Island Fever Ch. 12

"Oh, come on, Jeremy!" she laughed, blushing somewhat. "I'm not that pretty, you know."

"Are you crazy?"

"What?"

"Are you crazy?" I reiterated. "Take a good look in the mirror, Lindsay. A good, long look. You are BEAUTIFUL. Do not ever try to tell yourself otherwise."

"Oh Jeremy!"

"Your face is so fresh and wholesome-looking," I told her. "Your skin and complexion are both flawless. Your teeth are whiter than white. Everything that pertains to your body just screams absolute beauty. You're a dream-come-true."

"Jeremy!"

"Have you ever considered being a model?"

"No!" she giggled.

"You should."

"Oh, stop it!"

"A sweet, little thing like you would look really good modeling school fashions in a department store catalog." Lindsay grinned and rolled her eyes at me as I kept talking, "Or little, string bikinis for the summer heat wave..."

"You sound just like a man!" Lindsay then squealed as I cupped one of her ripe, taut breasts through the night-shirt that she wore and gave it a healthy squeeze. "Stop that!"

I chuckled at her animated reaction. "Well, I certainly hope that I sound like a man. I AM a man, you know..."

"And a very good one at that," Lindsay nodded, extending both arms and then offering me a loving embrace. She even kissed the side of my neck before pulling away from me. "Oh, Jeremy! What am I going to do with you?"

"Whatever you want. I'm flexible that way."

Lightning and thunder struck someplace close yet again. This time, however, Lindsay took a deep breath and offered me a smile. "I'm not going to let the storm get to me like it did earlier. It is not near as bad down here, just as you promised, Jeremy. More importantly than that, though, YOU are with me. I feel very safe and secure with you. I feel more safe with you than I would with anyone else."

Those words made my insides glow. "Thank you, dear."

"No, thank you." Lindsay suddenly glanced all about the central room, then she pointed somewhere off in the distance. "Oh ... look!" The charming 18-year-old broke away from my embrace and crawled over to the nearby sofa, then came back the same way with a thick pink binder of some sort. It did not belong to me. I had no idea who it belonged to.

Lindsay again snuggled close to me and placed the binder in her lap, then looked over at me with a very happy, vibrant expression. "This is a little photo album of mine," she explained. "I must have left it down here the other day and forgot about it. It has pictures of me and my immediate family in it, plus a few friends and the like."

"Oh?" I asked, curious.

"Would you like to look at it with me?"

"Are you kidding?" was my immediate response. "Of course, sweetheart ... I would LOVE to see your scrapbook."

"I brought this book down here on Monday so Trish and Devon could look at it," Lindsay said, opening the big album to its first page. "They enjoyed looking at it with me. They liked to learn more about my family."

"I bet they did," I nodded, before tilting my head and inspecting the lone photograph on the first page of the album. It was a beautiful head-shot of Lindsay, naturally, with her face turned slightly to the side and those pretty eyes sparkling as she gazed directly into the camera lens.

"This is my senior portrait from high school," she cooed. "You like it? I think it is one of my better pictures. It was taken just last October. I was age 17 here ... less than two months away from turning 18."

"I love it," I told her, again shrugging my shoulders. "What is there not to love about your pretty face and smile?" Lindsay blushed and grinned one more time. "I bet you were the homecoming queen at your high school ... weren't you? I bet you won the vote in an absolute landslide."

Lindsay blushed yet again and cast her eyes away from me for a moment. Then, instead of answering my question, she simply turned to the next page. "Here are photographs of my three sisters - Gina, Jennifer and Alison."

"Alison is definitely the prettiest of the group, if you ask me," I offered. "Of course, Alison looks a lot like you do, Lindsay, so that is the reason why I say that she is the prettiest of all your sisters." The enchantress shook her head at me as I asked, "How old is Alison again?"

"16. Alison is the baby of our family." Lindsay smiled at the images and continued, "Jennifer is 23 and Gina is 20. Jennifer is a mommy; she has a little baby, but moved back home with us after she broke up with her husband last year. It was right before my dad passed away."

"So Lindsay is already an aunt?" I chuckled. "What is the name of your sister's baby? A boy or girl, too?"

"Katherine ... a girl, obviously. 11 months old."

"Do you get to watch after her a lot?"

