<<< IPE-27.txt >>>
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"Island Paradise: Eternity" - Chapter 27 of ??
--> M/F, F/F and just about everything else
--> Author: HighlanderJM@hotmail.com
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The airline flight which Devon and I took from Cincinnati
to Philadelphia landed at 11:03am on Thursday morning. But
while still in the air, we telephoned her grandparents and
made plans to meet up with them later that afternoon. Her
grandparents also said they would see what they could do
about arranging a get-together between Devon and her parents,
as well as her older sister and two younger brothers. The
fact that we were even visiting was a major surprise to them.
Being February, the weather in Pennsylvania was not much
different than what we had experienced hours earlier in Ohio.
Devon and I were spoiled island dwellers - no doubt - but we
at least came prepared. You name it, we had it. We combated
the cold, blustery conditions with heavy winter coats, extra
layers of clothing, gloves, scarves and boots. Devon even
wore a pair of ski glasses (her eyes were - quote - "cold").
My beloved wife and I rented a car and made the 40 mile
drive from Philadelphia to the rural town in which she had
spent all of her young life in until coming to the island
last June. Devon said it was good to be back home, even
though for awhile, she never wanted to return to Pennsylvania
because of all the problems she had with her parents. Time,
as they say, heals all wounds. Or at least it should.
I would love to report that our attempt at reconciliation
between Devon and her parents was successful. But if I said
that, I would be lying. I could not believe it, but Devon's
mother and father STILL wanted nothing to do with her. They
turned us away, saying that Devon was no longer welcome in
their lives. The incident involving Devon and her friends
in high school - eight long years ago - which brought shame
and unwanted media attention to her family still had to be
the reason. Devon's mother even called her a "trollop" and
asked, when told that she was pregnant, if the baby was mine.
That remark made me incredibly angry, but I kept my cool
and quickly escorted a dishelved and heartbroken Devon back
to our rental car. She had been prepared if her mother and
father would have turned us away. She was not prepared to be
turned away in this fashion, though. It was baffling to me
how any parent(s) could treat their own daughter this way.
All Devon wanted to do was make peace with them...
Devon quickly composed herself and said that she was not
going to allow her parents to ruin our stay in Pennsylvania.
She still had two loving grandparents, whom we immediately
went to visit, and a sister and two brothers.
Her grandparents, whom I had met at our wonderful wedding
in the Bahamas last year, were incredibly nice and friendly.
They welcomed us with open arms and treated us to a delicious
spaghetti dinner. Her siblings came over to visit as well,
and it turned into a little family reunion of sorts. Devon
sat up into the wee hours of the morning talking with her
sister, Denise, even after her two brothers had left, and her
grandparents (as well as yours truly) retired to bed.
The following day, Devon was in much better spirits and
seemed intent to put the nasty episode with her parents
behind her. "I want to show you around," she told me with a
smile, grabbing my hands and dragging me out into the cold
(but not before the two of us had bundled up, of course).
Among our early destinations was the elementary, middle
and high schools which Devon had attended while growing up.
Since school was in session, we chose not to step foot on
the grounds, much less enter the buildings.
Devon did point out a specific entrance to the middle
school which she had attended. "I got my first kiss right
there - outside of that door. April 3rd, 1991. It was
from my first boyfriend. But we didn't date long."
"You should have kissed ME outside the door that day," I
offered, nudging her shoulder in a playful manner.
"You should have been there for me to kiss," she said,
teasing me in return. "And I would have kissed you. But
you were off in New Jersey chasing that April chick."
"I never did get April to like me," I grinned, shaking
my head. "No matter what I tried. Days of lost youth..."
We then stopped off at the pizza parlor in town square
and had lunch there. Devon said she worked at this joint
for two years while attending high school. "It was my
first job. Some nights I was a cashier while other nights
I was a waitress. Everyone from school used to come here
and hang out on Friday and Saturday nights. It was fun."
Unfortunately, the pizza parlor was under new management
and Devon did not recognize any of its employees. She had
been hoping to meet up with her old boss, but we were told
that he recently sold the parlor and then retired.
