strained silence because of my tone and words. Perhaps that was too forward of an insinuation on my behalf, because Lindsay was still so very young. It seemed that way, at least. Lindsay looked a bit uneasy. I needed to work the possibility of a commitment between us into our conversations somehow, but now was not the time. I did not want to spoil what had been an incredible morning.

So, I quickly decided to change the subject. I caressed one of her little breasts through her shell top and spoke in a gentle tone. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

"It's too early - 5:50 - for me to think about food."

"Not that type of hungry," I countered, grinning. I slid my left hand between her thighs and massaged her tender, wet pussy. "This is what I'm hungry for, sweetheart."

Lindsay moaned and then spread her thighs wide, allowing me better access to her nether regions. I offered her mouth a tongue-filled kiss, then slid down her wondrous body and only came to a stop once my head was between her legs.

"Hmmmmm..." Lindsay groaned, her thighs already clutching my head, as my tongue made its initial contact with her clitoris. I flicked and dabbed at the little nub of skin with the very tip of my tongue, then gently sucked it into my hungry mouth. Lindsay sighed and growled in response, then flipped the front of her bouncy skirt over my head.

After releasing her clitoris, I inserted two fingers between the damp folds of Lindsay's pussy and started to thrust them in-and-out at a rather frenetic pace. I splayed several kisses across her inner thighs, then offered her pussy a series of long, sweeping lashes with my tongue.

Needless to say, Lindsay tasted absolutely wonderful to me. Not only was I enjoying the sweet fruits of her orgasm from earlier, but I luxuriated in the fact that I was giving her a current helping of undeniable pleasure. Her little body shook and vibrated beneath me in response to my oral and finger probing, her thighs wrapped tight around my head. I arched my neck and growled in the sensations once she ground the soles of her saddle shoes hard into my back.

"OH MYYYYY..." Lindsay gently sighed, arching her own neck and back, as I now assaulted her clitoris with my tongue, and her pussy itself with two thrusting fingers. "OH LORD..." was her next, gentle moan. "WOW..."

My technique varied and changed from second to second. I lashed her clitoris with my tongue, then kissed it with my lips. I sucked the nub into my mouth and twiddled it with a fingertip from my free hand. I repeated the process over and over, but not exactly in that order.

Since Lindsay's skirt was still draped over the crown of my head, I could not watch her reaction as I did everything within my power to make her explode in climax. But I sensed her reaction, at least, and most definitely heard it.

"OOOOOH!" she suddenly grunted out. "OOOOOH! YES! YES! OOOOOH, MAKE MY PUSSY CUM! MAKE IT CUM! MAKE IT CUMMMMM!"

Lindsay's thighs were now wrapped around my head with an unforgiving grip as a wave of orgasmic passion consumed her body all at once. I burrowed my tongue between her velvety folds, my two fingers stuffed to their third knuckles, and simply bathed in the eruption which I helped trigger.

As the feminine juices of orgasm flowed from her tender slit, I collected as much as I could with my tongue and swallowed them down rather eagerly. Lindsay continued to moan and grunt out her passionate approval, her hands now reaching down and clutching at my head through her skirt. I literally took her on a trip to heavenly bliss, and beyond.

Once her orgasm reached its apex, Lindsay crested downward rather quickly. Her body relaxed beneath me, then she let out a long-winded sigh as I finally withdrew both fingers and my probing head from the silken joining of her thighs.

I smiled at Lindsay as she lay upon the floor, clutching and massaging her own breasts. With that uniform on, and even in the aftermath of a hot, rousing orgasm, Lindsay still looked like the poster-girl for sweet innocence. Obviously, that was a huge attraction for me. No matter how many times she had sex thus far, Lindsay seemed so incredibly innocent. Lindsay still seemed, dare I say, pure as the driven snow.

"Oh wow ... I really needed that," she beamed, obviously still feeling the after-effects of that powerful orgasm. I settled myself down directly on top of her, and placed a whispery kiss upon her lips. "That was great, Jeremy! And it seems all that nasty lightning and thunder stopped, too!"

"Will you wear your uniform for me again in the future?" I asked, hopeful. "I'd love for you to cheer for me again."

"For you, Jeremy, I'll do anything..." Lindsay answered, splaying a series of tender kisses along my face and neck. "I'll have sex with you the rest of the summer if you want!"

How perfect would this girl look in a wedding dress?



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Chapter 14: Subjugation


After two days of endless rain and occasional lightning and thunder storms, the weather had finally cleared up on the island. I woke up this morning and was pleased that there were blue skies for as far as the eye could see. I figured that after breakfast, many (if not all) of the ladies would take advantage of the beautiful weather and spend the majority of their day soaking up the sun.

Seated inside my voyeur room, I smiled and looked on as indeed, everyone was enjoying the beauty of the outdoors. Myself, I was enjoying the beauty of all of these ladies.

Lindsay was frolicking around in the grotto with Pamela, Trish and Amy, while it appeared as if Kristanna was leading Devon and Camille on a hike alongside the seascape of stone cliffs and mesmerizing ocean views on the island's southern side. For now, I decided to flip the hidden audio switch for the grotto on. I was in an eavesdropping sort of mood...

"I cannot believe that you are from Ohio," Amy said to Lindsay, as they waded about in the waist-deep water of the grotto in their bikinis. "You know, Jeremy is originally from Ohio too - just like us. In fact, all three of us are from the same general area - Cincinnati."

As Lindsay nodded her head, Pamela offered, "Is Ohio as slow and boring as people make it out to be? I guess people think that more about Cincinnati than Ohio as a whole."

"It is pretty boring," Amy admitted, before turning her attention back toward Lindsay. "Of course, I would have had a lot more fun there if I had known you back home, honey." The fertile-minded blonde blushed at those words as Amy added, "You and I could tear the walls of Cincinnati down. Just think what we could do if Jeremy was with us, too!"

"Maybe all three of you should have gotten together long before now," Pamela mused. "Maybe a three-way marriage?"

Trish latched onto Lindsay from behind and spoke in a protective tone, "No, please don't say that. I want Lindsay for myself." She curled her neck and planted a kiss across Lindsay's face, adding, "If this girl winds up marrying anyone, it should be me!"

Pamela giggled and asked, "Do they have rules against same-sex marriages in Canada?"

"I don't know," Trish replied. "I may have to find out. I would think that it is illegal in Ohio."

"I wouldn't concern myself with being married or not," Amy offered. "Just as long as I went to bed each night with my face between Lindsay's legs, I'd be very happy."

The 18-year-old blushed and fidgeted about in response to those words as Pamela grinned, "What about me, Amy? Would you like to go to bed with your face between MY legs?"

"I already do," Amy responded, smiling. "Room-mates, remember? I've licked your pussy just about every night thus far, Pamela, until you've cum for me. Haven't I?"

The exotic dancer sighed contently and answered, "Oh yes."

"And used plenty of dildos on you, too," Amy added.

Lindsay squirmed and writhed about some more before saying, "Maybe you could use those dildos on me sometime too, Amy. Would you like that?"

The red-head's eyes flashed with definite arousal as she licked her lips at the prospects. "I'd love to. Maybe a little later tonight, or tomorrow, I can show you what true dildo-love is. I'd love to be the first to show it to you!"

Pamela grinned and suggested, "Use that 24-inch monster of yours on her, Amy. Lindsay would love that."

"24 INCHES?" Trish exclaimed. "She'd be split in HALF!"

"That's the idea," Amy said in a wicked, devious tone.

With those words, I quickly switched off the audio for the grotto, took a deep breath and leaned back in my chair. It should not come as a surprise that Amy had given me an erection because of what she planned to do to Lindsay. I would absolutely love to watch that wholesome, charming sweetheart get hammered by Amy's 24-inch dildo. I assumed, at that size, that it was a double-headed dildo intended for two women to share at the same time.

"I know all da little nooks and crannies of dis island," Kristanna said in that quirky accent of hers, as she guided Devon and Camille on a nature walk. I had now decided to listen in and eavesdrop on their conversation. "Jeremy has shown me everyding dare is to see here. I can take yew yust about anyvare on da island. I know it all real vell."

"You're taking us to a waterfall now, right?" Camille confirmed. "I could use a dip in the water."

"Not a vaterfall," the Norwegian returned. "A basin of fresh-vater. Dare is cliff to dive off of. It be fun!"

"You know Jeremy a lot better than the rest of us," Devon said to Kristanna, as Camille followed them along a narrow pathway. "Can I ask if Jeremy is as nice and sweet as he seems? I mean, I've never met anyone who is as soft-spoken and respectful as he is. It's like he's not real sometimes."

"Oh, Jeremy be real," Kristanna grinned. "Very real. He vants to find a vife and get married, and settle down, vid a family. I cannot ever remember Jeremy being mad or upset. Vat yew see is vat yew get vid him ... it is not an act. Dat is nicest man any of yew vill ever meet, ya."

"I had my reservations about Jeremy when we first arrived on the island," Camille admitted. "But I was wrong. He seems so genuinely nice and friendly."

Devon turned her face toward Camille for a moment and shook a menacing, yet playful fist at her. "Don't you go getting designs on my man, Cammy. Jeremy is MINE."

"You won't mind if I borrow him for a while, will you?" the Mexican grinned. "I have not had him one-on-one yet."

"You can borrow him, yes," Devon grinned. "Just make sure that you return him to me, though." It made me smile and feel good inside that Devon still looked at me as her personal property. Although I had still yet to make my final choice, Devon was certainly at or near the head of the pack. She was the one of the favorites to ultimately win my heart, along with Lindsay, Pamela, Trish and Amy.

"Here ve are!" Kristanna announced.

Devon, Kristanna and Camille had finally reached their destination on the southern side of the island. I panned the hidden camera back for a quick moment and took in their surroundings ... it was simply beautiful.

With a volcanic mountain as their backdrop, the ladies would have a 40-foot cliff to jump off of into a basin of fresh, crystal-clear water. The walls of the cliff were a lush green, and the entire area was shaded because of the crowded mass of huge, majestic trees which surrounded it.

The setting was nature at its purest. As the owner of this island, I had saw to it over the past few years that visitors were kept to a minimum. Unlike all of the lovely women here now, this land was literally a virgin territory. Except for the mansion and its facilities, and a few other areas, the entire island was the same as God had created it. Partly because of this, it truly was an island paradise.

The lump in my shorts which resulted because of Amy's promise of what she planned to do to Lindsay in the future was still there, so I began rubbing it while watching the trio of Devon, Kristanna and Camille ascend the hill that led up to the cliff's edge. Indeed, it was a real pleasure to watch Devon and Camille bounce about in their bikinis. Their bodies were not only voluptuous, but also flawless.

Kristanna had a beautiful and perfect body as well, but in a much different way. She was very tall (5-foot-11) and thin (115 pounds), and her legs were so long and graceful that they never seemed to end. Who would want them to end?

Her breasts were not quite as developed as those of Devon or Camille. Considering that both of them sported a proud and majestic D-cup, not many women could match up with Devon or Camille in that regard anyway. Kristanna, though, had the look and aura about her of a tall, lithesome runway model.

As all three ladies reached the top of the cliff, they debated over should take the first plunge into the basin below. It was a steep drop of 40 feet which seemed scary, until you jumped off - when it became exhilarating.

The spirited debate ended when Camille, in a playful way, offered Devon an unsuspecting shove in the back. Devon fell off of the cliff and into the fresh water below, all the while screaming out in a mad, surprised frenzy.

Devon plunged deep into the cool, crystal-clear water, but once she re-surfaced, the 27-year-old thrashed her arms about and looked up at the two women who heartily laughed some 40 feet above her. "CAMILLE! I'M GOING TO GET YOU FOR THAT!"