"Oh yes," Lindsay nodded as this time, there was only the rumbling of thunder overhead. Maybe the lightning had passed on? Whatever the case, Lindsay kept talking, "Actually, my younger sister, Alison and I ... we fight over the baby more often than not!" Lindsay giggled at her own words. "Alison and I are always wanting to babysit Katherine whenever Jenn is at work. We get into fights about it a lot of times, too! I LOVE babysitting Katherine ... but so does Alison!"

I chuckled at the image within my mind of Lindsay and her younger sister fighting over who got to watch the baby. In that sense, at least, Alison must be happy that Lindsay was away from home for these six weeks. Alison was most likely in charge of babysitting Katherine with Lindsay on vacation.

"And you said last week that your other sister, Gina, was living in Colorado when your father died?" I asked. "Gina came back to Ohio and also moved back into the family home?"

Lindsay nodded. "Gina went to college and was studying at Colorado State University. She liked it there, but felt the need to come back home and be with us after dad died. Gina helps us out with living expenses now. I live with my mom and all three of my sisters. We're a team."

Lindsay thumbed her way to the next page in the album and again smiled at the series of photographs before her. All of them featured her and an older, middle-aged man together.

"This whole page is pictures of me and my father," Lindsay told me. She frowned for a split-second, then pointed toward a specific photograph. "This was the last picture of him and me together before he died. Just two days before he died..."

I groaned inwardly and shook my head at the photograph of a happy father-and-daughter couple, looking as if they had no worries or concerns in the world. Certainly, neither of them had a clue as to what was going to happen in the next two days. In the photograph, Lindsay had both arms around her father in a spirited bear-hug as the two of them mugged for the camera. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Your dad looks so happy ... so energized, so full of life. I am so sorry. It was a tragedy that he was lost at such an early age."

"Age 46..." Lindsay murmured, her expression distant and empty. "For the life of me, I will never understand why he had to die so young. I always thought dad would live forever. I woke up one day for school, had breakfast and joked around with him at the table like I always did. Nothing seemed wrong. Everything seemed typical. I told him I loved him, then went to school and when I came back home la-late in the afternoon, m-my dad ... he was d-dead. Dead on the sofa. His heart ... just gave out on him, all at once."

It appeared as if Lindsay was about to break down and cry, but she somehow maintained her composure and did not shed a single tear. Still, I brought her into my arms and offered her a warm, soothing embrace. Once she mashed her face upon my chest, I figured the gesture on my part was appreciated. Obviously, Lindsay idolized her father and missed him very much. It was still a shock to her that he was actually dead.

"Here are some pictures of my mom and dad together," the little blonde soon sniffed, turning to the next page in the album. She pulled her head away from me and explained, "Mom turned 46 herself a few months ago. She and dad got married at a very early age. Mom was only 23 when they had their first-born - my sister, Jennifer. She was only 18 - my age - when her and dad got married."

"Your mother is a very attractive lady," I observed. "I can see where you get your good looks from, dear." Lindsay still appeared to be upset, so I attempted to ease her pain with a simple kiss across the forehead. "I wish that I could have been there for you, honey, when your father passed away last year. I would have done anything at all to make you feel better. You do know that ... right?"

Lindsay sniffed her nose again. "I wish he never died in the first place! That is what I wish!"

"Well ... yeah," I nodded. "I wish that even more. But I am sure that your dad is still with you ... if just in spirit. I am sure your dad is very proud of the wonderful, young lady that you have become. I bet that he is in Heaven right now, bragging to others about what an ideal daughter you are."

"You th-think?"

"I know, honey. I know. You are very polite, very nice and sweet. You do not have one mean bone in your whole body. You have good, strong values, and God is a very important part of your life. If you were my daughter, Lindsay, I would be very proud of you. So I know your dad is."

Lindsay looked up at me and forged a smile. "Thank you, Jeremy. I like to believe that my dad is always with me, too. Sometimes I think of him as my guardian angel ... watching over me ... making sure that I am safe and sound."

"He IS with you," I assured her.

"I just wish that he was still alive."

"I know you do, baby. I know you do. And so do I..."

"If my dad was still alive, I would not be here with you right now," Lindsay informed me. "I would not be on the island at all because I would not need the money to help my family out. I would have never even considered coming here. You and I would have never met, Jeremy."