Next, we went to the local shopping center and took a tour
of its mall. "I used to sit on this rock fountain with my
friends when we were younger and we'd scout out guys. We'd
even have debates about them. I think that guy is so cute.
Veronica says the guy over there is much hotter. Then Missy
would chime in and say the guy over yonder beats them all.
Sometimes, we would even argue back-and-forth about it!"
"We had this ritual at our high school," Devon told me
later that afternoon, as we stood in a little forested area
behind a snow-covered baseball diamond in a city park. She
pointed toward a large boulder and added, "No boyfriend and
girlfriend were officially a couple until they made out here.
We called this Lover's Rock. You could spot a boyfriend and
girlfriend here after school quite often."
"What about a girlfriend and girlfriend?" I asked, again
teasing her. "Did you seduce any innocent girls here?"
Devon slapped my shoulder and playfully huffed, "Jeremy!
I didn't have my first bi experience until I was 20, and
well out of high school. I told you that before! Only
high school kids ever made out here at Lover's Rock."
"They were officially considered a couple then?"
"Yes," she nodded.
Displaying my spirited side, I brought Devon into my arms
and kissed her, then pulled her down to the ground with me.
She put up a little fight but gave into my lustful advances.
I kissed her deeply and snagged quick, cheap feels of her
bundled-up body as we reclined upon the large boulder known
as Lover's Rock. Of course, I made sure the coast was clear
every few seconds - so that no one was watching us.
"I guess we're officially a couple now," I eventually told
Devon, but only after two minutes of heavy kisses and petting.
She stood up and giggled, then dusted the snow off of her
clothing. "You're crazy, Jeremy," Devon offered, grinning
and shaking her head as she slapped her hand upon the boulder.
"But that did bring back some memories."
"You're the one that's crazy, woman," I responded. "Admit
it. The only reason you showed me Lover's Rock and told me
about it is because you wanted me to make out with you here.
Otherwise, we wouldn't be standing out here in the cold!"
"Guilty as charged!" Devon snickered, throwing her arms
around my shoulders and hugging me playfully. "This is the
equivalent of the grotto back home on the island, I guess.
No one is a couple on the island until they hop into the
grotto and make out in one of the hidden tunnels."
"Me, you and Kristanna have done more than make out in
the grotto over the past several months," I grinned. "We
have done a lot more in it, in fact. A LOT more..."
Our final stop on the Pennsylvania sight-seeing tour took
place at the cemetery where Devon's best friend from high
school, Allison, was forever resting. I allowed Devon, who
had bought flowers beforehand, to walk up to the grave-site
by her lonesome and say whatever she had to say to Allison.
Devon dropped to her knees in the snow and laid the
flowers down across the tombstone, and just started talking.
I did not want to know what was said, nor did I even feel
curious. It was between friends and should stay that way.
But in no time flat, Devon was crying and as a result, I
found it difficult to hold back my own emotions. Both of us
cracked a smile, however - through our tears - when Devon
patted her stomach and pointed over toward me. I KNOW what
she told Allison then and there. She was pregnant, and I
was her husband. Devon clutched her heart and I read her
lips when she told her friend, "I love him SO much..."
I quickly turned my head away after that, though, not
wanting to know anything else that Devon said to Allison.
It really needed to remain between them.
The conversation lasted a good 10 minutes. Once Devon
returned to me, after leaving the flowers behind of course,
she and I shared an emotional and heartwarming embrace. I
kissed and wiped her tears away, then suggested that we go
back to her grandparents' house for dinner.
Tonight, they served us a scrumptious turkey feast. It
seemed like Thanksgiving all over again, even though this
was February. We were also joined by her sister and pair of
brothers once again. It was another wonderful evening which
lasted into the late hours of the morning yet again.
* * *
We originally planned to spend three days in Pennsylvania,
but cut that down to two with the way Devon's parents had
rebuffed her attempt at reconciliation. For whatever reason,
Devon insisted that we go to Baltimore for one day and try to
talk Pamela into coming back home to the island with us.
