Island Cultural Center

by Marilyn Foxworthy

She stepped closer and stood where she could take hold of my penis and start to stroke it.

  She said, “But Master, you are so big. How can I? You would fill me past my size. I’ve never had anything larger than a finger there. And Babe, until last night, I think that was the truth. Anyway, Master, you will need to be tender with me. I have heard you with the Mistress and she screams most deliciously, and it makes me shudder in my own body as I listen outside your door with my bloomers down and my fingers where perhaps they shouldn’t be, but if you take me as a lover, what will happen to me? What about my family and my father and brothers? I will be ruined.”

  I said, “Brenda, you are a woman, not a schoolgirl. And I am the lord of the manor here and if you want me, I will protect you from all evil, shame and violence. You know that I will. Do what makes all of us happy, but yourself most of all.”

  She said quickly, “I will Master. I will.”

  Brenda threw her leg across my body and sat herself down to where her slit hit the head of my cock. She wiggled me there for a moment and then I reached between us and used my fingers to spread her labia. Going a little lower onto my lap, I entered her.

  When she had me just past the head, she stopped and breathed.

  She said, “Ronny, you do feel good. Last night I was so horny that it didn’t matter what you did, and while the role-play got me ready, I do need a moment. Seriously, you are bigger than my ex-husband. I know, you aren’t huge, but you are manly and it is stretching me. Babe, I’m glad to hear that you aren’t yearning for other entries. What I said about tickling me though, I think that after what I felt in the ocean last night, that might be a thing. The tickling. I’m being as honest as I can be. Oh Babe, slow, slow, slow. Ah! That’s it,” and she settled all the way into my lap.

  This is what I’d been looking for. With Brenda on my lap, it put her breasts just a little below my mouth and I could easily bend down and suckle them when I thought that it was time. And my hands had easy access. I let her ride me, encouraging her to churn on my groin, exploring what felt good to her now that she was more in control of her movements. But it wasn’t long until I slid my hands up her sides and to the undersides of her breasts. Hefting them in my hands, I fondled her tenderly. We were going slow for the moment. She was searching for what felt good. I was helping her.

  Our sexual encounters up to this point all had specific purposes if I thought about it. Having her on me like this felt amazing, but my brain was still clear enough for some amount of thought. And right now I needed to think about how to do this best. Yesterday had been about determining that Brenda could enjoy sex and become aroused by me. That was a critical factor. I needed, we both needed, that aspect to work. And it worked fine. Last night had been about relieving the sexual pressure that all three of us had built up over the course of the day. It was also about sealing our commitment by receiving each other intimately via intercourse, merging our bodies and fluids. Right now was about Brenda starting to focus on her own needs and desires for pleasure. And it was my goal to help her. I was going to do that by giving her time and space and emotional support to experiment and find out what she liked.

  I tenderly caressed her breasts, going softly, being sensitive to her movements and breathing and the sounds that she made. I just couldn’t get over her breasts. They filled my hands so beautifully. And the shape was enthralling. I could swear that I’d seen these boobs somewhere before. In a photo. And maybe even in this very negligee. The hair color was different, but there was something so familiar about this.

  I felt her, massaging her and circling her in different ways as I said, “Brenda, I love you. That feels wonderful. You are so warm and wet and luscious. I love what you are doing. Beloved, focus on what feels good to you. It all feels amazing and I’m only holding back in order to prolong our lovemaking for as long as I can. I find you so alluring and beautiful. Your hips are so perfect, and my goodness, your breasts are more lovely to me than any I have ever imagined. Is what I’m doing OK?”

  I was saying all of it to encourage her and help her focus on herself, creating as safe and comfortable of an environment as I could for her.

  She breathed, “Oh yes. It feels amazing. Yes, I love it, the way that you are touching me. Roland, your penis, I…it feels good. Really good. Really good. Oh, it feels so good.”

  I said, “I’m so glad. Feel it the way that feels best to you.”