I shook my head at her. "I don't care, honey. Although I enjoy being with you, obviously, I would trade all of my time with you if your father could still be alive. Really, that should go without saying. I am not selfish that way. As much as Trish cares about you, and wants you in her life, I am positive that she would tell you the same, exact thing. Trish would rather your father still be alive. Trish would trade meeting you if your father could still be alive. That is because she cares about you so very, very much. Your dad still being here - taking care of you and your mom, and your sisters - is of far greater importance than anything I gain by having you in my life."

Lindsay puckered her glossy lips together and shrugged her shoulders, then went onto the next page in her photo album. "Here I am with my friend, Megan." I smiled at the image of Lindsay and a young, pretty brunette, both of whom were wearing supermarket uniforms as they smiled for the camera.

"You and Megan work together?"

"Uh huh," Lindsay nodded, quickly turning to the next page. My eyes nearly exploded at what I saw as Lindsay explained, "This is my varsity cheerleading picture." I literally drooled and salivated, with carnal thoughts racing through my mind, as I gawked like a fool at the photograph. There was Lindsay - in a tiny, little cheerleader uniform! "I always loved cheerleading. That is one thing I really miss about being in school. Maybe if I decide to go to college, I can be a cheerleader again." Lindsay turned and offered me a quizzical look. "Are you okay, Jeremy?"

I cleared my throat twice and then shook my head several times in succession, as if to get rid of the mental cobwebs. It was as if I had just been blindsided by a school bus! "I am sorry, Lindsay. I just had this vision about you ... that is all. You, in a little cheerleader outfit..."

Lindsay appeared confused. "What do you mean?"

"Cheerleaders have always been a fetish of mine," I said, my eyes again drifting toward that magnificent photograph. God ... what I wouldn't give to jump right into that image and make mad, passionate love to this little fox with her cheerleader uniform still on. I would love to empty a hot load of sperm all over her cheerleader shell top. My body even shivered with erotic delight at the mere thought!

"You like cheerleaders, Jeremy?"

I was able to tear my gaze away from the picture and make eye contact with Lindsay. "Yes. Very much so. I think every normal, red-blooded man LOVES the idea of being with a sweet and innocent cheerleader. It's a common fantasy. It is something that I have fantasized about for all my life. But I have never been with one."

Lindsay snickered at me and wondered, "Couldn't you just BUY a cheerleader with all the money you have?"

"What's the fun in that?" I retorted. "I would want it to be real, and authentic. Not something manufactured, or bought. I'd want the cheerleader to be someone that I know, and care about. That way, it would be special."

Lindsay reached up and twirled several strands of her silky, long-flowing blonde hair around an extended fingertip. "Do you wanna know something, Jeremy? I brought my varsity cheerleading uniform to the island with me." My jaw nearly hit the floor beneath us as Lindsay ended, "I can put it on for you if you want..."

Needless to say, my heart was now beating and pounding within my chest harder than ever before.

"You ... y-you br-brought your uniform w-with y-y-you?" I stuttered, barely able to get the words out of my mouth. I tried to gather my senses before continuing, "Didn't you ... didn't you ha-have t-to turn it back into your sc-school?"

Lindsay giggled at me. "I was supposed to, yes. But my cheerleader uniform was so special to me that I wanted to keep it. So I made a deal with the cheerleading coach and bought the uniform from the school. I paid them money. I could never see giving it up."

Awestruck, I simply stared at Lindsay as she continued to coo and cavort in that sexy, sweet voice of hers. I was trying to imagine how I could possibly control myself if she were to put on her cheerleading uniform and model it for me. Would I even be able to survive the ordeal?

Lindsay giggled yet again. "I can go to my room and put my uniform on, then come back here and maybe do a couple of dances and cheers for you. Would you like that, Jeremy?"

Unable to speak now, I slowly nodded my head at her.

"You wait here, then," she laughed, getting up from the floor. "Storm or no storm, I will be back in just a couple of minutes. You sit tight, Jeremy. I'll do some cheers and dances, then you can live out your fantasy with me."

(!!)

-

A series of torrid emotions swirled throughout my entire body over the next five minutes as I (im)patiently waited for Lindsay to make her return to the central room. I was literally out my mind too, and for good reason. The thought of having sex with Lindsay - with her uniform still on - sent my emotions spiraling and careening out of control. My cock was already pulsating within my shorts.