I tried to tell her that I had put Pamela behind me and
moved on. But Devon wanted to give her one more try. "Once
you see her again, all those old feelings will come back to
you. Trust me. You'll think that you put her behind you..."
On the airline flight from Philadelphia to Baltimore,
Devon and I concocted a plan on how to meet up with Pamela.
We could go to the strip club where she worked, but it would
not offer us any privacy - which was what we needed. Devon
and I decided to call the club and arrange for one of those
"private parties" which Pamela was now investing time in.
Although she did not know that Devon and I were the ones
waiting for her, Pamela would come to the airport hotel with
nothing but another job on her mind. She was going to strip
and perform for a "married couple who are in town to visit a
friend" in the comfort of our hotel room. Or, at least that
was the impression which she was under.
Pamela was not cheap, either. The going rate was $250 an
hour for her private performances, or $700 for three hours.
Devon and I chose the latter, of course. We could afford it.
The time was 6:50pm on this Saturday evening when Devon
and I were relaxing on the bed in our spacious room. We had
a flight to return to Peru in the morning, with a quick
stop-over in Miami. I had also bought Pamela an airline
ticket - just in case. Pamela was supposed to show up at
7:00 tonight, but we figured that she would be a bit early.
Whatever the case, we were now ready for her.
"You remember what my mom called me the other day?" Devon
said to me as we lounged upon the bed. "A trollop?"
"How could I ever forget it?" was my response.
Devon frowned. "My parents have more reason to be mad
and upset with me than just what happened in high school.
They were angry about it for years, but one night when I
was 19, they got even more mad. I... I think that is the
primary reason why they disapprove of me so much."
"What happened when you were 19?" I asked, interested.
"You didn't experiment with Ecstasy again... did you? After
what it had done to Allison when you were 17?"
"NO! Of course not!" she answered, offended.
"I'm sorry..."
"I never told anyone this before, Jeremy," Devon pouted
after a brief moment, gulping her throat. "Well... anyone
who mattered to me, at least. But it's a reason why I feel
so much for Pamela, and want her to be happy. I know what
it is like to be in her shoes. I really do."
"What do you mean?"
Devon frowned once more and shook her head. "I never
lied to you about this, Jeremy. I just never told you about
it. I SWEAR to you... this is the ONLY THING I have EVER
held back from you. It's... a time of my life that I would
really rather just forget."
"What is it? What happened? Tell me."
"I used to be a stripper, too."
"You WHAT?" I asked, my eyes wide.
"I used to be a stripper, too," she repeated. "For two
years, when I was training to be a dental assistant, I made
money by working at this club in town. It helped pay my
tuition costs and gave me a ton of money to play with. I
only worked three nights and took home $1,500 per week."
Devon gulped her throat and added, "You don't look down
on me for this... do you, Jeremy? I never told you about
it. I never told anyone about it. I... I had such a
terrible time at that strip club, but the money was good
and it beat working in the pizza parlor."
"I would never look down on you for anything," I told
her, my voice very calm and sincere. "You and your friends
experimented one time with drugs in high school and you lost
Allison as a result. You were arrested because of it. From
what I saw yesterday, you were quite popular and outgoing
back then. You were the wild head cheerleader who was into
everything. Now... I learn, you were also a stripper."
"I would never look down on you, though," I reiterated.
"No matter what you've done in your past, Devon, you are
still my wife. You're very different and much more grown
up now. You are much more reserved and settled down now.
You're my princess... and you will ALWAYS be my princess. I
love you. I love you more than anything."
"I should have told you this long ago but I never felt
the need," Devon pouted. "Well, I did feel the need. But I
didn't want to tell you. I like you looking at me as this
sweet and innocent girl, Jeremy. I... I thought that may
change if I told you that I was once a stripper."
"You're still sweet and innocent," I assured her. "I
have nothing against strippers. The money is great. I
understand why young women want to get into the business.
It beats flipping burgers for five bucks an hour, or as
you said, serving pizza. I have nothing against it. You
don't have to defend yourself or what you did to me."
"I love you so much," Devon quaked, wrapping her arms
around me and squeezing tightly. "People... people have
these images of the common stripper. Strippers are nasty
and horrible people... the dregs of society. Strippers
have no feelings or conscious. All we want to do is get
money to support our drug habits and loser boyfriends.
That is what everyone thinks of the common stripper."
"I wasn't that way, Jeremy. I swear to you. I worked
there because of the money. Nothing else. Plus I only
had to work three nights a week - from seven until four
o'clock in the morning. I had a lot of time to study
and concentrate on my dental assistant classes. I... I
couldn't have afforded to pay my tuition if I worked
anyplace else. My parents refused to help me out with it."
"Is this why your mom called you a trollop? I suppose
they found out about you working there?"
"Worse," Devon frowned. "Much worse. One night, my
father went in there with a bunch of his friends and saw
me dancing up on the stage."
"Oh my..."
Devon shook her head. "He went home right away and told
mom about it. I was a whore in their eyes. They were mad
enough at me because of what happened two years earlier in
high school. They never forgave me for that. Now they were
outraged. I was a low-class, worthless whore to them."
"When, in reality, you were a sweet and loving princess
stuck in a bad job," I pouted. "What happened afterwards?"
She shrugged her shoulders and answered, "I kept working
there until I had received enough training to become a
dental assistant. I told mom and dad the reason I worked
there was to pay for my tuition. I was not one of those
strippers they saw on television talk shows. I did not
sleep around with every customer who tipped me. I was just
your normal 19 or 20-year-old girl. I wasn't good. I
wasn't bad. I was a normal girl working in an un-normal
place. But my parents didn't believe me. They... they
accused me of being on drugs again, although all I ever did
was one take one little Ecstasy pill in high school. I told
them that over and over, b-but they wouldn't b-believe me..."
"I believe you," I told her, my tone gentle. "You're the
sweetest, most kind... most loving woman I have ever met. No
matter what you do in the future, Devon, or what you did in
the past... I will never look at you any other way. My
perception of you will always be the same. A princess..."
"Th-Thank you..." my wife quaked.
"I know the popular perception of exotic dancers," I went
on. "They are all worthless and low-class. But it's wrong.
There are worthless and low-class girls, and guys, at every
job. In every single walk of life. Just because you are a
stripper does not make you a terrible person. Pamela was
always proof of that for me. Now you are too, Devon."
"Pamela..." Devon fretted. "I know what it's like to be
in her shoes. To be treated like an object. To be treated
with no respect at all. Guys go into those clubs each night
thinking they have the right to treat us girls like dirt.
And all we can do is smile and bat our eyes at them... or
else, we'll be fired. That's the way it is."
"I want Pamela to be happy," Devon continued. "I have no
idea how she lasted this long - eight years - as a stripper.
Pamela loves you, Jeremy. She loves you with all of her
heart. You're the first and only person in her entire life
who treated her with an ounce of respect. Pamela has become
so jaded and weary of everyone over the past eight years
that you - us - are probably her only chance at happiness.
I know that she said she wants you for herself last time.
But maybe we can change her mind. We can try."
"There is no harm in trying," I agreed.
"Before I fell in love with Krissy, I was in love with
Pamela," Devon offered. "I still am. I don't mean this in
a negative way, but I always felt so sorry for Pamela. All
she ever wanted in life was for someone to truly care about
her. I know the feeling. I wanted it, too. She found that
in you, Jeremy. Me too. But she didn't want to share."
"If Pamela gave us the chance, though, we could make her
happy," Devon added. "I know we could."
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"Oh my God..." Devon breathed. "Pamela is here! Get it!"
* * *
Instead of Pamela, I was greeted by the sight of a large
and incredibly hulking young man when opening the door. He
immediately introduced himself as Pamela's escort for the
evening (or club-hired bodyguard, to be more precise) and
went over a standard list of rules and regulations which
Devon and I both had to follow when interacting with Pamela.
We could not touch or harass her, or else the man would
find the need to interject himself. But he said, all in a
very professional manner I may add, that as long as played
by the rules, Devon and I would not even notice his presence.
Pamela would keep our undivided attention.
The bodyguard, as you may imagine, threw a monkey wrench
into our plans for the evening. How could Devon and I be
open and honest with Pamela while this man was also here? I
don't care if we noticed his presence or not.
After agreeing to his conditions - we had no choice - the
man glanced back out in the hallway and nodded his head. A
moment later, Pamela came waltzing into the hotel room and I
nearly had a heart attack at the mere sight of her.
Simply put, Pamela looked marvelous. She reminded me of
everything that an exotic dancer should look like, wearing a
black mini-dress which featured a short-skirt and a plunging
neckline, along with halter-like straps. To compliment the
snug-fitting dress, Pamela also wore dark, sheer stockings
and expensive black pumps which featured 5- or 6-inch heels.
The mini-dress hugged Pamela's considerable curves, truly
showing off the outline of her full, firm breasts, as well
as her rounded hips. The dress was tight and slinky, and fit
her body like a glove. Close inspection revealed that the
27-year-old was not wearing a bra. Her nipples were hard
and erect, protruding against the fabric. Pamela's flowing
blonde hair contrasted perfectly with the sexy black dress.
Her figure appeared breathtaking in the saucy, little outfit.
In short, Pamela looked even more beautiful and ravishing
than the way I remembered her - if you can believe that.
Holding her coat, as well as a duffel bag, Pamela kept
her gaze lowered once she first entered the hotel room.
When she looked up, however, the glittering, friendly smile
upon her face was quickly replaced with a look of shock.
"What are YOU TWO doing here?" Pamela asked, her gaze
focused upon Devon and yours truly. She had since dropped
her coat and bag, and turned pale.
With the bodyguard still present, I was limited in what I
could say to her. "We just wanted to come see you."
"Hi Pam," Devon smiled, waving a hesitant hand at her.
"Do you know these people?" the bodyguard asked Pamela.
"Is everything okay? Do you want to call this off?"
Pamela took a deep breath and her whole body sagged. "It
is okay, Jason," she said to him. "I... these... these are
some old friends." Pamela looked my way and spoke in a
spiteful tone, "Friends I thought I would NEVER see again..."
"We'd love to talk to you, Pamela," I nodded. "But it is
gonna be sort of hard to do that..." I glanced over at the
man - Jason - then back at Pamela, and shrugged my shoulders.
"Why don't you run along?" Pamela said to the man, taking
another deep breath. "It's okay, Jason. They are friends
of mine. You have nothing to worry about. I'll be safe."
"You know I can't do that," he said, shaking his head.
"I have to stay with you until your performance is over."
Pamela glanced my way again. "I don't think there is
going to be a performance." She then focused her gaze upon
the escort. "Please. It's okay. I know that you're not
supposed to leave, but it's okay. I won't tell anyone at
the club. Neither will Jeremy or Devon here. I promise."
I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out five $100
bills, and handed them to the man. He sifted through the
cash, then looked at everyone in the suite several times
before finally settling on Pamela. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," she told him. "I'll be safe. I'll call you
a bit later. I promise."
"Well... okay," he said, though he still seemed very
reluctant. "I don't want to leave. I'll wait out in the
car for you. You need anything... just beep me. I'll be
up here in a matter of seconds."
Pamela seemed very nice and cordial in getting rid of her
bodyguard so Devon and I could have some privacy with her.
I was thinking it was a precursor of the events that would
soon follow. Devon and I wanted a peaceful and relaxing
evening where we could simply talk with Pamela.
However, once Jason excused himself from our suite, the
look in Pamela's eyes - and her demeanor - quickly changed.
"What are you two doing here?" she snapped, angry.
"Again... we just wanted to talk to you," Devon answered.
"We were kind of in the area and stopped by."
"Kind of in the area?" Pamela huffed, treating Devon's
comment like a fake line. She seemed offended by it, too.
"You live thousands of miles away!"
