Font size : - +


7 beautiful women and 1 lucky man

Island Fever
Chapter 2 - "Literacy"
Written by: JeremyDCP

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. I
could have rehearsed this beforehand, but chose not to. I
did not want to come across sounding contrived or insincere.

"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. It may
even be a bit scary. I do not want it to be awkward. I do
not want you to feel scared, or even the slightest hint of
trepidation. I want you to feel at ease. There is nothing
be feel awkward or scared 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 if not that day,
then the next. Literally no questions asked."

"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 upon. 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 yourselves
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 crush on
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 leaned 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 leaned away from
Pamela, then smiled at Lindsay and her absolutely 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. It
seemed as if she could not believe that Amy had asked her
such a horrible, raunchy question.

"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!"

Camille giggled at their exchange. "I think she's funny.
But I also agree with her."

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 Pamela, Devon 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, it
would certainly 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 35 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 felt 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.

Clearly, 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.
But did she understand that her words had ramifications?

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.
Again, how could I go wrong with any of them?

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.
Ahhhhh, the sting of rejection. This was not the first time
for me. It most assuredly would not be the last, either.

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,
but it was also a tremendous amount of fun. Swimming was one
thing that I definitely enjoyed. I could do it all day.

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 during the first week of June... 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 June was obviously 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.
That's all I got to say about that."

"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.
Not just any sperm, but _my_ sperm! 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. It is one
giant free-for-all which lasts for hours on end."

"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 gone 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?"



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 suppose that 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 2009 _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 2014 _Lotus Elise_ convertible, for about $70,000
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 nearly 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 confirmed. "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. I am
truly their mother hen. The next girl in terms of seniority
has only been there 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. I
would never think of any woman in such a way."

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. "Is there something wrong with
that? I am a man, after all. 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. I...
I really cannot stress that enough. Perhaps there should be
another meeting with everyone so I can reiterate it."

"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. She is from Norway.
Kristanna was hoping to be here yesterday to meet and greet
all of you girls upon your arrival, but could not make it."


"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. Could it get any better than 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 little pussy with her
lips and tongue. Oh my God... I was getting an erection just
thinking about it. I did not want Pamela to know!

"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. Her voice turned
rather shrill once she asked, "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. I don't
think it will take me very long."

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. I'm very surprised you didn't
make more of a move on me at the pool earlier."

"Oh. Well... I can make a move on you now."

"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.
Just... never had the opportunity thus far."

"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 me 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 own 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!

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
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
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."

<<<- End of Chapter 2 ->>>

==---- -- -- -- - --- -- -- - - --- -- -- --- - -- - - - - --- -- ----==
"Island Fever"
(c) 2014 JeremyDCP

Feedback is always appreciated!


2017-05-19 00:35:29
It is getting better and better; I will keep reading.

Anonymous readerReport

2016-04-20 20:06:03
check chaturbate and wank

Anonymous readerReport

2016-01-09 18:33:03
You sound like ur 70 or other. you keep calling the women dear like a old women would

Anonymous readerReport

2016-01-09 17:37:45
"precisely 9.15am", "exited my personal suite" ?? You make him sound like a poncy mummy's boy! Just use the words such as "Waking up the next morning, I felt I hadn't slept that WELL (don't use good here), in a long time. I showered and shaved, dressed in some casual clothes and went to the kitchen to get something to eat before our 10am meeting". theren you go, just replaced 10 lines with one sentence. we really don't need to know what sort of clothes unless the attire is for something specific like going for a swim, or changing the oil in your car, or hang gliding -whatever! Just stop embellishing every action just to make sure you remind us how rich you are or how sumptuous the "mansion" is. (Really rich people don't call their house a "mansion", they just say "house" or "home"; it IS obvious to the visitor that the joint IS fucking huge.)
I'll stop now and get back to the story. I hope the rest of this chapter is better than the first 2 or 3 paragraphs!

Anonymous readerReport

2015-11-01 07:19:30
My kind of action. This is the way life was life should be. This is what true life and love is to be!!!!

You are not logged in.
Characters count: