Deidre in the Islands Ch. 09

Janine awoke knowing that the reeking green gel the nurse had applied to her crotch had saved her trip from catastrophe the day before. If her pussy had remained irritated and red, she might have had to stop fucking. The loss of even a day would have sidetracked her from the research she needed to do now that she had a clear idea what she wanted to write. It was 1985 and she was a modern journalist -- and she was going to show everyone at her magazine, Against Moss, that she could write gonzo with the best of them!

Yesterday, after she recovered from her hangover and let her cunt recover, she had one of the most important experiences of her trip, an encounter that helped her visualize how her story would be written. It wasn't a dramatic orgy or a desperate, grasping orgasm. It was more like a sensual picnic on the grass.

She had spent four hours in the company of fourteen very attractive people from various places and of various races and colors, sitting naked on oriental-style carpets outdoors in the shade or an open tent, under the palm trees, stroking and fondling each other, trading partners, talking about everything under the sun, having sex if they wanted to, masturbating themselves and the others if they wished, breaking off and starting over without always progressing to orgasm, languidly enjoying each other's bodies as they desired. There were no social conventions or expectations, just pleasure for hours on end. Janine had hands groping her fine C-cup breasts, with their huge pink areolas, for almost the entire four hours. In turn, she enjoyed the new and vicarious pleasure to be had in making a young man come just by manipulating his balls.

Other guests came and went, some joining in, others just watching for a while and moving on, some staring intently for almost the entire time. Some masturbated, others fondled their neighbor, and three fucked on the sidelines. It was all very slow and easy.

And for the second time that trip, but the first that occurred when Janine was conscious to enjoy it, she had a man in her ass. Other guests were stroking her back and reaching under to fondle her tits as the very male guest inserted his long, thin prick deep into her rectum.

She felt her anus first stimulated by the friction of the invading member, then felt it resist on its own until the slow steady pressure broke through with a sudden pop that felt like a celebration of penetration! Then the slow slide of the prick stimulated her again with long strokes. It felt odd, but good. She did not know what the intruder felt but she felt pleasantly stuffed, stretched, and rubbed and she was surprised how much better it began to feel after a few minutes.

This time wasn't like any time before. It was slow and easy and the man stayed motionless for a long time to let her adjust. He moved slowly, letting her follow with her pelvis, and when he exploded she felt a warm feeling in her pelvis even though she didn't come. I could get used to this, she thought. Anal isn't as bad as I thought. She thought it was a nice change of pace and much different from the brutal ramming and pounding that was becoming popular in porn flicks in those days.

Her fresh experience with anal was a rousing success and it was good for each of the men too, as they came, jerkily, one by one, each in a private orgasm drawn from one of Janine's three holes. When the man in her cunt pulled his condom-sheathed dick out, Janine could feel lots of juice running down her leg and she knew that it was the product from her own excitement.

But overall she still preferred to be fucked in the cunt alone so that she could concentrate on the experience. This crowd indulged her, bringing her up to the edge and then letting her back down slowly, the better to enjoy the next wave of sensation. When she seemed to herself and all of them to be ready, they brought her to long, deep orgasms with gentle stroking -- no frantic pounding. This is sexual life! she thought. If I can capture this spirit of abandon, free of inhibitions, I can carry the message of Iznoma Hedonia to the world!

The impromptu orgy had attracted a crowd. Many guests pulled up chairs and lay down towels in a circle around the orgiasts, to watch them and try out the moves they saw that they liked. Being watched just added to the participants' pleasure, including Janine's. She knew that she had crossed the line from objectivity to true gonzo participatory journalism. She was now fucking the subjects of her interviews.

She had every intention of writing her story that very night but in the early evening after dinner she had a chance to get stretched by a man with a 12-inch cock and juiced with balls that hung halfway to his knees and she did not want to pass it up. It was indeed a memorable experience.

That was yesterday. Today she was going to write her story for sure!

Downstairs at the Caffeinery that morning, Janine ran into Marjorie, sitting in a chair outside the hotel wearing her loincloth loose, so that her crotch could be seen from the side, and a strip of transparent muslin over her full, floppy boobs that showed off her nipples nicely, scanning the lawn and the far beach with binoculars.