"My grandmother passed away on Sunday night," I offered,
and that seemed to lessen Pamela's anger ten-fold. "Devon
and I went to Ohio to be at the funeral. We then went to
visit Devon's own family in Pennsylvania. We thought, since
we were relatively close, that we would stop here before
returning home to the island. That's all."
"And hire me as your stripper for the evening?" she
countered, still somewhat angry. "I should have known
something was up when you refused to talk to me over the
telephone! No customer has ever done that before!"
"You don't have to strip," I told her. "We don't want
you to strip. We just want to talk."
"Talk me into going back to that island with you?" she
asked, still on the defensive. "Won't happen! NEVER! I
may love you, Jeremy - and I still do - but I am NOT going
to spend the rest of my life as one little piece in a
constant orgy. I have higher standards than that!"
"Higher standards?" Devon exclaimed, now upset herself.
"What do you mean by... HIGHER STANDARDS? I have a husband
who loves me with all of his heart. I have a wife who loves
me with all of her heart. You think our life is a porno
flick or something?" She latched onto my arm. "I love this
man! I love ALL of him! Our relationship is built on love
and affection... not lust. Don't insult us like that, Pam.
I don't appreciate you saying that about us!"
"Pamela... I'm worried about you," I sighed. "Candice,
your sister, talks to me a lot on the telephone. She says
she is worried about you too. You went from stripping
three nights per week to six. You're doing these private
parties now, too. Yet all you talk about, she tells me, is
how much you love me and wish that I was in your life."
"You're more than welcome to come and be in our life,"
Devon remarked. "But that is just it, Pam - OUR life. Not
Jeremy's life, but OUR life. Me, Jeremy, Krissy and Amy."
"You're married to AMY now too?" Pamela exclaimed.
"Not yet... but maybe soon," Devon replied.
"I just don't understand, Pamela," I told her. "You love
me and I love you. We want to be together. We should be
together." I shrugged my shoulders. "Let's be together."
"First off... what I do with my life is MY business," she
sniped in response. "If I want to work 365 days per year, I
will work 365 days per year. It's my prerogative. And I do
want you in my life, Jeremy. But not in the way you offer.
I want you to be my husband. And I want to be your ONLY
wife. AND... not even that, but your ONLY girlfriend, too."
"Why do you have to be so greedy and selfish?" Devon
asked. "An open relationship like ours is wonderful. I
think it allows more freedom and self-expression. I even
think it allows us to be totally open and honest with each
other. Most regular marriages are not like that. People
are always hiding and keeping secrets. I kept one thing
from Jeremy but told him about it today. There is not one
thing about me that Jeremy is not aware of right now."
"Or vice versa," I chimed in.
"Marriages are not supposed to be that way," Pamela said.
"Marriages are supposed to be one-on-one."
"Who says so?" Devon asked. "A law? THE law? Well, it
may be that way in the United States. But polygamy is legal
in over HALF the world. In Norway - where Kristanna was
born and raised - it is legal. No one says a marriage is
supposed to be this way or that way there, you know."
"Then move there!" Pamela quipped.
"Actually, we are..." Devon countered.
"Look, Pamela," I breathed. "Devon and I did not come
here tonight to argue or banter back-and-forth with you about
what is right and what is wrong. We came here tonight for
one reason, and one reason ONLY. We care about you. We
love you. That is the only reason we are here tonight."
"Now... what is the one thing you want more than anything
else in life, Pamela? What is the one thing you have always
dreamed about having? True, unconditional love. Total love.
Knock-down, drag-out, break-down-the-walls type of love.
You want to be loved for the person that is inside you. Not
because of the way you look, or because you can dance and
gyrate like no ones' business when music starts playing.
You want to be loved for the person that is inside of you."
"I can do that, Pamela. I DO love you. I love you for
WHO you are... not WHAT you are. This is my second time
here in Maryland within the past four or five weeks. Both
times, my only reason for coming here was because of you.
I don't come here to have sex with you, or give you a list
of false promises. I come here because I love you, and
want to be with you. If not, I would have never even
stepped foot in Maryland. I... I don't like it here."