Camille, along with Kristanna, snickered as they glared down at Devon. "It was your idea to come here!" Camille yelled back at her, still laughing. "You go first!"

The laughing stopped, however, once Camille received a push in the back - courtesy of Kristanna. Camille yelled and screeched as she fell down into the water, some 20 feet away from her beautiful room-mate. As Devon then made her way over to Camille, Kristanna went into an absolute rage of laughter at what she had just accomplished.

"KRISTANNA!" Camille exclaimed once she re-surfaced, just before Devon jumped onto her and wrestled her beneath the water. Both ladies frolicked around, each grappling one another, for several seconds. In the process, Devon managed to tear away Camille's bikini top and toss it elsewhere.

"Here goes nudding!" Kristanna exclaimed as she jumped off of the cliff. With her knees tucked into her chest, the Norwegian hit the water with a heavy splash.

Devon and Camille immediately swam over to her, and soon the trio of lusty ladies were involved in a playful bout of wrestling, hair-pulling and bikini-ripping.

When it was all said and done, they had easily stripped each other of their swimsuits. It was a very lighthearted and playful game they had just taken part in. It was easy to tell that they were having a great time together.

The ladies did not even bother to gather up their torn bikinis while getting out of the water and once again, ascending the trail which led to the cliff's edge. This time, Camille gave Kristanna's ass a swat and threatened to push her off the edge if she refused to jump on her own.

Kristanna did not test her - she did jump. However, she also latched onto Camille's arms just before the jump, and the two women screamed as they hit the water together. I smiled while Devon laughed; Kristanna and Camille soon paddled above water and started fighting again.

They were pretty focused on each other until Devon splashed down into the basin about ten feet away from them. Kristanna and Camille put an end to their squabbling and met Devon as she re-surfaced. Camille immediately hugged the stacked blonde and offered her mouth a nice, slow kiss.

"Vare is me kiss?" Kristanna chirped, her broken English bringing a smile to my face. She was such a sweetheart!

Camille placed her hands onto Devon's shoulders, then guided her toward Kristanna, who immediately took her into her arms and offered up a sweet, touching kiss.

"This island really is a paradise!" Camille exclaimed, as she watched Devon and Kristanna share in their mutual kiss. "It's a haven for hedonism!"

Devon and Kristanna were so focused on their kiss as they treaded water that I am not certain if either of them heard Camille's words. When that kiss finally did end, though, Kristanna swam over to Camille and planted her lips on hers for a tongue-filled exchange of their own.

Devon snickered as she then began to splash Kristanna and Camille with an onslaught of water. Of course, they were quick to retaliate. I grinned at the sight. It was wonderful to watch the three of them frolicking and playing together like this. It was a genuine moment, indeed.

Soon, the fight came to an end and all three ladies were paddling their way to the small, sandy beach at the water's edge. Devon had brought a collection of towels with her, and some of them were already spread out on the sand.

Devon, Kristanna and Camille were still all giggles and smiles as they then got out of the water. Camille offered Kristanna's ass another hard, stinging swat with her hand, which did nothing but bring even more snickers and laughs.

Kristanna returned the favor, smacking Camille's ass with her own hand. They were having a lot of fun together.

"Want to go back up the hill for another jump?" Devon asked. "I get to push someone off this time!"

Camille wrapped her arms around Devon's hot body and replied, "I'd rather stay right here, honey." To reinforce her point, Camille placed her lips onto Devon's mouth and offered her a very long, slow-paced kiss.

Kristanna looked on and nodded approvingly as Devon and Camille swapped tongues; their big, firm breasts squished hard together as they embraced. Kristanna reached out with her right hand and stroked Devon's rounded hips, then ran her fingers throughout the Pennsylvanian's long blonde hair.

Devon responded to the gentle touching by extending her arm and then bringing Kristanna into the embrace with her and Camille. Now a three-way hug, Devon and Camille broke their mutual lip-lock so they could each exchange sloppy, wet kisses with the charming Kristanna.

Both ladies placed a hand on Kristanna's tender ass and offered it a rough squeeze. They continued trading kisses with her until all three women dropped to their knees and then sat down upon the collection of spread-out towels.

Devon pulled away from the intense coupling, which allowed Kristanna and Camille to heat one another up - as only they could. The pair of lust-lovers shared kisses and felt each other up as Devon then produced a big dildo from one of the folded-up towels, and waved it menacingly before them.

Camille broke the kiss with Kristanna and looked at the huge toy, her eyes sparkling. "You must have borrowed that from Amy, huh? She is the dildo queen!" Camille laughed at her own words before Kristanna sought out her mouth and offered her yet another hard, unrelenting kiss.

I took my cock out of my shorts and began stroking away as Devon placed the dildo between her lush breasts, letting it linger there. She gently slid the tool up-and-down her vast, deepened cleavage, while watching the intense lip-and-tongue action between Kristanna and Camille. Devon then used her free hand to cup and squeeze one of her own breasts.

"How many dildos do yew have right now?" Kristanna asked once she parted lips with Camille.

"One," Devon replied. "That was all Amy let me borrow." Devon then shuddered as she brought the enormous joy-toy between her outstretched thighs and stroked her clitoris with it. "I can't complain, though. This one is a doozy!"

Kristanna and Camille looked at each other, grinning. Next, the pair of ladies crawled over to their masturbating friend and offered her two kisses at the same time - one on each side of the face. "Would you like me to help you with that dildo?" Camille asked, her eyes flashing.

"Please do..." Devon sighed in response. She handed the instrument of pleasure over to her room-mate and reclined back upon the towel, her thighs spread wide. "Please do!"

"Can I varm her up first?" Kristanna asked, a sheepish grin across her elegant face as she looked at Camille.

"Sure, honey," the Latina replied. "Get her all nice and wet for me." Camille then brought the dildo to her mouth and gently sucked on its tip. "But you gotta hurry up, though. Devon wants me to fuck her with this thing."

Kristanna smiled sweetly at her girlfriend before settling down between Devon's luscious, widespread thighs. I watched as she used two fingers to thrust them in-and-out of the bombshell's slit, before extending her tongue and offering that anxious pussy a series of long, thorough swipes.

Camille sat off to the side, still sucking the dildo's head, while also watching the action with an excited gleam on her face. I wondered to myself if she had any plans for Kristanna with that dildo, too. Only time would tell...

"Oh yes..." Devon panted as she lay back, her head up as she watched Kristanna provide her with some oral and finger worship. "Oh yes, baby. That's it. That's how I like it. HMMMMM ... sweet, darling Kristanna! Oh yeah!"

I was still stroking my cock as Kristanna continued to give Devon's pussy swipe after heavy swipe with her skilled tongue. Simultaneously, she thrusted two fingers in-and-out of the blonde's heated folds, causing Devon's magnificent body to shudder about in both excitement and passion.

Camille reached out and caressed Kristanna's firm, tight ass with her free hand as she still sucked on the big dildo. Next, she withdrew the pleasure tool from inside her mouth and jammed it between Kristanna's quivering thighs.

As she orally serviced Devon, Kristanna's body suddenly bucked and writhed about as she screamed in lust. "Oh God!" she exclaimed, turning her head and looking back at Camille. "I dought yew verr going to do Devvy vid dat big ding!"

"I am," Camille countered, inserting the full length of the dildo into Kristanna's willing pussy. "I'm just giving you a taste of it." She grinned and added, "You'll get this after her." Kristanna moaned in acknowledgment as Camille then nuzzled what looked to be 12 inches of hard, plastic love into her swollen, excited slit.

Camille thrusted the object in-and-out several times, causing the enchanting 23-year-old to scream out once again. Then, she took the dildo out and immediately motioned for Kristanna to move away from Devon.

Kristanna did as instructed, then watched with interested eyes as Camille settled between her room-mate's thighs. She offered Devon's damp pussy a long, slow swipe with her tongue, just before inserting the dildo and driving it deep.

"OH YESSSSS!" Devon screamed in response, her neck and back arched as she clutched her own breasts. "YESSSSS!"

Camille wasted no time as she quickly began to thrust the big tool in-and-out of Devon's velvety folds. She kept her eyes focused on Devon's face the whole time, her hand and arm a blur as she pounded away with the big dildo.

Meanwhile, Kristanna looked on and smiled as she pinched and tweaked her own nipples. From my own personal experience with her, Kristanna derived pleasure from seeing others have pleasure. That was a wonderful trait to have.

"YESSSSS!" Devon continued to scream, her body squirming and writhing about madly. "OH YES! OH CAMMY! FUCK ME WITH THAT BIG THING! FUCK ME WITH IT! YES CAMMY, YES! YES!"

Kristanna decided to join in on the fun, too. With her back to Devon, she swung one knee over the blonde's upper body and quickly settled there. At the same time, Kristanna reached forward and held onto Devon's lower legs - spreading them even further apart - as Camille continued assaulting her nether regions with the big, nasty dildo.

As Devon screamed, Kristanna smiled, still holding onto and keeping her legs spread far apart. The young woman had a perfect view of Camille as she hammered her girlfriend with the massive pleasure tool. Soon, as Devon continued to voice her approval, she reached forward with both hands and began massaging Kristanna's ass.

Kristanna reached down with one hand and helped Camille thrust the plastic dildo into Devon's overheated slit. Now, both of them were drilling her with it. Devon could do nothing but scream and wail out in her own passion - the sounds literally echoing throughout the entire island.

"OH GOD!" she exclaimed. "I'M GONNA CUM!"

Kristanna and Camille smiled with pure delight as they continued pummeling the stacked blonde with the dildo, even as her body went through the joyous progression of orgasm. Bucking and thrashing about on the towel, Devon's screams and squeals of passion did not lessen for several seconds. The two lovely ladies - particularly Camille - obviously had done a nasty, but good number on her.

Finally, after the sensations had come and gone, Devon's frantic sounds of satisfied lust faded away as Kristanna and Camille withdrew the dildo from her soaked pussy.

Camille put the dildo back into her mouth and sucked on it like it was a real cock, while keeping a watchful eye on Kristanna. The pair of beauties looked at each other and whatever was not verbally said between them, was instead conveyed in their passionate expressions.

On her knees, Camille backed away from Devon and took a seat, then pulled Kristanna down so she was sprawled across her lap. "Are yew going to spank me?" Kristanna asked, her voice hopeful. Myself, I thought a spanking was definitely in order. "I have been a very naughty girl lately."

"No," Camille replied, which surprised both Kristanna and I. The dark-haired beauty smiled at Devon, who was still laying down and in the process of recovering from her orgasm. Camille picked up the dildo and said, "What do you think?"

Devon sat up and smiled at the lust-couple before her. "I think Kristanna likes it in the ass."

"Nooooo..." the Norwegian protested, albeit weakly. "I yust got dat from Amy during da gang-bang of Jeremy."

Camille grinned while offering Kristanna a hard swat on the ass. "You want it, baby. We know you do."

"Shove that big dildo clear up her ass!" Devon encouraged.

Spread across Camille's trusting lap, Kristanna's body shivered and shook in a mixture of passion and anticipation. "Oh God..." she whined, obviously giving into her desires. "I vant to be fucked in da ass again!"

"I have an idea," Devon said, straightening up and then getting onto her hands and knees. She looked at Camille and added, "Why don't you fuck Kristanna in her ass while I am beneath her, licking her pussy?"

The leggy blonde squealed at those words while Camille smiled approvingly. "Sounds like an excellent idea! That way, you two could 69 each other."

"That's even better!" Devon grinned, before rolling onto her back and spreading her thighs far apart.

Camille offered Kristanna's ass another hard swat before the 23-year-old crawled over to Devon. Once there, she settled her pussy just above Devon's lovely face while also nuzzling her own head between those outstretched thighs.

