by Anita Kidesu
“Thank you, Jack. I think I’ll be less nervous on Saturday night now.”
He took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “If you agree.”
“Yes, when I agree,” she whispered, not realizing her change in words.
“Let’s go before we end up doing more,” Jack said smiling to himself at her words.
Emma followed him across the sand. “Would that be so bad?”
“Yes, it would.”
“Why did you say you wanted to take a nap?”
Jack shook his head. It was going to be a long and hard walk back as Emma peppered him with questions about men, women, and sex. Luckily for the three of them, they had an apt pupil on their hands.
Emma and Jack returned to the campsite as Toby and Steve returned from fishing. Not looking at any of them, she climbed the stairs to the plane, grabbed some food, water, blanket, and a towel. She shoved them into one of the backpacks.
“I’m going to the lake. Alone.” She looked at the men one by one. “Don’t anyone follow me. Understand?”
“Do you have your gun?” Jack asked.
“Yes. I’ll see you at supper,” she said, heading to the lake trail.
As she left the campsite, she heard Toby ask, “What’s up? What happened? Did you talk to her?”
“Yup.” Jack tried to wipe the grin from his face. “We’ll discuss it later,” he said, watching her swaying hips, his cock again saluting her backside.
Chapter Eleven
Emma trudged up the hill to the lake, her thoughts hopping around like a rabbit in a locked cage. Her marriage was fake. The man she thought was her husband tried to have her murdered. And then there was Jack’s proposition. Could she possibly have sex with three men? What would happen if she said no? Did she even want to say no?
Instinctively she knew none of the men would hurt her—not intentionally anyway. Obviously they wanted her. Jean Paul—no, Francois—never seemed to. Those zinging sensations she felt with Jack hadn’t raged through her body with Francois. What was it about them that made her body sizzle and pop?
She arrived at the top of the hill and walked across the field, her thoughts in no better order than when she left their campsite. A breeze created ripples on the lake. She sat down on the grass, watching two small songbirds flit back and forth between several trees before settling on a branch and pecking their beaks together. Even birds had sex.
The peacefulness of the area settled her nerves and cleared her mind. She needed this time alone and lay back, watching cloud formations move across the brilliant blue sky. Sex, three men, orgasms, fake marriage. So much to think about.
She sat up and gazed at the waterfall. At this angle, the sun hit the mist spraying off the waterfall, creating a multitude of rainbows. She moved closer for a better look. A dark area emerged behind the waterfall. A cave? After all the times they had been at the lake, how had she missed that? She got up and brushed off the seat of her shorts, walking closer to the upper ridge. A path veered to the right of the falls. Instead of going to the falls, she turned right, pulling out her gun.
The path wound around the base of the mountain. After a few minutes she came to a pool. Water dribbled down the side of the mountain into it. She glanced around. The pool was surrounded on three sides by the mountains, creating a protective wall. The exposed side faced the ocean. Emma wondered if it could be seen if she sat in the pond. She took off her shoes and tested the warm, almost hot water. She reached over and held her hand under the cool moisture coming down the side of the mountain and glanced at the sky. The sun heated the pool.
She worried her lip. Would she be safe? Oh, but to have a real bath. Their evening washings were basically swimming and a bar of soap. Dare she strip down and soak? She glanced around making sure none of the guys had followed. After checking out the animal tracks in the vicinity, she set her gun down at the pool’s edge, stripped off her shorts and pulled her tank top over her head.
She paused and closed her eyes, letting the warm breezes blow over her naked body. The air even tousled through her pubic hair. She didn’t understand why outside air should seem so different from inside air. She almost hated stepping into the pool, ending the sensation.
The clear water nearly covered the natural bench around the inner edges of the pool. Emma moved into the warm water until she reached the middle where the water came mid-thigh. She sat on the bottom. The water came to her chin. She sighed as the hot water eased the tension from her shoulders.
Emma tipped her head back to wet her hair. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for shampoo and conditioner and some bubble bath. After a few minutes, she got up and sat on the inside ledge. The water came to the middle of her breasts. She swished her arms back and forth, lapping the water across her nipples.
She leaned her head back on the outer edge and let the soothing water wash over her. Jack’s proposal jumped around in her head. What would it be like having them make love to her? Her nipples puckered. She eyed her breasts. Tits, Jack called them. To her they were simply breasts. She washed, strapped them in a bra, and forgot about them. Francois never set eyes on—let alone touched—them.
Oh, but the heated look in Jack’s eyes when she took off her top. Evidently some men had different ideas about women’s breasts. Would Toby and Steve be like Jack or like her husband? She hoped the former.
Emma placed the palm of her hands under each breast and lifted them. They weren’t big by any stretch of the imagination, but then again, she wasn’t flat, either. Her hands covered each one. She ran her palms over the rosy nipples and sucked in a breath as they tightened. She squeezed the tips. An electric charge zipped down to her crotch. Wow. If she made herself feel that way, what would a man, or better yet men, do?
She ran her hands down her torso until her fingers reached her mound. Jack said men like to kiss and suck a woman’s pussy. If a man pleasured himself, why not a woman?
With two fingers, she separated the folds and found a flap of skin in between. This time the shockwaves went down her legs, up to her breasts and down her torso again. She wriggled her fingers and with her free hand, squeezed a nipple. Her hips arched up out of the water at the sensation. She kept up the movements until she spun out of control. Like Jack, her breathing increased. Sparks of light flashed behind her eyes as nature took control, and her body screamed out her first orgasm.
After a few minutes she came back down to earth. Wow. If men’s orgasms were anything like that, no wonder they took care of themselves. She opened her eyes, expecting her surroundings to have changed. To her surprise, everything remained the same. The sun still shone, birds still sang. She closed her eyes again and thought about what happened. Jack said a woman could have two orgasms with a man. Imagine two each with three men.
Lucky for her, she genuinely liked them and their sexy bodies. She couldn’t imagine having sex with someone she didn’t like. Maybe that was why sex was bad with Francois. She really didn’t care for the man. Now she understood why.
She pictured Toby and his tall, blond, Nordic looks. His brilliant doctor’s mind. His seriousness when contemplating a problem. Would he analyze the act of love, or would he rush through as if in an emergency room?
Steve was taller than Toby, about the same size as Jack. Would all parts of him be the same size? Being the quietest of the three, would he sit back and observe before joining? Would he be too shy to participate? Jack said they all wanted her, so Steve probably would do his part.
Would Jack, the outspoken one, take charge? Sometimes he irritated her with his swearing and roughness. He also said they wouldn’t hurt her and seemed to like and respect her. Having already seen his cock in its full glory, she knew what he had to offer.
Were all men’s penises the same or different like their chests and legs? Jack’s chest was full of furry dark hair. Steve’s hair was dark but not as thick as Jack’s, with only a sprinkling running down the middle into his shorts. Would he have less around his cock, too? Toby’s blond ha
ir was nearly invisible on his legs until the sun shone on them. His chest was bare. Would his pubic hair be light, too? Probably. As a redhead, her pubic hair was red, actually redder than the hair on her head.
All these questions and the only way to get the answers was to agree. She had to admit, every time she thought about being with them her skin hummed and sang. Maybe it was telling her something, and she needed to listen and say yes. Now Francois’s letter freed her to explore her sexuality.
Thinking about the men’s needs, she also thought about hers. She needed to set up a plan to keep some kind of control and not be simply a plaything, available every time one of them felt the urge and crooked their finger at her. No, she needed to retain some independence. With her eyes closed she ran through several scenarios. Details had to be finalized before giving them her decision.
Activity always made her think better. Her wrinkled skin itched. Emma got out of the pool, air drying her body before getting dressed again. The sun reflected off her wedding ring. She stared at her finger.