"What can I give you, Pamela? I can give you all the
love and compassion that you could ever handle. No one -
and I mean NO ONE - will ever love you the same way I do.
No one. It would be impossible. Or more than I do. I
would treat you the same, exact way I treat Devon and
Kristanna. You would be a princess to me. I would do
whatever it took to make you happy. Whatever it took."
I paused for a brief moment and then added, "What CAN'T
I give to you? What CAN'T I provide you with? I cannot
give you a one-on-one relationship. That is it. That is
the only thing I cannot give to you."
"But think about it, dear. Think about it. Say if we
had a typical one-on-one relationship... I wouldn't love
you anymore than I do now. My heart would not ache anymore
than it already does if we were not together. There isn't a
single day that goes by when I don't think or worry about
you, Pamela." I held up my hand and pointed toward the ring
Pamela had given to me last year. "I love you. This ring
is a constant reminder of you for me, and how I feel. I
could make you so happy if you just give me the chance.
But Devon, Kristanna AND Amy have to be included, too."
"We're not asking you to marry us or even commit to us,"
Devon commented, her tone gentle and squealy. "We just want
you to come back to the island and try this out for awhile.
Open your mind, Pamela. Try it out. Me, Jeremy and Krissy
have so much fun together. We love each other so much."
"Amy is breaking into our group now, and is happier than
she ever has been before," Devon continued. "I know her
main interest is Jeremy. She has loved Jeremy the same way
you have - since all of us first came to the island last
year. I don't have a problem with Amy's focus being Jeremy.
Neither does Kristanna. I have my favorite in our marriage
and I'm sure Kristanna does, too. It's okay simply because
even though Jeremy may be first in her life, Amy is getting
to know both me and Kristanna more and more. And she is
falling in love with us, too. And vice versa."
"I can't lay it out to you any simpler than this," I said
to Pamela. "Come home with us, dear. Let me love you. Let
me treat you the way that you DESERVE to be treated. Let me
put a smile on your face, and make sure it stays there EVERY
SINGLE DAY from now until the end of eternity."
"At the very least, give it a chance. Please. Devon and
Kristanna would treat you so well. Amy was your room-mate
last year and you got along great with her. Just a chance.
Please. I want the opportunity to make you happy. Please!"
"You're so depressed and unhappy, Pamela," Devon frowned.
"We don't know what depressed or unhappy means in our lives."
She paused and added, "I never said this to you, but I love
you, too. I have loved you since last year, Pamela. I know
how you feel. What you think. I felt the same way for
years. I know how lonely you are. Jeremy is right. Just
give us a chance. Open your mind. I never dreamed of
having both a husband and a wife. Two wives, perhaps. Or
maybe even three? I never thought about it. But you know
what? I am so happy. I want you to be happy, too."
"We could make you happy, Pamela," I reiterated.
"You make it sound all so nice and wonderful," Pamela
offered, her body shivering as she curled both arms across
her chest. "But... but I just... I just don't know."
"What is there not to know?" I asked.
"What?" Pamela retorted, her nerves wavering. "Because I
still can't get past the thought that I would only be able to
spend one-fourth the time that a normal wife does with her
husband. One-on-one time, I mean. It doesn't seem right!"
"That is the one thing I cannot give you... yes," I told
her. "But I could give you everything else that you have
ever dreamed of having in your life. And so much more..."
"Oh God..." Pamela shrieked, suddenly losing control of
her emotions. "Oh, I want to... I want to! But... but..."
Before I knew what was happening next, I encircled Pamela
with both arms and pressed my lips to her hers for a very
deep, tongue-filled kiss. The sudden amount of pleasure was
overwhelming - to say the least - but then I finally realized
what I had just done. Thus, my good sense took over.
"I'm sorry, Pamela..." I huffed, breaking our kiss and
pushing myself away from her. "Oh God... I can't believe I
just did that!" Frantic, my body trembled. "I'm sorry!
I... I should have never forced myself on you like that!"