The ladies immediately started to lap and lick away at each other while Camille lubricated the dildo as best she could, by sucking it into her mouth. In the 69 position, Devon and Kristanna shuddered together in total arousal as they continued to orally worship one another.

Soon, Camille got onto her knees and withdrew the dildo from her mouth. With her left hand, she reached across her body and latched-onto Kristanna's sweet ass, offering it a massage. Then, she used her right hand to rub the dildo's big tip over and across the vixen's tight, puckered anus.

Kristanna whined and squealed in response as Camille inserted the thick object into her rectum. Being slow and careful, Camille prodded the instrument into her lover as Devon continued to pleasure Kristanna in the 69 position with her tongue. Inch after tantalizing inch disappeared into Kristanna's anus until half of it was embedded in her.

I let out a wild growl and came all over my hand and legs once Camille started to move the dildo in-and-out of Kristanna's ass. At the same time, I could see Devon using her tongue on the young woman's little pussy. I wonder what Kristanna felt like at this moment in time?

"OH YEAH," Camille purred, in excitement. "This girl DOES like it in the ass!" With every forward thrust into Kristanna's bowels, Camille used more strength and power with her arm. She was jamming the dildo deep into her while also lessening the time between strokes. Soon, Camille's arm was a blur as she dildo-drilled Kristanna's ass.

Even though my cock was deflated, I continued to stroke and rub it anyway - wanting to inject some more life into it. Watching this trio do their lusty thing together, along with my hand, would eventually do the trick.

A quick check of the other active monitor told me that the quartet of Pamela, Trish, Lindsay and Amy were wading about in the grotto. Although they were now laughing and having a good time together, I was not about to tear my attention away from the three-some at the basin. The only possible way that would happen was if Pamela, Trish, Lindsay and Amy were to start a four-some of their own.

"FUCK!" the usually sweet and well-mannered Kristanna screamed as Camille continued the dildo-thrusting assault on her rectum. "OOOOOH FUCK! DAT DING ... RIPPING ME ASS!"

Camille giggled at those words while Devon kept up her tongue-lapping action on Kristanna's pussy. Soon, the blonde was bucking and thrashing about like never before as her obscene screams echoed loudly throughout the whole area.

Eventually, the pressure and excitement got to be too much for her to handle. Kristanna let out one final scream before burying her face between Devon's luscious thighs. Her tongue went to work as her body experienced what was obviously a very massive and intense orgasm. Not one to relent, Devon continued with her own tongue-lapping on Kristanna while Camille still pounded the young minx with the big, nasty dildo for several seconds.

When Kristanna's lovely body finally went limp, Camille withdrew the dildo from her rectum and then smiled in a very satisfied manner. Next, Devon maneuvered herself out from underneath Kristanna, allowing Camille to see the sweet nectar which had just been oozed all over her face.

Camille smiled at Devon before taking the siren into her arms and kissing her madly. Then, Camille broke the kiss and started to lick away at Devon's face - wanting the tasty ejaculatory fluids from Kristanna's pussy all for herself.

Laying in a satisfied heap off to the side, Kristanna looked at her two lovers as they quivered together. For good measure, she then slipped a hand between her lean, majestic legs and began masturbating with two extended fingers.

"Now it's your turn," Devon said to Camille, snatching the dildo from her. "You fucked me and Kristanna with this thing. Now it's your turn to know what it feels like!"

Devon gave Camille a shove on the shoulder, causing the Mexican to fall backwards - onto her back. When Camille's succulent thighs parted (most likely on instinct), Devon immediately plunged the plastic-encased dildo between them and directly into her hot, moist pussy.

"YEAH!" Devon roared, already starting to thrust the big tool in-and-out of Camille's burning slit. "Payback time!" Devon giggled with delight as Camille wailed with pleasure; soon, she POUNDED her room-mate's pussy with the dildo.

My cock was getting hard once again, rather rapidly, as I stroked it. But at the same time, I was not the only one who was masturbating. Kristanna still had two fingers buried in her slit, twiddling away, as she kept a watchful eye on the passionate, lust-ridden couple before her.

"Oh yeah..." Camille whined, her body shuddering in mad desire. "Oh yeah, baby! Do me ... Do me! Do me harder!" Her face all red and flushed, Camille locked eyes with Devon as the Pennsylvanian hammered her pussy with the dildo. "Oh yeah, baby!" she continued. "Oh yeah! OH FUCK YEAH!"

Kristanna suddenly rose up to her knees and went over to the pretty couple, where she pressed her lips to Devon's awaiting mouth and kissed her savagely. The pair of ladies vibrated together as their tongues dueled and danced as one between their opened mouths. Soon, Kristanna had both arms wrapped around Devon's shoulders, embracing her tightly.

Camille's voluptuous body squirmed about in pure arousal as Devon continued forth with the dildo-driven pounding. At the same time, Camille eyed both Devon and Kristanna, her expression ablaze with raw emotion.

Soon, Kristanna brought both of her hands to Devon's full breasts and groped them thoroughly. After several seconds of this, Kristanna then slipped her right hand between Devon's creamy thighs and began eagerly massaging her pussy. The sultry 28-year-old moaned for a moment, then bore down and deepened the intensity of her shared kiss with Kristanna.

As she continued to whine out her pleasure, Camille latched onto Kristanna's right calf with her left hand and caressed it tenderly. This caused the Norwegian to break her kiss with Devon, then turn and smile in response toward Camille. She countered by extending her tongue outward, to which Kristanna immediately leaned down and closed her lush mouth over Camille's for a deep, languid kiss.

Now able to focus all of her energy into dildo-loving, Devon used every last fiber of strength in her hand and arm as she absolutely hammered Camille's pussy with the huge joy-toy. As a result, Camille's body tensed as her neck and back arched, her hips raising off the ground.

Seconds later, Camille screamed against her shared kiss with Kristanna as the passion juices began to flow from her pussy. Devon continued to throttle Camille with the dildo while Kristanna kept her mouth occupied with her own.

Meanwhile, I stroked myself to a rather intense orgasm. I could not believe how voracious and insatiable these women seemed to be! They were absolute, sexual predators!

-------

After a hearty and very fulfilling dinner that evening, I returned to the voyeur room and noticed on one of the video surveillance monitors that Kristanna was lounging beside the indoor (heated) pool along with Devon, Pamela, Trish and Camille. Apparently, the five ladies were having a talk.

Located just underneath the glass portion of the roof, I figured that the indoor pool would become a favorite spot for many of the ladies over the coming days and weeks. The best word to describe it would be pristine. The pool was large and immaculate, and quite the luxury hang-out spot. Swimmers could dive underneath a glass wall and emerge outdoors by a terrace. The pool also featured an underwater music system and a black floor with thousands of fiber optic lights installed, giving the illusion of an evening sky.

I had the urge to eavesdrop on the conversation between Devon, Kristanna, Pamela, Trish and Camille, but chose not to because of what was happening on another video screen.

Lindsay was in Amy's guest suite, squirming about as she sat upon the bed in a little, two-piece bikini swimsuit. Of course, Amy was beside her, running her slender fingers throughout the vixen's silky-smooth blonde hair. Intrigued, I flipped the hidden microphone on for that room.

"Everybody is gonna wonder where I'm at," Lindsay said, appearing a bit distraught. "I told Trish I would only be gone for a few minutes - long enough to get a drink in the kitchen. I don't want them to worry about me..."

"Wouldn't you rather be here with me, though?" Amy asked, a wicked, nasty glint in her eyes. "I mean ... think about it. You could lay at poolside with the others and talk about nothing. Or, you could be here with me in my room, and let me fuck your brains out like no one ever has before."

Lindsay squirmed about some more in response to those words. "Well, if you put it that way..."

"That's my girl," Amy grinned, as she continually stroked and brushed Lindsay's hair with her fingertips. "You're such a pretty thing. Did anyone ever tell you that, honey?"

Lindsay blushed and replied, "A couple of times."

She stroked Lindsay's hair some more and cooed, "There are a couple of things that I would be interested in trying with you - if YOU are interested." The red-head offered Lindsay a kiss on the cheek and asked, "Would you be willing to allow me to ... oh, indulge myself?"

"Indulge away," Lindsay giggled in response.

"First thing is first," Amy said, before her voice turned more dark and fierce. "Take your bikini off."

Lindsay looked at the 30-year-old with wide eyes, but complied with the request. She wiggled out of first her top, then her G-string. "Quick personality change, huh?"

"I don't mean to scare you, honey, or make you feel one bit uncomfortable. Not my intent." Next, Amy reached underneath the bed and produced a pair of silk scarves. "Let me live out this fantasy with you, Lindsay. I want to tie you up, and make you scream."

"You're into that bondage stuff?" the teen-ager scoffed.

"Come here, sweetheart," Amy breathed, embracing Lindsay with both arms and kissing her passionately. I watched with very interested eyes as the pair of ladies swapped their tongues together through a heated, open-mouthed exchange. Lindsay, whose taut, nude form was on total display, seemed to be succumbing to the idea of being placed into bondage.

"Are you going to let me do it?" Amy insisted, waving one of the white scarves before Lindsay's face once their kiss ended. Not getting an immediate answer, Amy buttered Lindsay up some more with another tongue-filled kiss.

"Oh yes," she finally replied. "Do it..."

As I sat in the voyeur room and watched this amazing scene unfold before me, I had to sigh and take a very deep breath. I had a novel interest in the art of bondage, but certainly no first-hand experience. I would never advocate hurting or causing another person excessive pain, but the thought of a playful bondage session was quite enticing to me. With any luck, I told myself, that was what Amy had in mind now...

"Lay down front-first on the bed, sweetheart," was Amy's instructions. Lindsay did as she was told, then squealed once Amy grabbed her right wrist and guided it toward the headboard of the bed. She double-knotted the scarf around her wrist, and then securely fastened its opposite end to a hole in the headboard. Amy did the same with Lindsay's left wrist; binding it with the second scarf and attaching it to the other side of the headboard.

"It's okay," Amy purred, kissing Lindsay's shoulder as the little vixen breathed in heavy, quick gasps. "I'm not going to hurt you. Well, I'm not going to hurt you too much, at least..." Lindsay whined at those words. I could tell that her excitement level was building by the millisecond. "Try to get loose, honey."

Lindsay squirmed about and did her absolute best to break free of the silk scarves which bound her wrists to the headboard. But it was no use. They were much too tight.

"Excellent," Amy grinned. "But I can't take any chances. I'm going to have to tie your legs up, too."

Lindsay moaned, then squealed once more as Amy produced a second pair of scarves. She double-knotted both of them over and around Lindsay's ankles, and eventually offered each a tug to make sure they were secure. Next, she spread the 18-year-old's legs apart, placing her feet upon opposite corners of the bed. Finally, Amy took the ends of each silk scarf and tied them around the bed's wheels on either side.

Satisfied with her evil handiwork, Amy took a step back and smiled. Meanwhile, I already had my cock out and was busy stroking it. I was very interested in what the group of Devon, Kristanna, Pamela, Trish and Camille were talking about at the indoor pool, but they took a definite backseat right now. Seeing Lindsay tied spread-eagle to four corners of the bed piqued my interest like never before.

"What are you going to do to me?" Lindsay quaked, maybe a bit frightened, as Amy folded a pillow and placed it under her waist. Now, Lindsay's sweet ass was upturned - and in all probability, about to receive a good spanking. I know that Amy had a definite interest in spanking. Of course, watching Lindsay writhe and squirm about against the tight, unbreakable bonds was enough to make me gasp in desire.