  She said, “Oh, yes. It feels so good. So hard and so big and so right. Roland, did I have an orgasm? I think I did. I did yesterday and last night. Oh Baby, do that some more. You can do it harder.”

  I was sure that doing it harder meant the way that I was tending to her breasts since I wasn’t really doing anything else at all. I lifted the hem of her nightie and pulled it up over her chest where it would sit on the shelf of those very familiar-looking torpedoes. Taking them in my hands again, when I circled the areola with my thumbs now it was more firmly, and when my palms brushed her nipples, it was more like truly fondling them than breathing on them. Brenda responded by groaning and pushing herself toward me, rocking her pelvis to rub her clitoris against my pubic hair.

  She must have discovered that she liked that. In the next moment, she was rocking back and forth more and more vigorously.

  Suddenly, she moaned, “Oh Roland, suck on my tits! That’s so good.”

  Bending to her breast, I took her right breast in my mouth and kneaded her left with my hand. She immediately started bouncing on my lap, hardly moving up and down but driving my cock hard into her depths and she started to climax loudly. Brenda shuddered violently, her hands on my shoulders to steady herself until after several violent episodes, she collapsed against my chest, panting.

  Chapter 11 - Introductions

  When Brenda’s second or third orgasm started, my own spasm started and I filled her happily.

  She started to rise after a moment, but I held her where she was and she relaxed against my body again. And a few aftershocks rocked both of us over the next minute or two. Where had I seen these breasts before? It was going to bother me.

  Finally, Brenda pulled herself away and excused herself to go to the bathroom. When she did, I rushed to grab my phone and search the Internet for a clue to my compelling mystery. It was solved in a few seconds. It was Cynthia Myers!

  Cynthia Myers was a magazine centerfold from 1968. She was born in 1950 and died in 2011. She was what, 14 years older than Brenda? Of course, she was only 18 when her first photos were published, but again, she looked much older by today’s standards, at least to me. But this was absolutely the picture that I was remembering. That was Brenda’s breasts! She wasn’t exactly the same size as Brenda, but she definitely had Brenda’s boobs. I was glad to have that mystery solved.

  When Brenda returned, she looked radiant. Happy.

  She bounced onto my lap and said, “Well Mr. Jackson. The maid will be coming soon and we could go out for a while if you’d like. Shall we go to the pool for some sunshine and drinks?”

  I smiled and said, “If you’d like. Do you have any meetings with your ladies this afternoon?”

  She said, “No, not today. I told my friend Lisa that perhaps we’d get together later. She works, you know. A job. She’s a shop-girl or some such thing. You should marry her and let her quit her job. It must be hard for a girl without a perfect husband.”

  I said, “Marry her? What are talking about, you pretty basket of fruit?”

  Brenda said, “What do you mean? Marry who? Who’s getting married?”

  I said, “You just said that I should marry your little friend Miss Pretty-Tits because you felt sorry for her because she has to work.”

  Brenda grinned and said, “I said no such thing, you terrible teaser. The very idea! Being married to two women at the same time! My goodness. How could a thing like that even work? Oh well, it’s not really for me to figure it out. I’m sure that you’ll think of a way. But what about going to the pool? How scandalous shall I be? Shall I wear on
e of the new two-piece affairs that they call a bikini? Just for you, my handsome husband? I would. Of course, the country club will be atwitter about it, but why not? The old biddies need to be shaken up a touch, don’t you agree?”

  Then she said, “OK. You are a terrible rogue, suggesting that I dress like that, with hardly a stitch between me and the world, and at my age to boot. My mother warned me that it would come to this if I took up with you and she was right. She was a prudish woman and didn’t know what she was missing by bottling up her femininity the way that she did. Well, not me! You have opened my eyes and my body is my own and I want to feel the sunshine on it. Give me a moment and I’ll dress. And yes, I’ll come dress in front of you. I say! The things you and I do in private! Letting my husband see me all in the natural state and sleeping in the same bed and wearing the most invisible of garments and pretending that it is perfectly proper.”

  She pulled her nightgown off and draped it over her shoulder and said, “My Dear, someday you will move me to a tropical island and make me a naked savage for yourself. I know that you will and what can I do about it?”

  I smiled and grabbed one of her breasts and said, “I will. Here’s no doubt about that. But what about Miss Pretty-Tits?”

  Brenda said, “I know that she will be hidden in your luggage during the voyage and there’s nothing for me to do about it. And when we arrive in our naked native hut, it will be the same as all the other savages and their bare-bodied women, five to a hut with a man, and what’s to be done about it? We won’t civilize them, so we will have to live as they do. It won’t be so bad for you. You might balk at first, but she is very pretty in a shop-girl kind of way, and once you get her out of her clothes, you will find her to be a tiger in bed, I’m sure of it. One can hope so, anyway.”

  I said, “Brenda, you are more fun than I could have imagined. Do you really want to go to the pool?”

  She said, “I don’t have much choice, do I? At least at the pool, you have to let me wear some clothing. I’ll be right back.”

  Brenda left the room and returned a minute later. First she insisted on dressing me in my trunks and a shirt, and then she dressed herself. The bathing suit that she wore was a beautiful black bikini without straps. I didn’t know how it could possibly stay on her, but she assured me that it did. She used the island warp that she and Lisa had bought the day before as a cover-up around her hips and we were ready to go.

  As we settled into lounge chairs next to the pool a few minutes later, Brenda asked to borrow my phone and she called Lisa to let her know what we were doing.

  When she hung up, she said, “Lisa said to stay here. That she is coming right over. She sounded like she was going to hurry.”

  Handing the phone back to me, I noticed that I had a text message waiting for me. I hadn’t paid attention to my phone for a day and a half, but this was from a contact that was a reason to take a closer look.

  The message said simply, “You have an introduction to Member Tom Jensen on Kauai if you care to pursue it. The Afra.”

  The Afra was the dinner club that I belonged to. That was interesting. I’d never gotten a message like this before. I was somewhat surprised that I had gotten one now. The Afra was incredibly discreet. Almost secretive. I had given permission to receive introductions to other members at the discretion of the club, but this was the first time it had happened. I understood that a name was all I would receive. If I wanted to meet this man, I’d need to find him. Or he would find me.

  A few minutes later, Lisa rushed up to us. As she did, a waitress, at least I assumed that she was a waitress at first, approached. I started to thank her and wave her off and tell her to come back in a few minutes, but she stood where she was.

  She said, “Mr. Jackson?”

  I said, “Yes?”

  She said, “If you will follow me, Sir. I was told to say that I was to take you and introduce you to one of the resort VIPs. If you choose to accept.”

  I said, “OK,” and stood up, telling the girls that I would be back soon.

  The girl said, “Sir, I was told that the ladies should accompany you. There is a prize package or something.”

  I shrugged and held out my hands to help the ladies from their chairs. I had the waitress, or whatever she was, lead us to our appointment.

  A prize package? That made sense. Except that it didn’t at all. If this had something to do with the Afra, I’d have no reason to be suspicious, so we’d see what was happening soon enough.

  We were taken across the sidewalk to the beach. There on the grass was a small table and six chairs. Three of them were filled already by a man and two women. The table was cordoned off with standards and ropes that kept everyone else at least 20 feet from the table. There was a small opening in the ropes to let us pass. What was this about?

  As we approached, the man and the two women stood up, smiling warmly, and waited for us.

  The man stepped forward and said, “Hello. I’m Tom Jensen.”

  I shook his hand and said, “Roland Jackson.”

  Tom said, “Before we sit down, let me tell you part of why we are here. Roland, my brother owns the resort here. Lisa works for one of his businesses. When she gave notice this morning, I was sent to see what it would take to get her to stay, if we could. She is one of our best managers, and even though she and I haven’t met until just now, we do want to thank her for her years of service, no matter what her final decision is. These two beautiful women are my wives. What we’d like to do first is offer to take your wives, Lisa and Brenda, and have them go for spa treatments and maybe some shopping here at the property, all paid for by us, of course.”

  One of the other women said, “Girls, you’ll love it. Pedicures, massages, facials, laser treatments, tanning, the works. We’d be gone about four to six hours. We won’t be leaving the property. Lisa, you won’t have to go back to work this afternoon.”

  The other woman said, “And we know that you have a few nice outfits already, but we have heard that Lisa is a wizard and we’d like to see what magic she might do for the two of us. Of course, whatever you want will be complimentary. Our husband insists that you all be treated as special guests and even family. We don’t tell people about the special nature of our family relationships lightly. If we don’t have time for everything this afternoon before dinner, we will do the rest tomorrow.”

  The girls looked at each other and then at me and I shrugged and smiled.

  Brenda said, “That sounds wonderful. Bye, bye, Babe. See you at dinner it sounds like.”

  She kissed me and nudged Lisa until she did the same. At that, the four women walked away and I was left alone with my host.

  Tom smiled and said, “Roland, let’s sit down. Here, let’s watch the bay for a while. We have things to talk about.”

  We pulled chairs together and sat side by side. The waitress that had seated us came with drinks and snacks. It was exactly the things that I ordered most often when I was here.

  Tom said, “So, Roland Jackson. The Afra, huh? You don’t know who they really are, do you? No? Neither do I. And believe me, I have the resources to find out almost anything. But, in a way, we’re brothers, aren’t we? This is going to take awhile. Sacred conversations do, huh?

  OK, I’ll tell you everything I know. My brother Robby owns the resort. He owns the shops down the sidewalk. He owns Duke’s restaurant. I work for him on special projects. You are a special project. I’ll need you to fill in some of the blanks about why.

  This morning I get a message with the introduction. I’ve never had one before. Then Robby calls me and says that a game is afoot and that I have to go look into it. It’s about Lisa. Normally I don’t deal with things that seem that small, but if Robby gets involved, it’s important.

  The details involve Lisa giving notice. She says she’s getting married and moving away. Then she calls the property desk and says she wants to find a buyer for her condo. I’ll but the condo, by the way, if that’s what is decided. An
yway, something’s up. We like Lisa. We aren’t sure what we’ll do without her. But a quick check shows that yesterday, she checks into the resort. Into a suite. She uses her own name. Lisa Jackson. And the guy paying for the suite is Roland Jackson. The man I have an introduction to, from what we’ll call the Brotherhood, just to make it sound more mysterious. And there’s a third actor. A woman named Diane Jackson.

  That’s as weird as the situation with Lisa. You arrived on a plane by yourself. This Diane Jackson has been hanging around the resort without a reservation for several days. The staff noticed her, but the manager felt that she was harmless and we overlooked it. Like I said, I handle special projects and the manager wondered if Diane was the kind of thing that would become involved in a project.

  By special projects, I mean that we help people. Usually with community centers and hospitals, and rural clean water treatment and sanitation. Things like that. But now and then, if the situation seems right, it could get more personal. I might not look into myself, but I could let someone else see if we had an opportunity to change a life for the better.

  We know all about Diane’s divorce by this time, so we keep an eye on her and make sure she seems to be keeping safe and fed, at least while she seems to be trying to figure out her life. We’d have probably found a job for her in another day or two if she didn’t go back home on her own.

  But what’s going on? Lisa is getting married and it seems to be to a man who just took in an uncommonly elegant homeless woman and upgraded to our best suite so that they would all be comfortable.

  My first question for you is, do you need any help with whatever plan you have? I have the fact that you are from the Brotherhood, so I won’t suspect your motives, means, or character in the least. But do you need any help?

  I said, “Wow. No, I don’t think that I do.”

  Tom said, “And you are marrying both of them?”

  I said, “Yeah.”

  He said, “Cool. Lisa deserves a good man. She must think that she’s found what she’s looking for. I have no doubts about her abilities to make good decisions. Finding you, a Brother, is the best thing that could happen for her. Tell me what you’ve done so far. I still think that I can help. Did you make vows between you? That’s what my family does.”