Marjorie, who started as a refugee, protected on the Island after her flight from her native country in Eastern Europe, was the resort pity fucker. Her role was to seek out the men, and occasional woman who liked women, who weren't getting any and to make sure they got some. "It's Wednesday morning and by now some of the men who are not laid right away have beginning of panic!" she said, in her hard-to-identify Eastern European accent. "It is time for me to spot them, to get to work. If they get lucky today or Thursday, the slow ones, they will go home happy if they stay one week and have me in their bed once or twice. Or if they stay two I will get them, how you say, 'in the groove' for themselves to make them feel sexy." Marjorie's eyes and ears were the staff, who reported the unpaired-off guests to her. Marjorie pointed to a nearby chair on the lawn outside.

On the lawn Janine saw a middle-aged man with wavy silver hair and a slight paunch sitting alone in a chair, nude. His dick looked lonely and shriveled. Around him were couples in various sexual poses, getting an early start on the day, but he was alone. Marjorie was preparing to move over next to him. She needed to make the encounter seem completely natural so that he would not be conscious that he was being serviced. A satisfied male guest is a guest who thinks he is a stud, not the beneficiary of professional largesse.

"Why is that man all alone?" Janine asked. "He's nice looking for an older guy. Who is he?"

"The staff tells me he is distributor of adult films," said Marjorie. Deidre had brought in many people from the sex industry in the first years of her managing the resort, through her contacts and through advertising to the trade. They loved it and kept coming back. Now, the chance to meet and possibly lay the big-name pornstars who came to Iznoma Hedonia at a big discount attracted lots of men who paid much higher fees.

"But wouldn't that make him a valuable contact for an aspiring pornstar?" Janine asked.

"Not really," said Marjorie, who had obviously learned a lot in her two years at Iznoma Hedonia. "He doesn't cast the movies he sells and he doesn't book personal appearances at porn shops -- the producer does that. He doesn't even have the power to do product placement at the point of purchase in retail outlets. Why would they care about him?"

Janine understood. The girls either went for the studs or someone who could do them some good. Well, was that so different from what she did herself cruising the bars in New York?

Marjorie had to figure out a way to pick up the silver-haired man without him knowing he was being accosted. Her plan was pretty basic. She said goodbye and walked out through the hotel exit, so that she could circle around and walk nonchalantly in front of the man, at which time she planned to smile sweetly. It shouldn't be hard to get him interested. After all, when he didn't think anyone was watching he was playing with himself.

Alone, Janine went back to her notes and started to organize her story. Once she got organized, she went to the resort library and used the little work station there to put her notes together and build a first draft. They had something new there called a "word processor". It was there in case the adult film writers got a great idea for a movie and wanted to knock out a script or the literary pornographers got inspired to write the great American dirty novel. Janine had used a word processor before, a Wang something, and this one, which they called a "Dec" was easy to figure out. She loved the convenience of how easy it was to write and rewrite.

The only problem was the distraction of an apparently married couple who wandered into the library and started looking at a copy of Deidre's infamous book, the one she had to sue her publisher to print! Their giggling was annoying but the distraction got worse when they began fucking, without a condom, on the sofa in front of her workstation. Fortunately the pictures of the fabulous Deidre, shot in every conceivable sexual position but always in control of the situation, turned them on so much that they both came within minutes of starting their copulation. Then they drug themselves out of the library listlessly, come dripping down the woman's leg, and left Janine alone again with her notes on her own sexual behavior.

It was a silly way to spend the morning at a beautiful seaside resort with sexy people all around her, Janine knew, but she had to get this story written. Against Moss was the voice of her generation. Her reputation as a serious journalist was riding on the chance to get her byline on a story that got a lot of attention. Soon she had several pages, the first part focused on how she felt about the sex and promiscuity all around her and the second part thrusting the reader, without warning, just as she had been thrusted into, into a long and very intimate narrative on how she felt personally being fucked, kneaded, sucked, repeatedly screwed, sodomized, stroked, slimed, and groped, not in that order. It would be her contribution to gonzo journalism -- a new genre of gonzo porn! She was so proud of herself for thinking up the idea but she knew she had to deliver the goods to her editor or it wouldn't mean anything.

Janine broke for lunch and then went back to work. A little before two o'clock, however, she had to quit and take a shower in preparation for one of the most famous rituals of Iznoma Hedonia! The biweekly costume party was tonight! Janine had an appointment with the body painter! She had thought about buying a costume but decided not to. Deidre was giving her the body painting free (was it a breach of journalistic ethics to accept the gift from the subject of her story? Not gonzo ethics!) and it would give her a chance to sample the graphic arts at Iznoma Hedonia.

Besides, the idea of going to a costume party with body paint as the costume was intriguing to her. Her wide pink areola already looked painted onto her gorgeous breasts. It was time to see what could be done on the rest of her body.