"I'm going to worship your body," Amy replied, that nasty glint still in her eyes. "But I'm going to do it in my own, special way. You just need to relax, honey."

Lindsay's own eyes went wide as Amy pulled a blindfold out from underneath the bed. Lindsay turned and shook her head wildly, but it did her no good. Amy slipped the red blindfold over her head, completely shielding her eyes.

"I can't see!" Lindsay whined. "Take it off! PLEASE!"

"Shhhhh," Amy offered in a soothing voice, her lips now close to Lindsay's ear. "You'll be okay. I'll make sure that nothing bad happens to you. You do trust me, right?"

"Yes," the blonde answered, her tone of voice somewhat distraught. "But I can't see! Why is that thing on me?"

"It's better this way - trust me," Amy countered, kissing her on the cheek. "You won't have any idea as to what I'll do to you next. Things will be more exciting for you."

"I hope you don't intend to hurt me," Lindsay fretted. "I ... I'll tell Jeremy if you do! You'll be in trouble!"

I chuckled inwardly as Amy began to shed her own clothing. First it was her sandals, then her red tank-top, and the matching pair of short-shorts. She tossed the items elsewhere, then stepped out of her white G-string and kicked it into literal oblivion. "I will try to be soft and gentle with you," Amy purred. "But I can't promise anything."

Having foregone the use of a bra (which did not surprise me), Amy was now totally nude. What an incredibly-stacked, lovely woman, I said to myself. No wonder she had such a large group of boyfriends in her hometown of Cincinnati.

"Oh God ... what are you doing?" Lindsay asked, her head twirling about as Amy pulled her trusty bag-of-toys out from underneath the bed. "What's that noise?"

"Settle down," Amy told her, as she reached into the bag and retrieved a black leather whip. My eyes nearly exploded as I quickly used the camera to zoom in on the cruel object. Was it a cat o' nine tails? I was not sure. But if it was, I knew those could be quite painful with enough force. I then panned the camera back for a wider view of the action.

Amy seemed to be glowing as she held the whip up and let its leather strands caress her left arm and wrist. She kept an eye on Lindsay, who continued a losing fight against her unforgiving bonds. No matter what, she could not break free.

With an evil grin, Amy extended her arm back and let the whip fly. Its leather strands struck Lindsay's unsuspecting ass with moderate force, but made her entire body jump as she screamed wildly in response. Before she could catch her breath, Lindsay's ass received another blow from the strap. Then another, and another, and another...

"OUCH!" the shy and humble Christian girl finally roared. "OWWWWW, AMY! OH GOD! MY ASS!" After just four lashes, Lindsay's backside was already a bright shade of red. It was also shaking and quivering about uncontrollably, too.

"I know it hurts, honey," Amy said, placing the whip upon Lindsay's upturned ass and sliding it about ever-so-softly. "But I can see that you like it. You like the hurt." Amy paused and asked, "Want me to continue?"

"Yes..." Lindsay breathed.

I gulped and cringed as Amy offered Lindsay a series of five more quick, unrelenting swats on her ass with that cruel whip. The little minx continued to scream out in an even mixture of pain and pleasure, her words now incoherent. Amy, of course, still had that glow about her. She seemed to enjoy having her dominant side on display like this...

Lindsay's entire body was now trembling as Amy dropped the whip and climbed onto the bed with her. She settled herself upon her elbows and knees - just above Lindsay's prone form as she lay in bondage front-down on the mattress. With Lindsay's lovely face turned to the side, Amy used the opportunity to curl her own neck and offer her a soft kiss.

"I want you to feel real good, sweetheart," Amy murmured, kissing her cheek yet again. "If I hurt you too much, just let me know. I want you to enjoy yourself."

"I am..." Lindsay whined, that blindfold around her eyes concealing what had to be a sheet of erotic tears. "You do make me feel good, Amy! Very good!"

"I love your face because it's so pretty, but it's not my favorite part of your body," Amy told her. "I love your little-girl breasts, too. They look fabulous on you. And your pussy looks so inviting ... and delicious. But neither it nor your breasts are my favorite part of your body. Do you know what my favorite part about you is?"

"My ass?"

"You're very perceptive," Amy giggled, giving her lover one more kiss on the lips before hopping off of the bed. She offered that ass a playful smack with her hand and said, "I just think it is so sweet, and perfect. Really perfect!" She paused and added, "The whipping was just to warm it up for me. Now, dear Lindsay ... NOW comes the main course."

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked again. "Are you going to fuck it? Is that the main course?" Oh God ... I nearly blew my load at those nasty words. Lindsay asked about anal sex as if it were a normal occurrence for her. This coming from a girl who lost her cherry nine days ago!

"I have something even better in mind," Amy said wickedly, licking her lips in pure anticipation as she eyed Lindsay's firm, tight ass. I quickly got an idea as to what may be on Amy's mind. No, I told myself. Amy would not do that...

"I have wanted to do this another woman for basically all of my life," the 30-year-old confessed. "Your ass, baby ... it's so precious. It needs to be worshiped."

"How?" Lindsay asked, confused. "If you're not going to fuck it ... how? You've already whipped me."

"Like this..." Amy breathed, my eyes wide, as she leaned over and spread Lindsay's asscheeks apart with both hands. My earlier belief was now validated as Amy extended her wet tongue and offered Lindsay's anus a full, sweeping lick.

"Oh God, Amy! No! NOOOOO!" Lindsay screamed, though her voice was still full of erotic stimulation. "It's so nasty!"

"I don't care," Amy sighed, giving that puckered orifice another full lash with her tongue. "I've wanted to do this to another woman for so long. Now is my chance..."

"Licking my ass!" Lindsay screamed, trying her best (but failing) to sound offended. "OH ... IT'S SO NASTY!"

Those words only added fuel to Amy's already burning fire. I shook my head in amazement as she offered Lindsay's rectum swipe after swipe with her tongue. Soon, Amy tried to jam her tongue inside the air-tight crevice. She had her tongue fully extended, and was jutting her head back-and-forth in a quick, continual motion. I could not believe my eyes!

"OH GOD!" Lindsay kept screaming. "NASTY! NASTY! IT'S SO NASTY!" She paused and added, "BUT IT FEELS SO GOOD!"

"Hmmmmm..." Amy moaned in response, obviously liking that last part. "I could eat your ass out from now until the end of time!" Amy gave up trying to stuff her tongue inside of Lindsay's anus, and decided to concentrate on it with another round of full, sweeping licks. Simply incredible...

Myself, I did not look at this particular sex act as being nasty. Instead, I felt as if it was taboo; forbidden. Personally, I would never do this to someone else. But that did not mean that I was not enjoying the show. Actually, it made me happy to see Amy in some perverse, warped state of Heaven. After all, the red-head claimed that she had wanted to do this to another woman for a very long time. It made me feel good inside that this island of mine aided in making her lewd, fiendish fantasy a reality.

As for Lindsay, I really enjoyed her reaction. She continually screamed about how nasty and awful this was, but her body mannerisms told me that she was incredibly turned on right now. It was as if Lindsay thought this was taboo, too. But at the same time, she could not deny her arousal.

"I have a little surprise for you," Amy cooed, finally withdrawing her face from inbetween Lindsay's asscheeks. "It's for being such a good girl, and letting me do that to you without protest. Well ... at least, real protest."

"OH MY STARS!" Lindsay moaned. "What are you going to do to me NOW?" I did feel sorry for her because she had that blindfold on. Watching Lindsay's head jerk about to every little noise was pure entertainment. But on the other hand, Amy was right. The blindfold obviously added to her pleasure.

Reaching into her bag-of-toys once again, Amy pulled what appeared to be - of all things - an egg. At least, it was shaped like one. The device had a thick wire attached to it with what looked to be a hand-held control pad on the other end. What was that thing?

Lindsay's whole body squirmed and tensed up as Amy gently inserted the round object between her thighs, and into her pussy. Amy made sure the egg was buried deep, too. All I could see now was that black wire coming out of the exquisite blonde's swollen pussy folds.

"WHAT IS THAT?" Lindsay demanded. "It feels funny!"

Once Amy flipped a switch on the hand-held controller, Lindsay roared out like she never had before.

"It's a vibrating egg!" Amy exclaimed, enjoying the loud, continual series of screams emanating from her young lover. "I have it turned to maximum power, too!" She grinned and wryly added, "It's gonna make your pussy EXPLODE, baby!"

My eyes were wide and my heart was racing at what I saw before me on the monitor. It was readily apparent that Lindsay had NEVER been quite this excited before. First it was the harsh whipping, then the rim-job courtesy of Amy.

Now, her tender pussy was getting what appeared to be the ultimate workout from that vibrating egg. The thing must have been turbo-charged. Lindsay was screaming so loudly that I feared she may wake people all the way over in Peru!

It was over quickly, though. There was no possible way that Lindsay could stave off this orgasm. Not only did her pussy explode - as Amy said it would - but seemingly so did her whole, entire body. Lindsay let out one final, earth-shattering scream before the dam within her broke.

The juices literally flowed from her pussy, trailing down her inner thighs and forming a small puddle upon the bed beneath her. Wanting to taste and swallow them, Amy did her best to swipe up that delicious nectar with her tongue. In the process, she flipped the switch for that egg to off.

Once Lindsay finally settled down from the height of joyous orgasm, she was motionless upon the bed for several seconds. For an instant, I wondered if there was something wrong with her. Every muscle in her body was still.

Displaying her tender side, which I thought was touching, Amy leaned forward and kissed the side of Lindsay's head.

"I really hope you enjoyed having that done to you as much as I enjoyed doing it to you. I think you're so precious..."

After a brief moment's hesitation, Lindsay finally spoke. "Untie me," she said in a very flat, uncharacteristic tone.

"What?" Amy countered, perhaps taken off-guard.

"Untie me," the teen-ager reiterated, using the same tone as before. "Untie me now!" She paused and demanded, "NOW!"

Amy looked startled, but did what was told of her. I got the sense that she felt that Lindsay was angry with her. As strange as that may sound, I had the very same feeling. Lindsay had been very charming and sweet since her arrival on the island, but this was a new side to her personality. She seemed incredibly angry with Amy...

After her arms were free, Lindsay whisked the blindfold off of her head. She blinked for several seconds, her eyes adjusting to the sudden beam of light. Then, she had a wild look in those eyes while turning her head to watch Amy undo the two silk scarves which bound her legs to the bed.

"I didn't hurt you ... did I?" Amy wondered, scared. "Are you mad at me? I would never do anything to you, honey, if I didn't think you would like it." Amy appeared genuinely concerned. She had good reason to feel that way too, simply because Lindsay was staring an absolute hole in her.

"Get on the bed," Lindsay demanded, her blue eyes flashing with wanton desire. "Get on the bed so I can fuck the ABSOLUTE STUFFING out of you!" A sudden rush of excitement overtook my body as I watched Lindsay grab Amy, and throw her down to the bed. She was displaying an uncharacteristic amount of force. She was turning the tables on Amy, so to speak, and becoming dominant herself. I loved it!

Amy's uneasiness and trepidation from seconds ago had faded away in an instant. Now, her lovely face was burning with heated arousal as Lindsay inspected the same vibrating egg that Amy had just used on her.

Suddenly, Lindsay shook her head and placed the object upon the floor. Then, she reached into Amy's bag-of-toys and pulled out a monstrous, strap-on dildo.

My aching cock - which I had been busy stroking all this time - just erupted like a volcano. I could not believe my eyes as I openly stared at the gigantic strap-on dildo, which appeared to be at least 12 inches in length. Amy's ominous gym bag was already the stuff of legend. First she pulled out a cruel leather whip, then a vibrating egg and now a huge strap-on dildo. Thus, the question begged to be asked...

