Island Paradise Revisited 17

M/F, F/F & just about everything else

Amy and Stephanie.

Could I perhaps mention the budding relationship between Amy and Stephanie some day in the same light - and the same glowing terms - as the one I do involving Lindsay and Trish?

At this early stage of their romance, it seemed like a definite possibility. Ever since that BDSM session last week - where Amy basically turned Stephanie into a quivering submissive - the two ladies had been absolutely inseparable.

Until all of the other women (except for Pamela) left the island on December 22 to visit their families for Christmas week, Amy and Stephanie spent every waking moment together. Stephanie, in her role as the willing submissive, followed Amy around like a lost puppy. She was completely in love with Amy, and was obviously willing to devote the rest of her life to the famous, mega-bucks pornstar.

Meanwhile, Amy seemed to have found a real match for herself in Stephanie. Quite often, the other ladies on the island (both during the summer and winter) looked at Amy as an uncaring sort who was only out for herself. I never saw her in such a negative light, but I was perhaps the only one.

However, it seemed as if Amy was creating a definite place for Stephanie in her heart. The two came across as a perfect couple - Amy's pure nastiness blended well with Stephanie's curiosity, and her willingness to try new, forbidden things.

While on this topic, I should mention that the porn flick that Amy starred in was shot just two days before Christmas. I had not received any details of the plot (if there even was one), but Amy wrote me through e-mail from her California apartment and offered up a few juicy tidbits for me.

As planned, Stephanie had a major role in the film. Amy said that the 25-year-old submissive took on three guys at once in a heated triple-fuck. Stephanie also had a scene with Amy, which I'm sure the brunette enjoyed very much.

In addition to that, I was informed that Amy took part in another lesbian scene with a fellow actress, as well as a straight-sex scene with a (very lucky) man.

Amy told me in her e-mail that the movie would be released in the middle of January, but she would try to get me a copy of it before then. Naturally, I could not wait. Not only was I an avid collector of Amy's X-rated movies, but I was very much looking forward to Stephanie's debut in porn, too.

After the filming was done, Stephanie flew cross-country on Christmas Eve so she could spend the holiday with her family in Connecticut. I'm quite certain that the young woman, who was a registered nurse at a local hospital, did not want anyone in her regular life to know of her foray into porn. She would have to keep that a guarded secret from her friends and co-workers for the rest of her life.

What I found somewhat interesting was the fact that Amy had also went along for the trip. It seemed as though Stephanie's family knew that she was bi-sexual, and accepted it. Otherwise, why would they allow Amy into their home? The two went there as a couple, and were even spending their evenings together in Stephanie's old room.

Whatever the case, Amy's decision to spend Christmas in Connecticut showed me that the pornstar's feelings were sincere regarding Stephanie. It was obvious to me that Amy and her feelings for Stephanie were getting stronger and more solidified with every passing day.

Torrie, who of course was an ex-pornstar, and who shared an apartment with Amy, also went home to California. She would spend the holiday with her own family, but then use the rest of the week to move all of her stuff out of the apartment that she and Amy shared together.

Torrie and Amy were "on the outs", so to speak, and it seemed as though the buxom blonde wanted to sever all ties with her former lover. Just about the only thing Torrie and Amy would have in common anymore was the fact that both of them were guests on the island (which I was thankful for).

Torrie and Amy were not at odds, nor did they hate each other. It just seemed as if the two ladies had come to a mutual understanding, and decided to split apart peacefully. Torrie regretted the fact that she ever allowed Amy to drag her into porn. It was a big mistake on her part.

It seemed as though nothing could split Lindsay and Trish apart - except perhaps the holidays. While Lindsay traveled to Ohio so she could be with her family, Trish went home to Canada. The two ladies promised to call each other every single night, and Trish had even persuaded Lindsay into trying "cyber sex" with her through their home computers. Lindsay agreed, but was also eager to try "phone sex", too.

I'd love to eavesdrop on that particular conversation...

I was particularly happy for Lindsay, who had not seen her loved ones since June. She had devoted her life to Pamela, myself and this island, and I was very grateful for that. I sincerely hoped that she would do many things with her family this week before returning home - to the island.