Still trembling, I felt ashamed of myself. I had never
imposed myself on another woman like that before unless I
was certain that she was a willing participant. I did not
know what had come over me. How could I have done that? I
deserved to be slapped across the face for my behavior...
However, once I focused my attention on Pamela to gauge
her reaction, it was very obvious that she felt differently
than me. There was a wild, nearly animalistic glint in
those enchanting eyes of hers. Pamela looked like a hungry
tiger ready to attack. And, by God, I was her prey...
* * *
With that wild glare still in her eyes, Pamela grabbed me
by the shoulders and pushed me back into the nearest wall.
She thrusted her pelvis against me and smashed her mouth to
mine, offering me the single most intensive, blazing kiss I
had ever been privileged of receiving in my entire life.
Before the realization that she had attacked me in such a
manner fully set in, Pamela cruelly dug her right hand into
my slacks and yanked my cock out. She immediately gripped
and squeezed my erection with a strength and power that I
did not know any woman even had. All the while, Pamela
continued to assault and ravage my mouth with her lips and
tongue. She was completely insatiable, her lust unequaled.
The 27-year-old quickly traded positions with me. With
her hand still frigging my shaft, Pamela now found herself
backed up against the wall as she continued to kiss me.
Soon, she wrapped one of those long, heavenly legs around
my waist and secured it there. An instant later, Pamela
curled her other leg around my waist as well. With her
pretty, high-heeled feet tangled together somewhere up off
the floor behind me, and her upper back squished hard upon
the wall as I pinned her there, it was obvious what Pamela
wanted. And I was more than happy to give it to her...
I used both hands to yank the hem of her tight, slinky
mini-dress upward. Because she had come here tonight
expecting to put on a stripping performance, Pamela was
not wearing any panties underneath the dress. That worked
to my advantage because now, I did not have to worry about
disposing of them. We were ready.
I growled like a madman as I drove my cock hard and fast
into Pamela's lush, exquisite pussy. She hugged and clutched
my shoulders with all of her might as we began to quickly
bounce and writhe together, with the wall as our point of
leverage. She even squeezed her legs and thighs tighter
around my waistline, causing me brief shortness of breath.
It did not matter, however. My hands were on Pamela's
round, luscious ass, groping and mauling its wondrous flesh
as I thrusted my shaft into her pussy against the wall.
We were going a million miles per hour. Pamela and I
wanted to hammer and pound each other to absolute shreds.
This hot, blazing encounter was undisputed proof of it.
For a short stretch of time, Pamela was all that mattered
to me. Even Devon, who was my unquestioned princess and
true centerpiece in life, did not exist for that brief time.
My entire universe and focus was now centered upon Pamela -
and how I could violate her intoxicating body even further.
I wanted to lose myself in her, and never find my way out.
Of course, that takes nothing away from Devon when I say
that. I simply lost sight of her for a couple of seconds,
but I had a damn good reason for doing so. I was reunited
with Pamela - even if it was just temporary. Pamela and I
should have never been apart in the first place. She should
have married me the same day that Kristanna did last year...
Because we had been so forceful and relentless with each
other, our romp against the wall lasted no more than a
minute. Pamela and I both screamed out in mutual ecstasy as
my cock erupted within the confines of her tender, sweet
pussy, filling it with a heavy dose of man-seed. At the
same time, Pamela experienced a massive orgasm of her own.
Having abstained since originally leaving the island last
August, this was her first time having sex in six months...
* * *
In the aftermath, Pamela kept her legs secure and tight
around my waist even as my wilted cock slipped out of her
pussy. We embraced one another and shared deep, needful
kisses, our curious tongues shifting into erotic overdrive.
"Please come home with us, Pamela," I pleaded with her
inbetween kisses, my breathing short and ragged. "Oh God...
I love you so much! Please let us make you happy!"
"I... OHHHHH... I don't know!" Pamela fretted, obviously
teetering on the edge of whether to stay or go. She did,
however, manage to sneak in two more heated kisses. "I... I
just don't know! I DON'T KNOW!"
<<<- End of Part 27 ->>>
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