Lindsay. Young Lindsay. Sweet Lindsay. Little Lindsay. Learning how to suck my cock and swallow my sperm Lindsay! Cheerleader Lindsay. I began to shake and tremble at the idea of drilling the precocious 18-year-old in her uniform. There was something to be said for the allure of a girl in uniform ... especially when it was a cheerleader uniform!

"Oh God..." I moaned out loud once a pair of black saddle shoes appeared at the top of the spiral staircase. A moment later, I felt dizzy and light-headed as Lindsay slowly but surely descended the staircase and came into view. Suddenly, it seemed as if I had died and gone to erotic Heaven!

"Hi Jeremy," Lindsay cooed, her face red with youthful embarrassment, as she stepped into the room. Holding a pair of pom-poms, Lindsay offered me the sweetest smile and said, "Do you like my uniform? I'm wearing it just for you."

I took a deep breath and sighed, a multitude of ravenous thoughts and ideas running roughshod throughout my soul. Most of them were too raunchy to even describe here.

Needless to say, Lindsay looked absolutely scrumptious in her darling, little uniform. She wore a thin, long-sleeved turtleneck shirt, its color white, underneath a green shell top with a V-neck design and no sleeves. The shell top had two thin, yellow stripes across the shoulders, and two more running down each side. With a high school's name and emblem stretched out across her taut, wondrous breasts, the top was also an extremely snug fit.

The matching cheerleader skirt, its main color green with yellow, knife-like pleats included, was made of light cotton. The little skirt bounced and flipped about easily as Lindsay stepped closer to me. Because the skirt was so very short and low-cut, Lindsay's yellow, stretchy cheerleader panties were clearly visible. A sexy pair of knee-high white socks adorned her tender, lithe calves, with a trio of yellow ring designs at the top of each. To top her outfit off, Lindsay wore that pair of black saddle shoes. What a princess...

Although she looked like a tempting, little high school freshman more now than ever before (jail-bait!), I wanted Lindsay. I wanted to corrupt her! The way that she was making me feel was simply not right!

"God, Lindsay..." I growled. "You're so beautiful..." Seriously, I could have married this girl right here and now.

Was there anything NOT to like about Lindsay? She had even tied her immaculate, long-flowing blonde hair into a bushy pony-tail for me! That wholesome, sweet-cheeks face and her sexy mouth enhanced with its red, glossy lips. Lindsay had a smile which could stop a freight train. Of course, one could never forget that sleek, slender figure of hers. No wonder Trish was so madly in love with this girl! I quickly realized that I was at that very same point, too!

Lindsay giggled in her own, unique fashion as she turned and modeled her luscious outfit for me, the bouncy skirt flailing high on her hips as she spun around in a circle. Lindsay clutched one of her breasts through the shell top and turtleneck, then sighed and grinned at me. She knew that I was under her spell. Lindsay was in control here.

The little vixen hoisted the front of her skirt up, allowing me an unobstructed view of her yellow panties. I gulped my throat at the sight as she grinned, "Want this?"

"Very much so," I nodded, literally foaming at the mouth.

"I figured as much!" Lindsay squealed. "But first ... I want to do a couple of cheers and dances for you. Okay?"

When I did not answer - perhaps because I was in a trance as I continually gawked at this pretty young thing standing before me - Lindsay took the initiative by stepping to the center of the room. Clutching her green-and-white pom-poms and suddenly looking quite uneasy and awkward, Lindsay gulped her throat and took a long, deep breath. Obviously, she had never performed for anyone in a one-on-one setting before. Did Lindsay suddenly think of herself as Pamela, who made her living strutting her stuff and showcasing herself for others? There was no need for her to feel any kind of anxiety and/or guilt here, simply because she was with me.

Young Lindsay's dancing was a bit stiff at first, as she moved and wiggled her precious, little body to an unheard musical rhythm. Perhaps Lindsay, who was so incredibly shy and humble, was wondering to herself how she had stumbled into a situation like this. Was she having second thoughts about dancing for me? Lindsay was definitely nervous.

I tried to quell her anxiety by offering her a warm, appreciative smile. Lindsay seemed to take it to heart. Remarkably, that subtle, reassuring smile from me was a springboard to getting her to loosen up.

Lindsay held the pair of pom-poms in front of her and churned them about in a quick, furious manner. She began to grind her tight, little ass in a sensuous display, her cheerleader skirt flipping about and flashing the inverted yellow pleats and her glove-tight panties underneath.