After several in-depth conversations with Devon about her own family - and the way they (mis)treated her - I was very surprised to find that she opted to go home (to Pennsylvania) for the holidays. Of course, Devon had an open invitation to stay here on the island - with Pamela and yours truly - but decided at the last minute she rather be with her family.

I supported her in every way, but was still disappointed that Devon did not want to spend Christmas with us. On the other hand, though, the rightful place for her was with her family. Families - if at all possible - are supposed to be together during Christmas. I just hoped that Devon was having a good time, and not experiencing any of that neglect or abandonment that she had spoken to me so much about.

Of course, all of the ladies would be making their return to my island of paradise on December 29. I could not wait until their flight touched down in Lima - a South American city located in the country of Peru. Someone else who could not wait for that day to arrive was Pamela, too.

* * *

As I lay awake in bed on this warm Christmas morning, all the preceding thoughts concerning my flock of angels seemed to fade away as I turned and looked at Pamela. My precious wife was still fast asleep, her lovely face all peaceful and content as she lounged merrily in the land of dreams.

Last evening - Christmas Eve - Pamela and I spent several hours on the mainland. We visited Lima and its most upscale (expensive) Chinese restaurant, and then took a tour of a few of the city's well-respected art galleries.

It was a fabulous evening to say the least, and I promised to bring Pamela back to the mainland tomorrow. She had an interest in visiting Museo de la Nacion, which was easily Lima's most compelling archeology museum. My wife was very smart and sharp-witted, and enjoyed learning about the past and its many wonders and secrets.

Pamela and I also had plans - along with Lindsay - to go on a tram ride to and from Machu Picchu sometime next year. As the most fabled Inca ruin in all of Peru, Machu Picchu was looked at as a national treasure and sanctuary. It was home to many myths and legends, and was nearly 600 years old.

Of course, Pamela, Lindsay and myself may have some company for that trip - especially if Trish and Devon (and even Torrie) decided to commit themselves to us and the island for a long-term basis. Trish would DEFINITELY be staying with us, thanks to her relationship with Lindsay. That much, I was absolutely sure of.

"Merry Christmas, dear," I said to Pamela as she still slept away, while planting gentle kisses upon her cheek and neck. My wife roused about for a moment, then opened her eyes and smiled brightly at me. "Merry Christmas, sweet thing," I reiterated, offering her my own smile.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," Pamela moaned, arching her back and then stretching both arms above her head to ease out the kinks of a long night's rest.

Laying next to her in bed, I reached over and grasped the back of Pamela's shoulders with both of my hands. I offered my sweet wife a good massage, then turned her around so she was facing me. "I'm not real sure I want to get out of bed today, dear," I said to her, my smile sincere and genuine. "The present I want the most is right here."

Pamela giggled like a schoolgirl as I used both hands to first cup, then squeeze her large breasts through the white, oversized night-shirt which she wore. Pamela then shoved my hands away from her breasts, but I just moved both right back and fondled her once again. This time, the stacked blonde did not offer any resistance.

"I hope you didn't buy me the world for Christmas," she said, her words honest. "How much did you spend for the girls the other night, and their Christmas grab-bag party? Let's see... a new Ferrari for Trish and Torrie, provided they ever leave the island. A Mediterranean cruise for Stephanie and a Hawaiian vacation for Amy. The most lavish, expensive lingerie I have EVER seen, and that jewelry you bought for all the girls... I bet it cost you a million dollars all by itself. How much total did you spend? I can only imagine what you spent on ME, since I'm your wife..."

"What does it matter how much I spent on the others, or you?" was my question. "I think you all deserve it. Don't forget about what I got Lindsay and Devon, either."

"Trust me, I didn't," Pamela returned. "How could I? I just don't think you need to throw all that money around, Jeremy. No one expects or wants you to buy expensive gifts for us. I mean... you're giving everyone three million dollars at the end of the winter. Isn't there a limit?"

"Not really," I told her. "No matter if I go on spending sprees from now until the day I die, I'll never run out of money." I smiled and added, "I love buying those expensive presents for you and the others, dear. It makes me happy inside when I see the looks on your faces. Don't worry, it won't break me. I can afford it."

Pamela paused for a moment and frowned, before saying, "I have a question for you, Jeremy. What have any of us done - myself included - to deserve these things from you?

"Pamela..." I returned, my eyes narrow as I looked at her. "Don't talk like that... you're my wife."

"I mean, you offered everyone money to come here, so we could have sex with you and each other. I don't think anyone, with our backgrounds, would accuse us of being pure and wholesome. Amy was the gang-banger, Trish participated in wild orgies with her girlfriends. Torrie never said 'no' to a guy... I was the stripper. Devon was the..."

"You're pure and wholesome in my eyes," I said, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "Pamela, I love you. I don't want you to EVER think that you don't deserve what I give you. You're my wife, and you deserve EVERYTHING."

"I guess Lindsay was the exception to the rule," Pamela mused, continuing on with her prior thought. "She was all sweet and innocent... wholesome and pure. At least, before she came to the island. But remember, Lindsay lied on her application about her sexual experiences to you."

"What is your point in saying these things to me?" I asked her, my voice a bit incessant.

"What I said earlier," she replied. "What have any of us done to deserve these gifts from you? We come to the island with the promise of sex, and getting paid big money for it. Those two things are the only reasons I came here in the first place. But things changed, and I became your wife. I... I just think that sometimes, despite being married to you, I'm really nothing more than a high-priced whore."

Pamela turned her face away from me as I was nestled over top of her, and began to cry. I looked down at her and shook my head in response, then grabbed her chin and turned her face toward mine. She was still crying, albeit lightly.

"I don't know why you have these thoughts in your head," were my words for her. "I offered you girls money to spend first the summer, then the winter with me on this island. I never said anything about sex. You just inferred that."

"Yeah, I guess I did," my wife responded, her tone uneven. "I guess the advertisement which said only women who were bi-sexual and open to new and exciting things need apply was the thing that threw me off."

"You're not a whore, Pamela," I said to her, my tone now strict and strong. "None of you girls are."

"Then what are we?" she asked, a tear escaping her eye. "What have we done to deserve these presents and gifts from you?" She paused and added, "What? A good blowjob? A good roll in the sack? What? Is that worth millions of dollars of presents for us? What? What? What?"

"Pamela, I love you," I told her again, trying to get my point across. "I love Lindsay, Trish, Torrie. I love Amy, and I'm very close to loving Stephanie and Devon. I buy these things for all of you because of the way I feel for you." I hesitated before saying, "I'm not all about the sex, dear. I think you know that. I think you know that I care about all of these girls very, very much. I want the best for them, and anything less is unacceptable to me. The person I love the most, though... that is YOU. You, Pamela."

"I have this fear," Pamela said, her voice cracking as she began to cry harder. "I fear that one day, you're going to wake up, Jeremy. You're... you're... going to wake up, and find that you don't want me anymore."

"Why?" I gasped as my insides were torn to shreds with those ominous words. I grabbed Pamela's face with both hands as she totally broke down and started to cry uncontrollably.

"I'm not like you, Jeremy," she sobbed, trying to wiggle her face free of my grasp. "I can't buy the world or anyone in it at the snap of a finger. I am a stripper who came from a family that despised the fact that I ever became one. But that was not the worst thing. I... I wasn't good enough to do anything else. I needed to strip, just to live."

"You needed to strip to get through college," I corrected her, about to break down and cry myself. I could not stand to see my beloved wife in this frame of mind. "You wanted to make something of yourself, Pamela. You were studying secondary education, and you wanted to be a teacher. You being a stripper did NOT make you a bad person."

"I always have that nightmare," Pamela told me, her voice settling down somewhat. "You'll wake up one day and realize that I'm not good enough for you. I'm just a stripper who worked at a dive joint, and you're the gazillionaire."

"You're not good enough for me?" I exclaimed, in the process of losing my composure. Tears flowed from my eyes as I told her, "I have the same nightmare about you!"

I closed my eyes and tried to cover my face, ashamed of the fact that I was crying in front of my wife. Men were not supposed to act like this - but there was no stopping it. Still, I could not let Pamela see me like this.

"You think I'd leave you?" she asked quietly, her tone full of shock. "I love you, Jeremy... You're the absolute best thing that ever happened to me."

"What do you think you are to me?" I loudly shrieked.

"I think we're both insecure," Pamela added after several

seconds of silence. "I just don't understand what all of us have done to deserve these expensive gifts from you, Jeremy."

"What else am I gonna do with my money?" I shot back at her, my voice full of heated anguish. "My God, Pamela! I try to do good things for people who have been good to me, and you want to pick my reasons apart for doing so!" I paused and added, "You don't even want any of my money! I offer to buy you things, and you always tell me not to."

My wife pouted before returning, "That's because I don't want you to think you have to buy things for me. Jeremy, your money is meaningless to me. I don't really want or need any part of it. I'd love you just the same if you lived on the street - like those homeless people we saw last night in Lima. You know, the ones you gave money to?"

"Is that what this is about?" I asked, wiping my tears away and showing my face to her. Finally, I had corralled my emotions. "You think that I am gonna start looking at you and the others differently if I continue to buy you all presents? If I continue to give you all money? As if you and the others suddenly become too greedy in my eyes?"

"Kind of," she replied, her voice timid. "I guess I subscribe to the old stereotype. Beautiful girl marries a rich man. Beautiful girl is gold-digger, and wants nothing from the rich man but his money. I'm not that way, Jeremy. But I fear that you will one day think of me like that. So, I want nothing to do with your money. I can't chance it."

"I wouldn't have married you, Pamela, if you were that way," I told her gently. "Seems as if you were, you'd be taking constant trips to the mainland to do some shopping. Or you'd be on the computer, ordering all types of stuff for yourself. You'd be stuck-up and conceited, snobbish... you'd think you were better than everyone else."

I paused and told her, "But you're NOT that way. You're Pamela... my dear, sweet wife. The woman I love. The woman I married, and want to spend the rest of eternity with. You say I'm the best thing that ever happened to you. No... YOU'RE the best thing that ever happened to ME. You don't have to shut yourself completely off from my money, dear."

Pamela was about to cry as she said, "I'm sorry, Jeremy.

This is all my fault. I've ruined Christmas for you."

"No," I told her. "I want you to tell me any concerns or fears you have about our relationship. I want you to tell me EVERYTHING, Pamela. And you haven't ruined Christmas for me, either. You're with me, and that makes my Christmas better than any other." I paused and added, "This is our first Christmas together, sweetheart."

"Yes, it is..." she quaked.

"We shouldn't be laying here in bed, with tears in our

eyes, on Christmas morning," I told her. "We should be at the tree right now, exchanging gifts."

"I don't want anything," she whined.

"Pamela..." I growled, shaking my head. "You're going to

drive me insane. I bought you some very nice things for Christmas. They are YOURS. Please... for me. Let's go to the tree. I want you to open and enjoy your presents. Do it, sweetheart... do it, for me. Christmas is about giving, not receiving." I paused and told her, "It would hurt me if you refused to open them. Besides... one present, I made for you with my own two hands. I didn't buy it at all."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes suddenly glowing.

"Really," I told her.

"What can I possibly get for you, Jeremy, that you could

use?" Pamela wondered. "I mean, whatever you want... you just go out and buy. You don't even think twice about it. The stuff I got you, I bet you won't even need or use."

"It's the thought that counts, dear Pamela," I responded. "Besides, I will love all of my presents from you because they are from you." I smiled at her and added, "You've given me the best gift of all, though, and there is no price-tag or dollar value that can be placed on it."

"Oh?" she said, confused. "And what would that be?"

I pressed my hand to her chest and responded, "I'm not touching your breasts, Pamela. I'm touching your heart."

My wife sighed at first, then cracked her first smile in several moments. Seeing her smile made me feel much better inside, and my outward reaction told her just that.

"If you rather, sweetheart, let's forget that I got you any presents," I told her. "You don't want any... I guess that is fine. I'll just return them."

"No," she said, perhaps having a sudden change of mind. "You said you wanted me to open them... for you. That is what I will do, Jeremy. For you."

I smiled at her and offered, "We're married, Pamela. I know you don't want to think this way, but my money is your money. I've chosen to share my life with you, and my money is included in that. I want you to enjoy things."

"You have nothing to worry about, dear," I added. "If you wanted five million dollars right now to go out and buy something for yourself, I'd give it to you. I wouldn't have a moment's hesitation about it. It's as much your money as it is mine, because we're married. I wouldn't think bad of you, nor would I say 'she is after my money'. You're my wife and you're not that type of person. I TRUST you."

"You know I'm not going to ask for anything," she said to me. "I have much more than I ever hoped for on this island. A home, food, clothes... love."

"I know you won't ask for anything," I told her. "At least, not right now. I hope you will eventually, though. I want you to feel comfortable in every aspect of our marriage, and I want YOU to trust that I trust YOU."

Still pinned beneath me upon the bed, Pamela took a deep breath and said, "Would you like to hear something funny? I've wanted to tell you this since the others left."

"Sure," I returned, grinning. "What is it?"

"Lindsay said she is going to get me a Christmas present,"

Pamela replied. "In honor of what happened between me and Devon, Lindsay is getting me a pair of boxing gloves."

I bursted out into a fit of laughter, and shook my head in response. It was only fitting that Lindsay - our little comedian - would think of something crazy like that.

* * * * * * *

As I sat in the spacious central room, located on the lower level of the mansion, a fire raged in the hearth behind me. It wasn't necessary for warmth, despite the fact that there was a cool breeze blowing outside on this holiday night. Nor was the fire for light, as there were plenty of wall and desk lamps lit up all around me.

I simply enjoyed listening to the sounds it made.

As the fire cackled behind me, I heard footsteps from the nearby staircase and smiled at what I saw descending toward me. I had been reading a book, but slipped a leather marker into its pages before closing it as Pamela slowly made her way to the bottom of the steps.

"Hey," my wife said with a hopeful smile. "Good book?"

I nodded my head at her while placing the paperback onto

a nearby end table. "Of course it's a good book. It was one of the presents you gave me earlier today."

"Ghost stories," Pamela returned, her voice picking up. "I thought you would like a book about them." She paused before adding, "I'm glad you were reading it, Jeremy."

I held out my arm and motioned with my head for Pamela to come over to me. She did just that, and I pulled her into a seated position - all snug and close against my side.

I placed a gentle kiss upon her cheek, and offered her a warm smile. "I'm glad, sweetheart, that you finally came down here to spend some time with me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Pamela said with a slight giggle. "I was taking a bubble-bath, and fell asleep."

"That's okay," I told her, grinning. "You deserved it.

Christmas has always made me real tired and sleepy, too."

I patted my lap with an open hand, and then Pamela smiled as she moved up and took a seat across it. I smiled at her again as she hooked her arms around my neck, while I slipped mine around her lower back.

"Much more comfortable now," Pamela smirked, looking at the fire cackle on behind me. "Very romantic scene, here."

"I started the fire, sweetheart, because it soothes my mind to listen to it," I offered. "I've always enjoyed reading books the most with a fire in the background."

"You must not read a lot when it's 100 degrees outside," the enchantress grinned. "You'd be up!"

"Indeed," I returned, before pausing. "You know, dear? I was thinking earlier about Amy and Stephanie, and their newfound love. You and Amy used to be room-mates during the summer." Pamela nodded her head as I continued, "I was just wondering what your reaction would have been if - at one time - Amy tried to make you into her, quote, personal slut."

Pamela's eyes grew big as she returned, "You mean bondage? If Amy tried to put me into bondage?" She paused before adding, "Oh, that's easy. I would have loved it." My heart nearly skipped a beat as Pamela continued, "I've always found the thought of being tied up very, very exciting. I'd be willing to try it... only with the right person, of course."

I gulped my throat, my cock quickly forming an erection. Pamela as a submissive? The mere thought made me tremble with absolute, pure excitement. Oh, the possibilities...

"Would you be willing to try it with me?" I asked her, after several seconds of silence. Pamela giggled at me as I continued, "Let me put you into bondage?"

"Sure, but not tonight," she replied, still giggling. "I remember you tied Amy up at the end of the summer, Jeremy. You and I can experiment sometime." Pamela paused and grinned before adding, "Of course, turn-about is fair play. You can tie me up. But I get to tie you up too, lover-boy."