What else did Amy have in that bag of hers?

Whatever the answer was, Amy was currently trembling with sheer, obvious anticipation. The look in her eyes as she watched Lindsay step into the massive dildo's harness, then fasten and buckle it into place around her trim waist told me all that I needed to know. Amy was well aware of the fact that Lindsay was about to give her the absolute pounding of a lifetime. Fortunately, I had a front row seat for what promised to be a VERY memorable encounter...

"Oh yeah..." the 18-year-old hissed, her delicate hand busy frigging the massive, purple-colored instrument as it protruded outward from her pelvis. "Look at what you made happen, Amy! Look at the hard-on you gave me!"

The red-head giggled at that accusation, obviously enjoying it. "I didn't realize how well-hung you were, Lindsay, until just now!" She snickered some more before adding, "Looks like you got a whole foot-longer there!"

"You're such a nasty girl, Amy. You licked and tongued my ass like it was a lollipop! That's so NASTY!"

"And you loved every single minute of it," Amy countered, nodding her head for emphasis. "Tell me that you loved it. You're nothing but a slut, Lindsay. I don't care how soon ago you lost your virginity. Nor do I care how innocent and wholesome you want others to think you are. You are nothing but a slut ... a whore. A shameless whore!"

Instead of replying verbally to that, Lindsay instead let out a sigh and shook her head. An instant later, she hopped onto the bed with Amy and spread her thighs apart with both hands. She positioned her body between them, then grasped the obscene-looking dildo with her right hand and immediately thrusted it hard and deep into Amy's pussy.

Lindsay's smallish breasts wobbled back-and-forth as her body bucked and churned about in a frantic, non-stop motion. The excited look on Amy's lovely face - and her unyielding screams of pure arousal - were something to behold.

"OH GOD! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! YES! FUCK ME! YES! YES!" Amy wrapped both arms around Lindsay's shoulders and hugged her tightly, adding, "OH, DON'T STOP! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!"

Lindsay had the glare of a deranged maniac in her eyes as she absolutely throttled Amy and her pussy with the huge strap-on dildo. Her petite, taut body was a literal blur as she pounded her nasty lover in the missionary position. I also enjoyed the sight of Amy's own breasts, as the large globes of luscious flesh bounced and flopped about wildly.

"YOU LIKE ME FUCKING YOU!" Lindsay roared out loud, her comely face just inches from Amy's. "YOU WANT ME TO SPLIT YOU IN HALF! OH, YOU'RE SUCH A NASTY GIRL! THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR LICKING MY ASS!"

"FUCK, LINDSAY!" Amy screamed in response. "OH FUCK! I ... I'M GONNA CUM! OH ... FUUUUUCK! FUUUUUUUUUUCK!..."

My cock exploded once again as Amy's entire body arched high off the bed. She let loose with yet another tirade of profanity which lasted several seconds, then her body simply collapsed onto the bed. All the while, Lindsay continued to hammer away at her pussy with the obscene strap-on dildo. She only stopped once it appeared that Amy had all of the life literally blasted away from her body.

Instead of lunging forward and attaching her mouth to Amy's for a tender kiss - which I thought would be the appropriate thing to do - Lindsay quickly stood up. She glared at Amy for several seconds, the fires of unquenchable lust still burning in her eyes. Soon, she unbuckled the dildo's harness and angrily threw the crude object to the floor. I then realized that Lindsay was not finished...

"Lick my ass!" she demanded, turning her back to Amy and bending over slightly. She reached back with both hands and spread her asscheeks, saying, "I know you want to! Come on ... lick it some more! Do it!"

Amy was obviously tired after what her body had just went through. Still, however, she found the energy to sit up on the bed. Lindsay then bent over even lower - jutting and flaunting her sweet, whip-reddened ass just inches away from Amy's hungry, eager mouth.

"LICK IT!"

"Oh my..." I moaned, as Amy moved her lips inward and began to assault Lindsay's puckered anus with her tongue. Newfound life quickly found its way back into my cock, and I began stroking it rather briskly. The sweet teen-ager had her own unique reaction as well - she squirmed and writhed about in forbidden arousal while keeping a firm grip on her asscheeks - holding them far apart for Amy's probing tongue.

"YOU'RE SO NASTY!" the little blonde screamed, the level of passion within her seemingly multiplying by the second. "OH GOD, AMY! YOU'RE SUCH A NASTY GIRL!"

"I know what you need ... you little SLUT!" Amy announced, getting into the verbal game as she withdrew her lips from Lindsay's outstretched ass. With a fierce look in her eyes, Amy reached down and retrieved a hand-held dildo from within her trusty bag-of-toys. The dildo was thin, and about six or seven inches in length. It appeared perfect for...

"I'm gonna fuck your ass now!" Amy roared, pressing the dildo's head to Lindsay's anus and then jamming it inside.

The vixen's reaction was predictable. She pushed her ass backward, causing the entire length of the black dildo to disappear into the confines of her rectum. Only its handle (which Amy had a firm grip on) was still visible.

What amazed me the most was that Amy had not taken the time to properly lubricate Lindsay's ass, but the lusty hellcat did not seem to mind. She was too excited, as was I. Needless to say, I had another throbbing erection now.

An instant later, all Hell broke loose.

Amy's arm was a blur as she thrusted the dildo in-and-out of her girlfriend's anus as hard as she possibly could. I was not surprised to watch Lindsay lose her balance, and fall to the floor on her hands and knees as she screamed out in response. Her words were totally incoherent...

It was obvious that Amy wanted to return the favor from moments earlier. She wanted to brutalize Lindsay with a dildo - just as the young woman had done to her.

I gulped my throat as with her free hand, Amy picked up the vibrating egg and flipped its power switch on. The erotic object began to shudder about with battery-powered electricity, and then Amy inserted it back into Lindsay's overheated pussy - perhaps, where it rightfully belonged.

Considering what the vibrating egg had done to her earlier, I was surprised that Lindsay lasted 15 seconds before her whole body just seemed to spontaneously combust. Not only did she have the powerfully-charged object in her pussy, but Amy was still blasting her ass with that dildo. Combine that with everything else which happened to her...

Lindsay's screams were high-pitched and while on her hands and knees, she pounded her balled fist on the carpeted floor repeatedly. I wondered if the five ladies who were at the indoor pool - Devon, Kristanna, Pamela, Trish and Camille - could hear her. Lindsay was screaming that loudly...

Whatever the case, the massive orgasm she experienced was something which I will never forget. I had never witnessed such an animated, wild reaction from another person before. Lindsay's whole body shook and shivered in the aftermath, her lovely face a twisted sea of lust, as Amy continued to work over her pussy and ass, respectively, with those toys.

And it should come as no great surprise that sometime during Lindsay's orgasm, my cock exploded - AGAIN. My wrist and legs had become completely covered with sperm.

When it was finally over, Lindsay's whole body went limp as she crumbled to the floor. Amy flipped the egg's power switch off, but left it embedded within the blonde's hot, swollen pussy. She did withdraw the thin dildo from her ass, however, and then leaned upward and offered Lindsay a series of tender kisses on her neck and shoulders.

"Oh God ... that was simply incredible," Amy breathed, now nibbling on one of her ears. "Just incredible!"

Unable to speak, Lindsay groaned and nodded her head in response. It looked like she had been hit by a train...

-------

Lindsay and Amy were not the only ones feeling the after-effects of their monumental encounter. An hour had passed since its conclusion, and yet, I was still stroking my shaft just remembering the mere images in my mind as I lounged upon the bed in my personal suite. The voyeur room was quickly becoming my sanctuary. I was definitely glad that I could go back in time and review all of the trysts and encounters between the girls, as well as those including me. The most recent one, though, was dominating my mind.

I tried to put the pieces together and make sense of everything which had just transpired before my shocked eyes. Never before had I witnessed two people try to blast one another into absolute oblivion during a sexual encounter. Lindsay and Amy certainly took a gigantic leap beyond the bounds of what was normally thought of as rough sex. It surprised me that both of them were still in one piece.

Yet, nothing they did seemed so excessive that I found myself offended or disturbed. As I stated earlier, I could never harm or hurt another person in any fashion whatsoever. Yet both Lindsay and Amy seemed to enjoy whatever pain they put each other through. Thus, since they enjoyed it, so did I. I wanted all of the ladies to be happy.

I also wondered what else Amy could possibly have in that gym bag of hers. Was it full of whips, dildos and various other sexual devices? The mere idea of Amy carrying that bag around with her over the remaining four weeks and blasting every woman in sight with her collection of toys sent shivers down my spine. Amy was a remarkable woman, indeed, though I sometimes wondered if she was actually a human being. The 30-year-old just seemed so overly fiendish and insatiable.

Another thing which definitely caught my eye about her encounter with Lindsay was that the young sweetheart seemed to handle the double-penetration that she received from Amy with relative ease. She showed absolutely no resistance when Amy popped that long, thin dildo into her anus, too. Thus, as a result, there was one question that begged an answer...

When would I get the chance to hump Lindsay in the ass?



-------

Chapter 15: Confession


Amidst a sea of green foliage, blue ocean, darkened volcanoes and crimson landscapes, Devon and I were enjoying the views as we hiked along the southeastern corner of the island. The natural fauna and flora, waterfalls, basins and bay truly made this particular area a tropical haven.

Devon, who had been holding my hand for the better part of an hour as we strolled along at quite the leisurely pace, squeezed it a bit tighter and commented, "You and this island of yours, dear Jeremy, have helped all of my fantasies become a reality. When I came to this island two weeks ago, my sole experience in sex was limited to two people - both of whom were guys. There was my boyfriend from high school, Tim, and my long-time boyfriend in later years, Barrett. Now, add six girls to that list, as well as yet another man - you - in just two short weeks. Not only is the sex and togetherness a refreshing change for me, but everyone here is so incredibly nice and friendly. Everyone here seems to get along so good. Sometimes, I fear that I'll wake up and everything that has happened to me these past two weeks will be just a dream."

I brought her hand to my lips and tenderly kissed it. "I have the same fear, Devon. But I think in the past couple of days, I have started to realize that this is NOT a dream. It is very real. And as you said, there are four more weeks before you and the other ladies are scheduled to return home. I can only imagine what will happen in those four weeks. I look forward to them but, at the same time, I wish they would never come. I don't like having to say good-bye."

Devon smiled. "You like me being honest with you, right? You want me to open up and be truthful with you?"

"Of course."

Devon smiled again. "I think that you and Krissy are the two best things that have ever happened to me."

"Really?"

"You know that I am attracted to you," Devon murmured, her voice sounding a bit coy and reserved. "I ... I really like you as a person, Jeremy. I hope you know that..."

"I hope you know that I like you as a person too, dear," I countered, my own voice thoughtful and sincere.

"So the feeling is mutual?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Very much so. You should know that."

Devon grinned and moaned. "Krissy ... Krissy has been a dream-come-true for me. Not only is she the sexiest woman that I have ever seen - without question - but Krissy is so charismatic and outgoing. She is so incredibly fun to be around. That girl always has me laughing."

Figuring that Kristanna was eavesdropping on us right now with the help of the voyeur room, I took a deep breath and smiled inwardly. Knowing how highly she thought of Devon, Kristanna would be most happy to hear those kind words. It would probably make her day. In fact, I knew it would.

"Kristanna really likes you," I told Devon. "Whenever I I speak to her about you, I hear three specific words a lot."

"What three specific words?" Devon asked, curious.

I chuckled. "Dat sexy ding."

Devon laughed as well. "Her accent sounds so exotic. It is another thing that I really like about her. But at the same time, it also makes me laugh. The way she butchers the English language from time to time. I guess maybe I should not think of it as being funny, but I can't help it..."