What if she had married the real Jean Paul? Would she have liked him better than the fake one? Would she be mourning his death? She’d liked his parents. How will they feel when they found out he was dead? Of course, that wouldn’t happen unless they were rescued.
What if they weren’t rescued? What if Francois gets away with the murder of Jean Paul and the near murder of herself?
Her mind whirled with the ‘what ifs.’
“Dammit,” she whispered, closing her eyes, tears leaking at the corners.
Before she changed her mind, she yanked off the ring, swung her arm behind her head, and tossed the offending piece of jewelry into the jungle, hoping it would rot with the rest of the vegetation.
She bent over to pick up the backpack and saw the remains of cigars.
So this was where they went at night. “Why, those jerks,” she murmured, picking up a stub. She rolled it between her fingers and threw it back down, and then slung the bag over her shoulders. “They’re going to hear about this one.”
She retraced her steps to the waterfall and returned to the edge of the mountain where the falls rained down, searching for the dark area and found a walkway behind the water. Was this another one of the men’s secrets? The ledge seemed wide enough for a person to walk behind the water without clinging to the side of the mountain. Would her tennis shoes give her traction on the wet, rocky edge?
The roar from the deluge of water falling over the mountainside blocked out any noise from the surrounding jungle. In a matter of minutes her body was soaked from the cold spray. As she got to the middle of the falls, the hand she used to slide along the wall hit open air.
Carefully stepping around the edge, she came to a large opening. A cave. Her hands flew to her mouth in excitement. Too dark to see any farther than the end of her hands, she decided brains had the edge on valor and turned to rush back to camp.
Chapter Twelve
Jack shifted from one cheek to the other as the anti-skid grids on the plane’s steps dug into his ass. He glanced up from the broken radio he’d pulled from the cockpit when Emma, hair plastered to her face, raced down the trail. He grabbed his gun, expecting a boar or some unknown creature to be close behind her.
“You guys,” she panted, stopping in front of him and leaning her hands on her knees.
Toby and Steve ran over from the shower stall they were building from the tail of the plane.
“God, Emma. What happened?” Toby asked.
She looked up at them, took a deep breath, and smiled. “You’ll never believe what I found.” She grabbed Steve’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you!”
“Where?” Jack asked, setting his tools down.
“By the lake,” she answered. “Get some shoes on, grab a couple of flashlights, and follow me.”
Doing as she said, they grabbed their pistols and trailed behind her as she went back up the hill to the lake. No one said anything as she disappeared behind the falls.
Jack’s heart dropped to his stomach. “Emma, where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“C’mon, it’s safe,” she yelled, waving them toward her. “The path is at least four feet wide.” She looked over her shoulder at the men’s dubious faces. “Don’t tell me you guys are chicken.”
Toby and Steve walked toward her.
Jack peered down at the water hitting the lake. His lunch rose to the back of this throat and a cold sweat broke over his skin.
“What’s wrong?” Steve asked.
Jack closed his eyes and willed his stomach back into place. He hoped his face wasn’t as green as he felt.
“Holy shit, man. He’s going to blow,” Toby warned. “I think our illustrious pilot is fuckin’ scared of heights.”
Emma walked to Jack. “Take deep breaths through your nose. Concentrate on something else.”
“I’m not scared,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just not real fond of heights.”
Steve chuckled. “How the hell can a pilot be scared of heights? Maybe it wasn’t the storm that brought the plane down, but the pilot.”
Jack’s first reaction was to take a swing at Steve, but the thought of moving made his guts roll around like a canoe in a hurricane. “Shut the fuck up, Steve.”
Emma pressed him down to sit on the rock, pulled out a clean rag from her backpack and held it under the water. When she went to wipe off his clammy face, he grabbed the rag. “You don’t need to baby me. I’m scared of heights, not an invalid.”
Emma, Toby, and Steve joined Jack on the ground, giving him time to set his world aright.
