Island Love

"Banana on toast and black coffee."

"What?"

"Banana on toast. It's a fetish."

Dora bit her lip and Roman grinned, knowing what that was about; she'd been tempted to ask what were his other fetishes. He wondered what hers were, if any. He thought of that evening when Sarah McIntyre had lost it in the restaurant and publicly attempted to shame him shouting he was addicted to the female vagina. People in the room heard him being shamed and either laughed or were hugely embarrassed. Because of Sarah's outburst his reputation expanded and particularly married women began pestering him.

"Well there is one other issue," Dora said, putting bread in the toaster. "You winning the gardener's cottage off my stepfather. Was that stupid poker game legitimate?"

"Yes."

"Oh I see; this medieval code extends into poker?"

"Friends don't cheat on one another and besides there were seven of us playing that night, all sharp-eyed enthusiasts. Anyway my win made your stepfather and me about even. Almost two years earlier he won my six-month old Porsche off me and on-sold it over in the city before I could assemble the money to buy it back."

"The jerk."

"Why, it was his property?"

Dora rolled her eyes and sighed, "God, you men."

Roman helped clear the table and expected Dora to give him the opening by saying, 'What do you want to do now?' He had a line for that and it rarely failed. But instead she said, "You can go now."

What the hell, he thought. He was used to women almost pleading for it. Who the hell did she think she was? Oh god, she must be gay."

He scampered, making no arrangement to see her again.

An hour later Rachel Mercer arrived at the cottage and they kissed. He said "Nice tits" and she pushed them into him. "Some of us are meeting at the Irish Pub for a quiet drink before the day trippers arrive to takeover the place. I heard you were over here but your phone was off."

"Okay let me finish this bit of painting and wash up. I'll be fifteen minutes tops."

"God, who's Venus up on the lawn illegally hosing?"

Roman looked up the hill and saw Dora waving at them.

"Oh that's Clyde Hamilton's new stepdaughter Dora Dixon."

"God what an unfashionable name."

"Yeah, on a par with Rachel Mercer, eh?"

"You bastard. Why aren't you up there sniffing around her?"

Roman said she seemed to be really cold.

"She may think you are gay... ohmigod, what a joke."

"God Roman, don't hit me. I'm sorry. You know I know you're definitely not gay."

"Well no one calls me gay."

"Right, perhaps she is?"

Roman let that go unanswered, brooding.

Roman was dumped home around 7:00, really under the weather. He vomited over the front door and went off to bed, without eating and without cleaning up. "I need a woman looking after me," he groaned, sinking on to the bed and wondering why his mouth tasted foul after only drinking beer (over a period of almost eight hours).

He awoke next morning, feeling everything was okay, moving but working a little slower than usual including his mind but with the mind that would be his headache.

"You pig, you pig; I said wake up!"

God it was that bitch up on the hill. He looked out the window and waved at her.

"You threw up over the door and porch."

"Oh, big night out," he said lamely. He saw she was carrying a tray so yelled, "I'll come down to you this way."

He climbed on to the windowsill only to hear her yell in panic, "For god's sake put some pants on."

He looked down to see his swinging cock and said. "Oopsie and fell back into the bedroom, felt uncomfortable, turned over and went back to sleep.

The next thing he knew the bitch had thrown a bucket of cold water over him.

"Get up you pig," she screamed. "I've swabbed down the porch and front door and now you. It's incomprehensible you having an erection in your condition. You go and shower. Our breakfast is on the table in the garden; it's cold now and that's your fault."

"You brought breakfast for us down here?"

"Well I'm lonely up there," she moaned, and alleged sulkily that he was ignoring her.

With both hands over his cock he struggled to his feet. She was now boggling at him.

"What?"

"Your body."

He groaned, "What's wrong now?"

She was almost stumbling over the words. "It's beautiful, perhaps the finest I've ever seen, even at art school where we had professional male models."

He rushed to the shower in panic.

Roman came to the table sheepishly appropriately dressed in baggy shorts and white tee. Dora smiled as she read the logo on one of his favourite tees: 'I'm A Naughty Boy'.

The meal was scrambled egg with mushrooms on the side, completely cold. He finished his, smacking his lips appreciatively while she finished, her lips appearing curdled.

"Good tucker."

"I'm glad you think so. The toast is like wood."

"Nah, I often eat cold toast," he said. "It makes the topping taste really great."

She giggled and pulled her top lower, revealing a lot more rounded flesh. "I'd like to do a real favour for me."

Roman thought she was asking him to, er, seduce her. But what if she were gay?

"I want you to allow me to paint a sea theme mural on the featureless wall at the end of your front hallway."

"Okay."

"In return for you allowing me to paint you nude."

"You mean you have no clothes on while you paint my face, er my portrait?"

For a moment she looked confused and then comprehended and spoke to him like a child. "No silly, I'll paint you dressed in loose-fitting top and pants that I do all my painting in – paint sometimes drips. You will be in the nude, absolutely bared."

Dora caught the panicked look. "You can hold just one hand over your privates."

"Um, what will you do with it?"

"If it turns out well I'll exhibit it and perhaps attract a buyer. If its no good I'll trash it."

"Oh that leaves me relieved!"

CHAPTER 2

Somehow it happened. After agreement on the mural/nude deal Dora said she'd like more water. Roman ran off to fetch another bottle and returned and placed an arm over her shoulder. She caught and imprisoned her hand, probably thinking he was out to grab a breast. That halted his momentum abruptly as he was moving to fill her glass. He swung around and fell on to her lap. As if it was perfectly natural she kissed him. She looked at his face and her blue eyes hooded. He knew he was as good as in.

But then Roman was panicking again.

"What?"

He said urgently, "What's the time?"

"Just after 11:00."

"Oh fuck. I'm supposed to be taking my godparents and their equally elderly guests to a vineyard lunch."

"No problem, there are several of them."

Roman explained it was the busy season. Ferry loads of people came over from Auckland just to lunch and imbibe at a winery.

"Take them to an ordinary restaurant."

"Can't... I told the visitors I'd take them to a vineyard."

"Then change it to tomorrow."

"No there will have other plans. I told them a winery."

"Oh sorry, the medieval code is involved here isn't it?"

He looked at her pitifully and said, "May I borrow your phone?""

"Hi Stephano, it's Roman. How are the kids?"

"Good, good. Can you do me a table for six for lunch at 1:00?"

"Oh no chance. Then what about if I bring my guitar? One of the guest is a brilliant singer but she's classical but will cope admirably if you run the Karaoke screen for her."

"We can have the family table? Oh great Stephano. Give me love to Lucia."

"No not that kind of love you dirty-minded old man. I respect you man, you and Lucia and the kids."

"My god. Rarely have I heard a more silvered tongue from a male than that."

"You should listen to your stepfather – I was his apprentice."

"I had been thinking of him. So are we right here: you did ask me would I sing did you not?"

"Oh Dora, sweetheart, it's your welfare I had at heart. Because we will sit at the family table we will be served Reserve quality wine and Sunday is the only day Stephano does his lamb on a spit with rosemary and other infusions. Stephano is a retired world-class chef."

"Oooh."

"Oh god, your SUV battery?"

"Relax you panic merchant. A guy came this morning and left me with an exchange battery, taking my one away."

"Oooh, you clever thing."

"I like it that you are appreciating me at last my lovely seducer."

"Eh?"

"Down boy, I'm off to clear away the breakfast things and have a bath. Kindly disinfect the area where you threw up last night you naughty boy."

They kissed and she was off, turning back twice to smile and wave at him because he was staring.

The Marks' and Greenfield's just loved Dora because she was so attentive and lovely to them. Stanley came close to spoiling it when he said, "Is Roman having a piece of you?"

Apart from the engine, the nosiest sound in the 7-seat vehicle was Roman's laboured breathing; he was driving.

"Not yet," Dora said sweetly. "He's been a naughty boy."

Roman couldn't believe it when neither woman said, "Oh, tell me more."

The other six couldn't believe the greeting Roman received at the winery restaurant. Lucia – Stefano's second and beloved wife - and her three unmarried sisters oozing sexiness kissed Roman, none of the sisters not holding back. Others in the party had to settle for kisses on both cheeks.

The imposing 6ft 6in Stefano met them inside the restaurant and tears flowing almost appeared to break Roman's back with heavy-handed slapping. As soon as Stefano saw Roman with a glass in his hand he picked up Roman's guitar case and said, "Follow me my friend. The atmosphere is down a little today. I need you to stir it along to make my guests buy more wine."

Dora began drinking wine, making the mistake of attempting to drink glass for glass with Stanley, Roman's godfather. After they ate she remembered going to the small stage and singing to Roman's accompaniment – a solid ninety minutes apparently but her memory about that became a little uncertain. She and Roman joined the others for a couple of more wines. She remembered kissing Eve and Stanley and the other two but she couldn't remember their names. She slept on the short drive to her home and the next thing she remembered was being horribly sick on to the tiles in the foyer of her stepfather's home. It was horrid and she felt ready to die.

Dora awoke late morning on the top of her bed, dressed only in bra and panties. Initially her head appeared to be in two halves. Gradually memories at the previous day returned and she said 'Ohmigod' and went to the foyer to clean up but it was spotless.

Dora found a note on the table.

Good morning darling. I will have left at 6:00 this morning to walk to my godparents's home and breakfast with them and the Greenfield's and then return my hire car I loaned them and catch the ferry to work. If you are still here next Friday evening meet the incoming ferry at 3:40 and have a wet kiss ready for me. With the bottom falling out of financial markets I'll have heaps of work to do so won't invite you over to dine and dance and whatever with you. Oh, please disinfect the tiles.

Dora beat the table with her fists wailing, 'He was too nice to call me a pig. Oh he's too good for me."

Next day she pulled out a white T-shirt and pinned it to her easel and painted a logo on the virgin white cotton.

Dora remembered the Greenfield's were leaving the island on Friday morning so invited them and the Marks' over for dinner on Thursday night. She took them down and showed the progress on the mural and was heaped with praise, especially from Stanley who kept looking at it and shaking his head, his eyes open wide in a grin while the two women spoke of its technical excellent. Owen said he wasn't interest in art and 'that sort of thing'... "In the bedroom perhaps; it's going to be really beautiful."

* * *

Roman was interviewing the first of his worried clients when Paula-Jean arrived at the office and she didn't get a real chance to talk to him until the lunch break.

"Another long weekend of debauchery in paradise I presume?"

"One drunken spree, that's all. I... um... met this woman."

He didn't continue. Paula-Jean glanced at him when he didn't continue she noticed the faraway look in his eyes.

"Ohmigod, you've found her at long last."

In the typical evasive way men deal with such things of major moment he replied, "Might of."

"So apart from the drunken spree you spent all weekend in bed."

"Nah, didn't lay a finger on her."

"Ohmigod, you poor darling, you'll be in a bad way," Paula-Jean said motherly. She locked his office door and went around behind his desk and dropped to her knees.

Afterwards she said, "I suppose this is the end of me. I'd be willing to go to the island Monday to Friday if you decide you will remain in business and retreat back to the island."

"No, it's cool. I'm being interviewed by theNational Business Review tomorrow so when they go on to interview clients of mine who responded early to my urgings to the looming crisis and have come up almost smiling through repositioning to a changing marketplace I'll probably be regarded as a minor guru. From that we'll get a truckload of new clients and will need a larger office and assistants for you to manage. I might even take in a partner or two... a lot of good people would have been fired in this shakedown."

"Well Mark and I have made enough money for both of us to take very early retirement but what would we do? Unlike you we couldn't fuck day and night and calmly sit opposite one another and smile sweetly. If we away too long in the boat by ourselves we end up scrapping and not talking."

"You decided what you want Paula-Jean. You have the business administration skills I lack and in effect we are inseparable. Your job is guaranteed and you have the additional strength of going at it like a real slut."

"Oh Roman, I love it when you sweet-talk me," she grinned.

The tide was turning. Almost all of Roman's financially bleeding clients were now heeding him. He took each one or pair of them along his perceived road to recovery for them, some having huge difficulty in accepting a paper loss remained only a paper loss so long as they remained in the markets actively. The newspaper interview went brilliantly – well the female journalist was one of his clients and was one of the earliest to adopt his strategies on how she and her father must reposition. She'd come to conduct the interview a rather happy financial investor.

On Wednesday evening at his lonely apartment eating take-out sweet and sour pork, Roman called Dora.

"Ohmigod, you've called?"

"Yes," Roman said, a little surprised. "What are you doing?"

"Masturbating."

"What?"

"I only said that to get your attention."

"You've succeeded." He told Dora about his week so far, the interview with the financial newspaper and his conversation with Paula-Jean about expanding the business."

Dora sounded scandalized. "That will mean you'll be too busy to come back over here."

"I don't think so. I'll reposition so I work a 10:00 to 2:30 day, as that is the time frame most people want to come in to see me. I can do business by phone outside those hours. If you ever decide to marry me you'll need security about my home-coming."

"Marriage?"

"It's want women want, isn't it? If it's the key to holding on to you then I'll do it."

She spoke emotionally, "I'll have to think about it."

"Good. That's what women do. I'll call you on Friday. I expect to be on the Quickcat arriving about 3:40."

"No wait. May I tell you about my week so far?"

"Yes of course. I thought we had finished this conversation."

Dora said she'd been working long hours on his mural and...

"Long hours? I thought a couple of hours and you'd be finished?"

"You appear to know as much about art as I know about the technicalities of financial investment."

He laughed and said, "You are gorgeous. You know that don't you?"

She choked a little over that and then became immensely pleased when he said she was being a good girl to have invited the others over for lunch tomorrow before the Greenfield's left the island.

"Ask them if we can come and stay with them on their horse breeding farm when we're on our honeymoon."

"I-I... I better go."

"Fine darling. I'm off to bed to grasp my little pal and to think of you."

* * *

The ferry was reversed around the end of the wharf to berth. Roman saw her. There were other blondes on the wharf waiting to board or waiting to greet arrivals. There were other women in short shorts with long tanned legs. There were other women with great breasts. But as far as he could tell, Dora was the only one packing all those assets perfectly.

He noticed people turning to look at Dora's tits and then he figured no, they were laughing at her tee. He disembarked in the pushing mass and as he walked closer to Dora he could hear woman in particular giggling at her tee; the guys just stared.

Then it was Roman's turn to grin. The wording, painted to look like dripping blood, stated, 'I've Been Naughty'. Ah, the night she'd vomited. He was so pleased she'd had the guts to do that as an atonement. They kissed and she didn't hold back, her tongue halfway down his throat. What was this? He took a risk and grabbed a tit and almost in awe realized his hand was not being tossed aside. He let go and told himself, Take it easy kid; the future Mrs Gulliver isn't a slut; she's just beside herself with relief he'd come home to her.

She'd driven down in a battered blue sports car she told him it was the condition it was in when she'd purchased it two days ago from the car hire company.

He purred, "Want to live with me in my house?"

"Yes but until the folk get back we should sleep in their home; mom worries about the house left unoccupied with all of her silver and paintings."

"Paintings – they were in the house before you two arrived on to the scene. Nothing untoward in that collection I would have thought."

"True although some of them are very good. But mom means her investment. She buys them as I paint them."

"Oh god, I haven't talked about your work have I or even ask to see it?"

"That's okay and makes us even. I haven't asked to see you working on one of your women."

Roman's face burned and he came close to driving into the back of the car that had slowed in front of them.

Dora giggled and said he was an exciting driver.

"I was appalled realizing I'd ignored your primary interest as well as your professional creativity."

"That's okay. When left alone on Monday night I tossed and turned and thought about you a great deal. I came to the conclusion I should not reject you as being undesirable, that in fact you have your own qualities and beliefs and persona that makes you completely unique to me."

"You mean you know no other guy like me."

"Exactly."

"Is that desirable?"

"Yes. It means I should take you as I find you, warts and all."

Roman grinned and said that was intelligent thinking and he was sure he didn't have genital warts. "You changed your mind that time when you saw my dick."

Dora turned crimson. "That is not it at all; god you are such a tease."

Roman had turned off the narrow main road on to what some would call 'a sealed goat track'; two vehicles could pass if they both had the offside wheels off the seal. He stopped on the highest peak.

"Oh what super glorious views... just look at the smaller islands and the glistening water of the Hauraki Gulf," Dora cooed. "God, look at that huge house being built on the ridge below, quite close to the rock face over the water."

"Like it?"

"Yes, it's a gem."

"If you decide to marry me you can have it as my wedding present. I'm having it built as a rainy day investment. But my mind can change. Actually your stepfather wants to buy it."