"Don't worry about that," I insisted, smiling. "Kristanna wants you to laugh. She wants you to think of her as being funny. Kristanna has been that way for all the time that I have known her. She loves making people laugh."

"Being around someone who constantly makes you laugh and feel so good inside can really make you forget a lot of your troubles in life," Devon commented. "I think that may be the thing about Krissy that I am attracted to the most - her charisma, and her energy, zest. The way she makes me feel as a person ... you know? Whenever I am with her, I seem to totally forget about my life back home in Pennsylvania."

"Why would want you want to forget about your life?"

Devon hesitated for a brief moment, then frowned. "Well, there are many reasons. For starters, I already told you what happened at my old job. I was a project manager at [Company Name]. I gave my heart and soul to that place. I worked late every single day. I worked weekends, off days, even during my vacation. But I saw people with half of my experience pass me by. They got promoted ahead of me, got to work on the bigger projects and thus, made more money. Worst of all, my boss took all of the credit for all of the work that I did. I think that is the main reason why I was passed over for a promotion so much. My boss liked all of the extra effort that I put into the job. It made him look better in the end because he took all the credit. If I was promoted, chances are I would have had a different boss. Then, the old boss would no longer have me around." She shook her head and ended, "It was so frustrating..."

"But you quit that job," I remarked. "You said you quit working there in order to come to the island."

"I'll be unemployed when I go back home," Devon fretted. Don't go home, I said inwardly. Stay with me on the island, Devon, and all of your worries in life would just fade away. I would personally see to it.

Of course, I felt the same way for most (if not all) of the other ladies as well. I wanted all of them (with the possible exception of Camille (she and I have yet to really _click_ yet)) to stay with me here on the island. I had confidence that I could make the entire group happy.

"What will I do then?" Devon added. "Will another company hire me after I just quit and walked out at my old job?"

"If you go home in four weeks, Devon, you will be either $100,000 or $500,000 richer," I reminded her. "That will be your compensation for spending these six weeks with me here on the island. You may not have to worry about finding a job for a good, long while. You will be able to take your time, pick and choose what is best for you. There is nothing for you to worry about. Absolutely nothing."

"You've got a point there," she mused, her voice gentle. "I forgot for awhile that you were actually paying us to be here. You know, I agree with Trish. Trish says that we should be the ones paying you, Jeremy - not the other way around. We are living in the lap of luxury on a beautiful island. This is a six week vacation for us. We should be paying you, Jeremy. Most people don't get a free vacation, then also get paid for taking it. I feel so fortunate."

"I feel fortunate that you and the other girls decided to give me six weeks of your lives," I told her. "And in the end, I will be more than happy to set all of you up in terms of finances. I want to know that all of you are well taken care of and provided for even after you leave the island. That is the thing about me, sweetheart. If someone is good to me, I do whatever I can to be good back to them - but only a hundred times more. I've always been that way."

"What happens if one of us doesn't want to leave?" Devon said, which was obviously her most bold statement to date. She glanced downward for a moment, then made eye contact with me and murmured, "What happens if one or maybe even two of us would rather stay here on the island with you?" I smiled as she concluded, "Would you be interested in that?"

"Of course I would be interested," was my response. "I would like that very much. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"What do you mean?"

"Anyone specific who would like to stay here with me?"

Devon smiled at me. "Well ... there is this ONE GIRL on the island who I think would maybe love to stay with you."

"Oh yeah? Who is it?"

"I cannot tell you her name," Devon grinned, obviously teasing me. "But I can say that she is from Pennsylvania. She is blonde, very sweet and fun-loving, has a really big heart ... is even a little fun and spunky. I hear that she is crazy about you, Jeremy. Totally crazy ... maybe even in love with you. I bet that she would like to stay with you."

I grinned and asked, "Her name start with a D?"

Devon nodded. "Yes, it most definitely does."

I guided Devon over to a large boulder here in the forest and motioned for her to take a seat upon it. When she did, I plopped myself down right next to her. I then clutched her left hand with my right and offered it a tender, loving kiss. "Let me be honest with you as well, Devon. Out of all of the girls that Kristanna and I brought here, you are my favorite. I like this girl. I like that girl. But in the end, Devon, it always seems that I find myself coming back to you."

"Really?" Devon asked, somewhat surprised. "I thought for awhile that you were starting to focus upon Lindsay."

"Lindsay is a sweetheart," I nodded. "If I was her age, I would do whatever I could to hook up with her. Problem is, I'm not her age. I am 20 years older. Lindsay is 18, while I am 38. What I want and what Lindsay wants right now out of life are two entirely different things."

"Oh?"

I nodded my head once again. "I am looking for a true, long-term commitment. I am looking to get married and start a family. Lindsay is too young for that if you ask me. She needs to date a variety of people before even thinking about settling down. That is the vibe I get from her, at least. The island has opened a new door in her life. You know, she was a virgin until a week-and-a-half ago. I think Lindsay is enjoying herself now more than ever before. She will go through an absolute ton of boyfriends and girlfriends before the thought of settling down even remotely crosses her mind. I have no problem with that."

Devon took a deep breath and shook her head. "I guess I am different that way. When I was Lindsay's age, I had already thought about and strongly considered marriage. I wanted to marry Tim, my boyfriend from high school. I kind of scared him off, though, because of it. He was not at that point in his life yet. Most 17- or 18-year-old kids aren't. I was, though. I guess that I have always wanted to get married. Nothing ever worked out, though."

"I wanted to get married at an early age too," I told Devon. "I almost did, in fact. I made it all the way to the chapel with my ex-fiancee, Victoria, at age 19. She was 19 too." I shook my head and sighed, "She backed out at the very last second. I ... I never saw her again."

Devon's eyes narrowed. "What happened? You told me about your ex-fiancee leaving you two weeks ago, but did not want to go into any real details about it. You said that you felt like waiting a little while and getting to know me a bit more before telling me exactly what happened." Devon shrugged her shoulders. "If you feel like sharing, Jeremy, I would love to listen. I don't mind if it's bad..."

I hesitated for a brief moment, then smiled. Yes, perhaps this was the right time. I had held back from talking about Victoria with the likes of Pamela and Trish, as well as Devon herself, in the past two weeks whenever the subject came up. Now, however, I felt a certain sense of ease. I loved being open and honest about myself, and talking about problems. Although what happened with Victoria was the most traumatic experience of my life (bar none), I thought it would do me a lot of good to revisit the hurt and talk about it with Devon. Aside from Kristanna (who knew everything about me), Devon seemed like the perfect person for me to share this with.

"I moved to California from New Jersey in 1992 at the age of 18," I began. "My father was transferred in his job. This was well before I stumbled into all of the money and riches that I now have. I got a job on the beach washing and polishing boats. I loved the beach, the ocean. Not too long after I moved and settled in California, I met a girl. Her name was Victoria. I met her, believe it or not, on the beach one day. I fell in love with her right away."

"We dated and every single day, I fell deeper and deeper in love with her. She was the same age as me. I thought that everything was perfect between us. I really had no reason to think otherwise. Six months after meeting her, I proposed. Victoria accepted. We were to be married that summer and, as I envisioned it, spend the rest of our lives together. Get married, have kids, grow old together and then, eventually, die together. That is what I wanted."

"Why didn't she marry you?" Devon inquired, curious. "I mean, you're the nicest and most humble man that I have ever met. I don't see how anyone could have let you get away..."

"Getting there," I nodded. "We were to be married on July 9, 1993. Both of us were 19 then. We did not have a whole lot of money, but I thought we had enough to live together and survive even in the tough California economy. As long as Victoria and I were together, I thought that we could conquer anything. We would always pull through."

I paused, then took a deep breath and shook my head. I even found myself having to suppress a tear which nearly trickled from my left eye. This had always been a very delicate subject for me to discuss with anyone.

"All of my family was there. They had all flown out to California to take part in my wedding. As I have told you in the past, Devon, most of my inner family is living in and around Cincinnati. Even my great grandmother made it out to Los Angeles. She was age 95 at the time."

"Wedding day came and everything seemed perfect. I still remember it like it was yesterday. Victoria walked down the aisle on her father's arm. She looked so ... radiant. So incredibly beautiful in her wedding dress. So ... perfect."

"Was she a blonde?"

"Yes," I replied, puzzled. "Why?"

Devon giggled, flipping her hair. "You seem to like us blondes. Of the seven girls here, five of us are blondes." She giggled again. "Sorry ... please continue."

"We went through all of the wedding rituals and speeches, the lines, up until the point where the minister asked us if we took each other to be husband and wife, respectively. I said yes ... I do." I sniffed my nose and went on, "Victoria hesitated, then started crying. I had no idea what was wrong. Then, she said that she could not marry me."

Devon looked at me rather intently. "Why?"

"Because she was in love with someone else." Now, I had to control my emotions. I could have easily broke down and started crying here, but I wanted to stay strong in front of Devon. "Victoria screamed that in front of everyone. I will never, ever forget it. The whole chapel heard her say that she was in love with someone else."

"Who?" Devon exclaimed, her voice loud and shrill. "Who was she in love with?"

I shook my head and let out a hurtful, begrudging laugh. "Her best friend. Mindy ... a girl."

Devon looked stunned. "SHE LEFT YOU FOR ANOTHER GIRL?"

I nodded my head and exhaled sharply. "Yes. She screamed out Mindy's name in front of everyone when I demanded to know who this person was. Then, Victoria ran out of the chapel with Mindy, who was supposed to be the maid of honor. They went off into the night together." I sighed and continued, "Everyone ... everyone in the chapel was ... was ... staring ... at me. They knew ... they knew that my fiancee had dumped me at the altar ... for ... for another woman." Devon reached out and clutched my wrist as I concluded, "Do you ... know how ... incredibly HUMILIATING ... that was ... for me?"

Visibly upset and shaken, Devon seemed as if she was about to cry. "I'm sorry, Jeremy. I ... I don't know what to say. That's ... it's ... it's terrible!" Devon vigorously shook her head. "It must have been awful for you!"

"My great grandmother - the 95-year-old - died two weeks later," I frowned, my mouth twitching. "Her last memory of me is getting left at the altar because Victoria was in love with another woman. Think of that ... that is my great grandmother's final memory of me. That is awful in and of itself. Victoria simply loved Mindy more than she loved me. Apparently, they had been lovers for several years. I ... I had no idea." I sighed again. "I had no idea..."

Now clutching my right wrist with both of her hands, Devon soon tossed her arms around my shoulders and offered me a very warm and thoughtful embrace here on the large boulder in the forest. "I'm so sorry, Jeremy. Oh God ... I cannot even begin to imagine how that hurt you."

"It destroyed me..."

Devon hugged me tighter. "How could this girl agree to marry you and then screw around behind your back in secret?"

"I have been trying to figure that out for the past 19 years, Devon," I breathed. "It still affects me today. There isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about Victoria. I ... I never got an answer, or an explanation, from her. I went to her house the next day, but her father threatened me. He said that Victoria did not want to see me ever again. He told me to leave and never come back. I kept demanding to see her - I thought I was owed an explanation from her - but soon her father threatened me with a lawsuit. He said I was harassing her. Being young and naive, that was it for me. I stopped trying to confront Victoria. I was too afraid of being taken to court."

Devon pulled back and looked into my eyes. She felt so sorry for me that there were actual tears in her own eyes. "And you never saw this girl again?"

I shook my head. "No. Sent my life into a downward spiral. I was so embarrassed, so humiliated. My whole family was there and witnessed it all. My friends, people that I worked with, went to school with. It affected me so much. It affected me for years. Changed the type of person I am. Made me scared of other people."

"Scared?"