“Steve has a good question, Jack,” Emma said. “How can a pilot be scared—”
Jack scowled.
“I mean, not like heights?” she asked.
He closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and rested it against the cool wall. “Damned if I know, but certain things set me off—standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down from a tall building, roller coasters. But for some reason, getting into a plane and flying doesn’t bother me at all.”
Toby shook his head. “Weird.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know. Can you imagine basic training when we had to practice parachuting? I can fly the damn things. I just can’t jump out of one.”
“Bet you took a lot of ribbing.” Toby chuckled.
Jack’s grin wobbled. “An understatement if there ever was one.”
“So how do we get you to the cave?” Emma asked.
Steve stood. “The ledge is only about fifteen feet long. Emma, you can show me while Jack decides what to do.”
After they left, Jack groaned and rested his head on his raised knees.
“You really scared of heights?” Toby asked.
“Shitless. Why the hell would someone want to upchuck his last meal?”
Toby scratched the back of his head as Emma and Steve disappeared. “Once you’re inside the cave, would you be all right?”
Jack nodded.
“How about if you keep your eyes closed and I guide you in? The path is quite wide. Would it work if we skim along the wall and you don’t look down?”
“I suppose.” Jack sighed. “Let’s get it over with before they come out and see you holding my hand like a two-year-old.”
“Who the hell said I was going to hold your hand?” Toby joked. “I planned on pulling you in by the scruff of your neck.”
They stood. Jack closed his eyes and grabbed Toby’s hand, positive his sweaty fingers would slip from Toby’s grip and send him over the edge, flying through the air into the water’s dark abyss. Saliva pooled in his mouth. His heart pounding in his ears reminded him of the drums of an acid-rock band.
About the time he thought he couldn’t stand the roaring darkness anymore, Toby gave his hand a tug and turned a corner.
“You can open your eyes now,” Toby said. “Not that you can see anything.”
“Where are Steve and Emma?”
Toby shrugged. “
Since they have both flashlights and you can’t see more than three feet into the place, we’re stuck until they come back.”
“Call them,” Jack said.
After a few yells, two beams of light sweeping back and forth like a broom became brighter until they finally came to them.
“That’s one helluva large cave,” Steve said, turning his flashlight beam back where it quickly disappeared in the cavernous room.
“And dark,” Emma added. “You can’t see more than a foot in front of you. There are so many rocks on the floor you have to the keep the light down so you don’t trip.”
Jack peered into the black interior, his queasiness subsiding now that his back was to the cliff. “We need some torches or something.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, we’ve been here for nearly a month already, and we haven’t seen one plane or boat. If we’re going to be here much longer, I’m afraid we’re going to be stuck during cyclone season.”
“You think this would be a good place to set up an emergency shelter?” Steve asked.
“Well, if we can get some type of lighting in here, it would work.”
“Considering it’s located behind the falls,” Steve said, “the cave seems dry.”
Toby nodded. “We’ll have to figure out the prevailing winds, which way a cyclone would come from, and decide how far back we’d need to go to be safe.” He crunched his neck into his shoulders. “By the way, you didn’t happen to come across any bats did you?” he asked.
“Let me guess,” Emma said, grinning. “You’re afraid of bats.”
Toby stared at his feet. “About as afraid of them as Jack is of heights.”
“Great,” Emma snorted. “Before we go any further, is there anything you’re afraid of, Steve?”
“Um. No. Unless we happen to come across headhunters or something.”
Jack turned to Emma, tapping his lip thoughtfully. “So, Emma-girl, what are you afraid of?”
The three men turned to her.
Emma couldn’t admit she was afraid of having sex with three men. One-by-one she smiled at each man. “I’m afraid, gentlemen, to find out what else you guys are afraid of. What would happen if a tribe of headhunters came and trapped us between them and the cliff, as a flock of bats flew out of the cave?” She strode out of the cave and walked down the path calling over her shoulder, “I don’t know how little ol’ me would protect the three of you.”