My eyes nearly exploded at those words. Being bound and restrained did not excite me at all, but I would agree to it (without hesitation) provided the chance I could chain and collar my lovely wife - if just every now and then.

As she said, however... not tonight. Blah.

"Have you talked to Torrie much lately, Jeremy?" Pamela wondered. "Since Trish came back to the island?"

"Not really," was my response. "Torrie has been rather quiet, at least to me, since Trish returned."

"I think the three-way relationship she has with both Lindsay and Trish is not going all that well," Pamela told me. "Torrie still seems a little ticked off and depressed that Lindsay loves Trish so much more than she loves her."

"Trish still doesn't even have a clue that Torrie caused such a problem before she returned to the island," I said to my wife. "Lindsay and everyone else promised to keep it a closely-guarded secret, away from Trish."

"That's good," Pamela nodded. "But I still think that Torrie is horribly depressed. She wants Lindsay to look at her as her number one in life, not a distant second."

I shook my head and returned, "I'll have a talk with Torrie, then. She's not going to get any closer to Lindsay than she already is. Trish shares her with Torrie."

"Maybe all three of them being together is not such a good thing," my wife mused. "I mean, it could be making Torrie's feelings for Lindsay all that much stronger... which, in turn, makes her feel all the more miserable."

"Perhaps," I shrugged. "I couldn't stand being with you and another woman, Pamela, if you loved that woman more than you did me. Torrie is going through that now, even though she gets all the intimacy from Lindsay that she can handle. Torrie is always playing second-fiddle to Trish."

"Devon loves you," Pamela said to me, her tone picking up and becoming more energetic. "She told me."

"Is that okay with you?" I asked, tightening my grip on her waist a bit more as she lounged about in my lap.

"Of course it's okay with me," my wife returned. "Devon said that she loves me, too. I don't know about that - at least, not yet. But she does love you. I am sure of it." Pamela paused and added, "Your relaxed, friendly attitude has really gotten to her, Jeremy."

"I figured that," were my words. "People have always told me that my biggest attraction is my peaceful nature. I'm too nice and respectful for everyone to understand."

"Devon is going to stay with us on the island," Pamela said. "She hasn't told me that yet directly, Jeremy. But I can pretty much tell that Devon has made up her mind. Devon will spend the rest of her life here if we let her."

"You're the boss, Pamela, so she can stay as long as it is okay with you," I quietly told her. "I don't want you to think - at any time - that our marriage is threatened. I love you, sweetheart. You're number one in MY life."

"Devon will be like Lindsay, who loves you, too," Pamela offered. "I don't have a problem with Lindsay staying here with us... do I? I won't have problems with Devon, either." She paused and coyly added, "Besides, Devon has one of the sweetest pussies I have ever had the pleasure of tasting."

I took a deep breath at those words before saying, "So in other words... you don't mind Devon staying here as long as you get to sink your tongue into her pussy?"

"Just the same as long as you get to sink your COCK into her pussy," Pamela replied, mocking me - but with a grin.

"It's good to see that you're in a better mood, dear, than you were when we first woke up," I said, kissing her on the cheek yet again. "We're going back to the mainland tomorrow to check out that museum, and do some other sight-seeing, as you wanted." I paused and added, "I want you to buy something, too. I don't really care what it is, as long as it's expensive, and it's something you want."

"I can't do that, Jeremy," Pamela said in a half-moan, half-whine. "You know I can't."

"You will," I corrected her. "I'm not going to buy it for you, either. You're going to buy it for yourself, because my money is your money. You really need to learn that, because you're my wife and we're a team that shares everything right down the middle... fifty-fifty."

Pamela did not respond to my words. Instead, there was a distressed look upon her face as she continued sitting on my lap. I considered for a moment to take back my words, but then decided not to. My money was Pamela's money. At least for right now, though, I wanted Pamela to buy something very special for herself. She truly deserved it.

"I can't," she said after several seconds. "I'm sorry."

Of all the women on the island, Pamela was the only one

who would object to having a limitless amount of money to spend. It was just her nature and plus, she was afraid it would hurt our marriage in the long run. I trusted Pamela and her feelings for me, so she had nothing to worry about in that regard. My job was to convince her of that...

<<<- End of Part 17 ->>>

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