"I was scared to get close to anyone for the next several years," I explained. "I was afraid to fall in love, or become attached, and then get hurt again. You will never understand, Devon, just how much Victoria destroyed me."

Still upset, Devon simply shook her head in response.

"The person who really helped bring me back and restore my confidence in not only myself, but others as well, was Kristanna. I met her four years ago over in Peru when she was on vacation there with her family." For the first time in several minutes, the smile that I flashed Devon's way was totally pure and genuine. It was full of good vibrations. "Kristanna has helped me so much throughout the years. Even though she usually only visits me for one week every month, Kristanna has helped me so much. She is a Godsend to me."

"Little by little, Kristanna helped bring me out of the shell that my life had become. After I developed and then sold my Internet businesses, I basically bought a big chunk of land in the middle of nowhere - this island - and shielded myself from the rest of humanity." Frowning, I shook my head and continued, "Victoria affected me that much. I was ... I was so afraid of being hurt again that I ... I preferred to stay here all by my lonesome. That way, no one could hurt me. But th-the loneliness ... it got t-to be ... unbearable."

Devon reached out with both arms and pulled me into her embrace. I wrapped my own arms around her body as well. The warmth generated as a result seemed to provide my body and soul with a definite source of strength and resolve. Again, I was holding back the tears. The last thing that I wanted to do was break down in front of Devon.

"You're not going to be lonely anymore," Devon proclaimed, rubbing an open hand over and across my shoulder blades in a repeated motion. "Not if I have anything to say about it, at least." The 27-year-old angel from Pennsylvania ended our mutual embrace and offered me a deep, insightful expression. "How long have you lived on this island again?"

"16 years."

"You have lived on this island in near isolation for 16 years? A visit from Kristanna once a month? A visit or two from your family every year? That has been the extent of your interaction with civilization for 16 years?"

"I do go on trips from time-to-time," I sighed. "I also spent a little time in Oregon. I thought that I met a nice girl there, but it turned out that all she really cared about was my money. I broke up with her and came right back to the island. That was a couple of years ago."

"Before Kristanna?"

"Before Kristanna," I nodded. "The girl from Oregon ... her name was Tiffany. She hurt me too. Not near as much as Victoria did, of course, but she still hurt me. Tiffany wanted my money more than she wanted me. It just gave me more reason to stay here and shield myself away."

"I will never understand that about certain people," Devon commented. "Falling in love with a person's money more than the actual person themself. You know ... women that marry men, or vice-versa, for just the money. You only live once. I think that it is stupid to want to marry someone because of their money if you do not really, truly love them. I mean, as I said, you only live once. Is money so important to some people that they are willing to forego the chance at actually being happy in life? Again, you only live once. I rather struggle financially, live paycheck to paycheck, and be with the man I love instead of having loads of money and being with a man that I do not love. That would be a waste."

"Can I ask for a favor, Devon?"

"Anything..."

"I told you one of my real secrets in life," I said. "You know ... concerning Victoria, and why my wedding with her fell through. I remember a few weeks ago that you told me that you seem to have an awful lot of problems with your parents." Devon shifted her body and squirmed about upon the boulder as I added, "If you do not mind sharing, dear, I would like to know what the problem is that they have with you. Please?"

When Devon did not respond at first, I simply decided to keep talking. "You said that you have not seen either of your parents since your 27th birthday, which was what ... three months ago. Yet you live four miles from them, right? You did not see them at Thanksgiving or Christmas last year because you did not feel welcome in their home? You rather skip major, important family holidays like those than spend time with your parents? The relationship is that bad?"

Devon frowned. "The only reason I saw my parents on my birthday is because Denise, my sister, forced them to go. I met them at a restaurant outside of town. Denise and her husband was there, as well as their two kids, and my two brothers. I could tell that my mom and dad did not want to be there. They did not want to be around me AT ALL."

"Why?" I insisted. "Tell me, Devon. I was very open and honest with you. I sincerely hope that you can trust me with whatever you say to me, or confide in me. What is it, dear? What is the problem between you and your parents?"

Devon sighed and took a deep breath, and momentarily tore her gaze away from me. "It goes back 10 years ... all the way to high school. They never did forgive me..."

"Forgive you for what?"

Devon shook her head. "I don't even know where to start."

"Start at the beginning," I suggested. "Please tell me."

"You gave me a date for your wedding with Victoria," Devon began. "I'll give you a date for when everything started going downhill with me and my parents - January 26, 2002. I was 16; a little more than two months away from turning 17." She hesitated for a moment before continuing, "There isn't a day that goes by for me, either, when my mind does not flash back to that horrific night some 10-and-a-half years ago."

"Tell me, Devon ... please?"

Devon straightened her posture upon the boulder and went on, "I guess it was like any other day - any normal day. At least, it seemed that way. It was a Saturday. I went swimming, I rode my horse. But it wasn't normal, because that night I was going to try _Ecstasy_ with three friends."

"Ecstasy?" I asked after a short pause, that term sinking into my brain. "You ... you tried Ecstasy? The drug?"

Devon pouted and nodded her head. "My friends and I had heard about it at school from others. They told us how they ROLLED at raves and even at friends' parties. They said it was loads of fun and, to us, it seemed safe." Devon paused and added, "I was only 16, Jeremy. I was too young to know what I was getting into. I wanted to follow my friends."

"Peer pressure," I nodded. "Go on..."

"So that night, Sandra, Veronica, Alicia and I were all set. It was Alicia's birthday. There was a party at her mom's house and a ton of people were invited."

"I arrived at Alicia's at about 6:30, with Sandra and Veronica in tow. We were the first ones to show up. We all spoke about how nervous and excited we were to actually try Ecstasy. It was the first time for all of us and let me tell you, it was frightening. We decided to take the pills at 9:30 after meeting in Alicia's room at that time. We bought them at school the day before."

Devon stumbled over a few words before continuing, "People began to arrive at the party. Some brought birthday presents while others brought alcohol. By the time 9:30 came around, I noticed that it seemed half the school was there, and many of them were drunk. I went upstairs with Veronica and both of us found Alicia and Sandra in Alicia's room. Alicia was unsure about taking her pill. I told her that it was her decision if she wanted to take it or not. In the end, she decided to take half of the pill."

"All four of us went into the restroom and closed the door behind us. We each said a prayer and swallowed the pills and made our way back into the party."

"About 45 minutes later, I started to feel strange. My vision was blurred and the music seemed to blast my ears. My heart was pumping harder than ever before. I started to feel thirsty and my teeth were grinding uncontrollably. I was up dancing to the music, though, and doing my best to have a good time. But this didn't last long."

"At about 11:30, I noticed that people were acting really weird. Veronica and I were downstairs hanging out with some other people, but we couldn't find Alicia or Sandra. I saw that there were people running downstairs to fetch bottled water and then running back upstairs, where they went into the restroom and locked themselves in."

"I dismissed the bad feeling I had but after midnight, I went back upstairs with Veronica and we finally started to understand what was going on. Alicia, Sandra and two other girls, Kate and Tara, were all in the restroom. I glanced inside and I saw Alicia. She was just sitting on the floor looking around at the faces of all her friends. It seemed like she did not know who any of us were, though. Alicia looked pale and then her eyes rolled back into her head, and she threw up. Apparently, she had been getting sick for a good hour or so, but nobody knew what to do. People kept giving her water, but she would just throw it up. By the time I figured out what was going on, people were panicking. Alicia's body was having a terrible reaction to Ecstasy."

"Everyone was yelling, saying to give her water, while others said not to give her water. Some said to call 9-1-1, but others said she would be fine. None of them wanted to get caught because they were all drunk. Then a whole bunch of people left the party. Kate, one of Alicia's closest friends, told me that she had to leave. She was crying so hard and I realized that this was very bad."

"Alicia's brother, Dave, told Sandra, Veronica and me, and about five other people, to hide in the basement because he was going to call an ambulance. So all of us went down to the basement and sat. We could hear cops and paramedics upstairs. I started to get really scared. Sandra was very upset. I tried to comfort her, but nothing seemed to work. That was when she told me that Alicia had taken the other half of the pill. I became even more scared."

"45 minutes later, Sandra, Veronica and I went upstairs. The cops were gone and so was Alicia. Tara and a couple of other people were sitting in the kitchen. They all looked very upset. Tara wanted to go home, as did the others. Soon, the only people left in the house, besides me and my two friends, were the ones who were still in the basement - drunk. I suggested that we try and get some sleep. Hours later, at four o'clock in the morning, the phone rang. It was Janet, who was Alicia's mom. I asked her if everything was okay. She said Alicia was in a coma, on life support."

A tear streaked down Devon's face as she continued, "I fell to the floor and cried. I told her to call if anything happened, and she promised she would. I hung up the phone and realized that Sandra and Veronica were looking at me. I told them what Janet had told me. Sandra couldn't take it, and started crying. I told her that everything would be okay. Alicia was going to wake up and our lives would be normal again. But I knew that wasn't true."

"We fell asleep but two hours later, the phone rang again. It was Alicia's step-father. He said that some cops were coming to the house to see if we all of us were okay. He said to let them in and tell them everything."

"Minutes later, the cops arrived. We opened the door and they all rushed in. There were also paramedics. One cop was right in our faces, yelling and screaming at us - saying things like, _I hope you had fun, your friend is in a coma. Was it worth it?_ I was so scared. They made me, Sandra and Veronica all sit down on the stairs and they took down all of our information. They found the drunk kids down in the basement and got their information, too."

"Then they told us that we were going to be taken to the hospital to make sure that we didn't have the same reaction to Ecstasy that Alicia did. That was when I flipped out. I told them that I was not going to any hospital without my mom or dad. The cops told me that it was too late for that and that I was in their hands now. They took me, Veronica and a drunk girl to one hospital, and everyone else to another. They were going to the one where Alicia was."

"At the hospital, a police officer came in and told me that my mom had been called and when she got there, he - the cop - was going to ask me some questions. My mom arrived and I could tell by the look on her face that she was not happy. She did not know what had happened, so I told her. Then the cop began asking questions. He wanted to know where we got the pills. They brought in a yearbook and made me point out all of the people who I got the pills from. I told the cop everything because he said that it would help Alicia."

"Later that day, my mom and I went to the hospital where Alicia was. We got there and all of my friends were there, with their parents with them. The first people I saw were these two guys. They were crying and I knew that it must be bad. I cried the whole time I was there, but almost lost it completely when I was allowed to go inside and see Alicia."

"I went in with Veronica to see Alicia, who was lying in this bed with tubes going down her throat. She was hooked up to all sorts of machines. We went in and talked to her and told her that she would be okay. It was so scary. Her forehead and throat were all swollen. She looked like she was sleeping. I still see that image of her lying there. It's so vivid ... almost as if it happened yesterday."

"The next four days were awful. I had to go back to school on Monday and endure hundreds of questions about what happened. I got to read about Alicia in the newspaper and see her on television. I got calls from all of the media asking questions. The police called and told me that we were all going to be arrested. So my dad called a lawyer for me. All this time, Alicia was still in the coma."

"On the Friday following the party, I went with my parents to the Justice Center to turn myself in. There was a warrant out for my arrest. Again, I was only 16 and I was SO scared. Sandra, Veronica, the two girls who we bought the pills from, another guy and myself were all arrested on drug-related charges. The shock was that they were all felonies. At the Justice Center, one of the cops who questioned me at the hospital took me into a room, separate from my parents, and arrested me. He just entered information into the computer. Then he asked me if I knew how Alicia was doing. I told him that I hadn't heard anything in awhile. He brought me back into the room with my parents, who were dealing with the bail bonds guy because I had a $2,500 bond. The cop looked at me and said the words I had feared all week long."

"_Alicia passed away at 1:13pm today_."

"I fell on the ground and started to cry. I just started shaking so badly. The cop told me that Alicia's parents had taken her off of life support. To this day, I have never understood why they did that. I was so upset that I did not even care that I had been arrested. I went home and just couldn't take it anymore. I sat in front of the television and waited for the news to come on. For some reason, I had a strong obsession with the media coverage of the case. I cut out every article from the newspaper about it and I still have them all." Devon frowned and added, "I even brought them to the island with me, so they'd be safe."

"When the news came on, I knew that it was a mistake to watch it. They had copies of the warrant and they said that we were all spending the weekend in jail, which obviously was a lie. They made us out to be terrible criminals who had killed our friend, but I believed it. I believed that everything which happened was my fault. I didn't sleep a wink that night. All I remember was thinking that Alicia was gone. I didn't understand why I hadn't died, too. I took Ecstasy just like she did. She was dead, but I was still alive. It did not make any sense to me."

"But then I realized that I was lucky. I was lucky to be alive and to have Sandra and Veronica. I wanted to pick up the phone and call them, but I was not allowed to because we were co-defendants. If I did talk to them, I'd go to jail. My parents were SO UPSET with me. I ... I felt so alone."

"All of this because of a stupid pill. It got me and my friends arrested. We were in-and-out of court for three months. In the end, we pled guilty to one charge. We were sentenced to one full year of probation and 100 hours of community service. Eventually, we were able to talk to each other again. Later, we learned that we were nearly charged with manslaughter. We were expelled from school and had to go to private school. My parents grounded me and did not let me do much of anything until I became an adult at age 18. Just about the only person who was really there for me at this point in time was Tim, my boyfriend. But my time with him was cut drastically because I was, as I said, grounded."

"But the worst part is that I lost a friend. Attending a 17-year-old girl's funeral is just unreal. There were about 500 people there. All of my friends were there, and even people from the community who did not know Alicia were there too. This had affected them all so much and it was really touching. But even after 10 years, I still cannot believe that it happened. I think about Alicia everyday."

After hearing that long dialogue, I had no response for Devon. None whatsoever. I could not believe what she had just told me. Devon, who seemed so mature and level-headed, was once arrested for the possession and use of an illegal drug? Devon? _DEVON_? She lost a friend due to it, too?

"I was only 16, Jeremy," Devon told me once more. "I was so young that I had no idea what I was getting myself into that night. It ... I ... still can't believe it. I've never touched any sort of drugs since then, nor will I ever again. It was a one-time thing." Tears streaked down her face as she added, "I don't touch alcohol anymore, either. I'm about as squeaky-clean nowadays as anyone can possibly be. I ... I just want you to know that, and understand it."

I quickly realized that I had to corral any thoughts that were negative about this situation, and get rid of them. Obviously, Devon was not some sort of addict. It seemed as if she had made a stupid mistake at a very early age - and paid the consequences for it. Fortunately, she made that mistake just once. Unfortunately, though, Alicia was no longer alive because of what happened that horrific night. Clearly, Devon was still in a lot of pain because of this.

"You don't hate me ... do you, Jeremy?" Devon whined, as she was crumpled over upon the humongous boulder next to me here in the forest. "I have told that story to others in the past and they wanted nothing to do with me because of it! Please tell me that you don't hate me for this!"

"Of course I don't hate you," I finally replied. "I could never hate you because of anything." I smiled at her and offered, "You are much too good of a person for me to think otherwise." Devon breathed a sigh of relief as I added, "But your parents still hold this against you?"

"Oh yes," she responded, wiping away some excess tears with her fingertips. "The media absolutely destroyed our family. They went to where my parents worked and hounded them everyday for quotes. They spoke to co-workers about them and me. My parents said that I had humiliated them and our good family name. My mom and dad ... they never forgave me for that. Maybe they shouldn't have, but at least they could have been a little nicer and more receptive toward me through the years since it passed."

"10 years later, they still give me the cold shoulder. I feel like an outcast in my own family. My sister, Denise, cares about me, I guess. So do my brothers, but I hardly see them anymore, either. Do you have any possible idea how incredibly lonely it was for me over Thanksgiving and Christmas? I spent time with my grandparents, yes, but I'd much rather have been with my parents themselves, and Denise, Mark and David." Devon shook her head and frowned. "I'll never understand their anger. It happened 10 years ago. 11-and-a-half years ago, even. Before that, I got along fine with them..."

"Come here," I said, bringing Devon into my arms and giving her a warm embrace. She began to gently sob upon my shoulder as I planted a simple kiss on the very crown of her pretty blonde head. "Shhhhh," I hushed her. "It's okay..."

"I've always felt responsible for Alicia's death!" Devon whined, much more upset now. "Alicia had so much to live for! A lot of times, with the way my life has turned out, I sit back and think that I should have been the one who died! Not Alicia, but me! _ME_!"

"HEY!" I scolded her, but in a very caring and sympathetic manner. I pulled Devon's lovely face away from my shoulder and looked into her bleary, tear-stained eyes. "I don't want to hear you talk like that again, Devon. I don't even want you to THINK that way again. That's crazy."

"I know..." she fretted, shaking her head. "It's just ... nothing in my life seems to go right. My parents want NOTHING TO DO WITH ME. I got stepped on at my job. I do not even HAVE a job anymore. And my ex-boyfriend, Barrett, treated me terribly. He was after Tim. I was with Barrett for seven years. It was seven wasted years. I just think that Alicia, if the roles were reserved, would have led a much more productive and happy life than I have."

"I know two people who want a whole lot to do with you," I told Devon, my voice firm and authoritative. "You are looking at one of them - me. The other is named Kristanna." Devon flashed a quick smile at the mention of Kristanna's name as I added, "I do not have one negative thought, as it pertains to you and my perception of you, because of what happened to Alicia. I will never look down on you because of it, Devon, or think any less of you. You were only 16 and really did not know any better. I think that you are an incredible woman and I would like the opportunity to get to know you on a much more personal level. I believe that you and I have a lot of things in common. A LOT."

"Just promise you won't tell anyone else on the island about this," Devon pleaded. "I want to do my best to put what happened behind me, and forget it. I don't want the others to talk about me and say things behind my back."

"Your secret is safe with me," I told her. "I won't tell any of the others about it." Although, I said inwardly, Kristanna was probably eavesdropping on us right now with the help of the voyeur room. She would know about Devon's secret, too. But I had no worries about that. Kristanna would _never_ tell the others what Devon had said to me.

But it was such an emotional struggle for Devon to share that dark tale from her past with me that her face was coated with a thick sheet of tears. I reached out and placed my hand on her chin, then offered her a warm, soothing smile. "Listen..." I said, my voice gentle and loving. "Thank you for sharing that with me. I want you to know that you can trust me, Devon. You can trust with me anything. Sharing something like that makes me feel a lot closer to you."

The 27-year-old sniffed her nose and wiped away some more tears. "Thank y-you for telling me about V-Victoria, and what sh-she did to y-you. I feel closer t-to you, t-too. I do ... I do trust you, Jeremy." Devon paused and added, "A bit later on, maybe tonight, I will show you a few of the newspaper articles from 2002. As I said, I brought all of them with me to the island so I knew that they would be safe. I have all of the clippings laminated to help preserve them."

"You don't have to do that..."

"I want to," she insisted. "I want to."

"I don't want you to show them to me if it will make you feel upset again," I countered.

"I'll be okay," she promised me. "I would like for you to see them. Alicia's name, my name, our friends' names ... we are all plastered throughout every article."

I stood up from the large boulder and extended my right hand to Devon. "Come on sweetheart, let's get back to the mansion. It will be time for dinner in a little while."

She accepted my hand and rose to her feet before me. "Do you think Kristanna would think any less of me if I were to tell her about Alicia?" I shook my head as she continued, "I really like Kristanna, you know, and I have this urge to be totally open and straightforward with people who are good to me. No one has been better to me since my arrival than you and Krissy. But I don't want her to look down on me."

"Kristanna would appreciate you confiding in her just as much as I have," I informed her. "She would not tell any of the others about it, either. She would not breathe a word. And Kristanna would NEVER look down on you. She is very open-minded, and has a forgiving heart."

"I don't want anyone else to know about it," Devon said. "No one but you and Missy Krissy. I was thinking about maybe telling Camille, but decided against it." When I began walking, Devon followed me in tow as I still held her hand. "Do you have any plans for tonight, Jeremy?"

"Not at all. Why?"

Devon smiled. "I was hoping that maybe I could stay with you in your room again. Your bed is so comfortable."

"Krissy was planning on sharing my bed with me tonight," I countered. "I am sure that she would love your company. I definitely know that I would love to have you with us."

"I would LOVE to go to bed and fall asleep with you and Krissy!" Devon chirped, suddenly full of joy and happiness. "Maybe I could sleep in the middle?"

I chuckled and remarked, "With Kristanna and I squishing and hugging on you from both sides?" Devon seemed to blush for a quick moment as I added, "Sure ... you could sleep in the middle between us. I have no problem with that."

Devon brought my hand to her mouth and kissed it. "What happened to that _rotation system_ you had planned? You know, where you were going to take a different girl to bed every night? The past couple of nights, at least, it seems that Krissy is going to bed with you more than anyone else."

"I'm taking a day-by-day approach," I replied. "Whomever I spend most of the day with, if I feel comfortable with her and she feels comfortable with me, chances are I will invite her to spend the night with me. The main three right now are you, Kristanna and Lindsay. But I do not want to push or prod Lindsay too much because of her age. Obviously, Trish is totally focused and zeroed-in on Lindsay. She does not realize that there are other people on the island, too. I like Pamela as a person, despite her profession and the stereotype that goes along with it. Amy is like the wind. She will want to be with me non-stop for a few days, then I will hardly see her for a few days. It is like Amy drifts in and out - like the wind. Wherever it takes her, I guess. Camille? Camille is the one girl out of all of you that I have yet to spend any quality time with. I haven't really even spoken to her. I am not close to her at all."

"I am glad that you feel comfortable around me," Devon grinned. "I feel comfortable around you too, Jeremy. I feel very comfortable around Krissy, as well. She is such an angel to me. I think ... I think I love her."

Kristanna was grinning like a Cheshire cat inside the voyeur room right now, I figured.

"Tell her that," I advised Devon. "Tell Krissy that you love her. I think she'll tell you the same thing."

"What about you, Jeremy?"

"What about me?"

Devon hesitated for a moment, then grinned and professed, "I'm also in love with you. I ... I love you, Jeremy."

Those words made me stop dead in my tracks. I immediately turned to face Devon and placed my hands atop her shoulders. Although I was already aware that Devon was in love with me - thanks to the voyeur room - I certainly did not expect her to share her feelings for me quite yet. I was somewhat stunned.

"Really?" was the first word that came out of my mouth. "You really feel that way about me?" When she nodded her head at me, I smiled and brought the young woman into my arms for another embrace. "Devon..." This was the first time a woman had spoken those words to my face in 19 years. Victoria - my ex-fiancee - was the last woman to say those three magical words to me. "I love you too, Devon."

I pulled back slightly and gazed into those amazing blue eyes for several seconds. Devon seemed happy and vibrant. It was so easy for me to tell. This woman really loved me.

Soon, I cemented my own feelings for her with a kiss. I pressed my lips to Devon's mouth and kissed her with an even mixture of tender love and affection. Perhaps Devon was the woman that I had been searching my entire life for? Was she my soul-mate? Could Devon, one day, become my bride?


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To Be Continued...
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Posted:  2012-05-27
Last Modified: 2012-08-05 / 04:13:16 pm
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