Island Fever Ch. 13

Chapter 13: "Resolution"

After two days of endless rain and occasional lightning and thunder storms, the weather had finally cleared up here on the island. I woke up this morning and was pleased that there were blue skies for as far as the eye could see. I figured that after breakfast, many (if not all) of the ladies would take advantage of the beautiful weather and spend the majority of their day soaking up the sun.

Seated inside my voyeur room, I smiled and looked on as indeed, everyone was enjoying the beauty of the outdoors. Myself, I was enjoying the beauty of all of these ladies.

Lindsay was frolicking around in the grotto with Pamela, Trish and Amy, while it appeared as if Kristanna was leading Devon and Camille on a hike alongside the seascape of stone cliffs and mesmerizing ocean views on the island's southern side. I had been sitting here watching (and admiring) both groups for the better part of 45 minutes. However, I was not eavesdropping on either of the discussions. Not yet, anyway. I had the sound muted, and was too lost in thought.

Decisions, decisions, decisions...

I freely admit that when the ladies first arrived on the island nearly two weeks ago, I shot and bounced around like a ping-pong ball in an arcade machine when it came to my feelings and emotions for them. During their initial day alone, I went from Trish being my favorite, to Pamela, then Devon, to Lindsay, before eventually zeroing in on Amy that particular evening. I saw wedding bells and screaming babies in the future of yours truly and whichever woman I was currently fixated on on.

The following day was was more of the same, but not quite as extreme as the one before it. I wanted to marry Pamela. As time went on, I was assured that Devon was the girl for me. But Trish, although seemingly quite elusive to me due to her own feelings toward Lindsay, was always lurking in the background as a wild card. As for Lindsay, how could I not be drawn to her like a magnet?

For awhile there, I was zig-zagging amongst them like a wild man. I could have my sights set on Devon, for example, then be dreaming about seeing Pamela in a wedding dress an hour later. Then, I would go back to Devon. Or Trish. Or Lindsay, or Amy. Maybe even a fleeting thought of Camille?

As I look back on those first couple of days, while I confess that it may have made me look somewhat shallow in the eyes of some, I do think my constant procrastination and indecisiveness was justified. Well, maybe not justified - perhaps understood would be the better word.

Having spent the majority of the past 17 years in near isolation on this island, I was not used to others being around. I was certainly not accustomed to waking up each morning and spending my day with six drop-dead gorgeous females fluttering about (seven if you count Kristanna). Even better, all of these ladies (sans Camille) seemed to have an interest in me. Some more than others, of course.

So, I could compare myself to a kid in a candy store for those first couple of days. Everything was new; it was unique, fresh, great, exciting ... I went a little overboard with some of my thoughts and emotions. Given the unique circumstances, could anyone really blame me?

However, I am actually much more level-headed than that. After awhile, I realized that I needed to take a step back and not come to such hasty conclusions every single time one of these amazing, remarkable women simply lay a fingertip on me. It was not healthy for me. Nor was it constructive. Plus, it did not help me accomplish what I set out to do in bringing all of the ladies here to begin with. Most of all, it was not fair to offer them any false hope or promises.

So, I took that proverbial step back and, for the past week-and-a-half, I believe that I had handled my personal emotions in a much more clear and concise manner. I had a few high spots, indeed, but nothing too extreme. I felt good. Really good. I also felt that the time was nearing for me to make a definitive choice amongst the girls, and explore the possibility of a life-long relationship with her.

But how could I pick just one? Minus Camille, I could easily envision myself settling down with any of them!

Seated at the control panel within my voyeur room, I focused my gaze upon the monitor which oversaw the grotto. Pamela, Trish, Lindsay and Amy were all clearly having a good time as they soaked their wondrous bodies and relaxed in the water. For the first time this morning, I decided to flip the audio switch for the grotto on, and listen in.

"I cannot believe that you are from Ohio," Amy said to Lindsay, as they waded about in the waist-deep water of the grotto in their bikinis. "You know, Jeremy is originally from Ohio too - just like us. In fact, all three of us are from the same general area - Cincinnati."

As Lindsay nodded her head, Pamela offered, "Is Ohio as slow and boring as people make it out to be? I guess people think that more about Cincinnati than Ohio as a whole."

"It is pretty boring," Amy admitted, before turning her attention back toward Lindsay. "Of course, I would have had a lot more fun there if I had known you back home, honey." The fertile-minded blonde blushed at those words as Amy added, "You and I could tear the walls of Cincinnati down. Just think what we could do if Jeremy was with us, too!"

"Maybe all three of you should have gotten together long before now," Pamela mused. "Maybe a three-way marriage?"

Trish latched onto Lindsay from behind and spoke in a protective tone, "No, please don't say that. I want Lindsay for myself." She curled her neck and planted a kiss across Lindsay's face, adding, "If this girl winds up marrying anyone, it should be me!"

Pamela giggled and asked, "Do they have rules against same-sex marriages in Canada?"

"I don't know," Trish replied. "I may have to find out. I would think that it is illegal in Ohio."

"I wouldn't concern myself with being married or not," Amy offered. "Just as long as I went to bed each night with my face between Lindsay's legs, I'd be very happy."

The 18-year-old blushed and fidgeted about in response to those words as Pamela grinned, "What about me, Amy? Would you like to go to bed with your face between MY legs?"

"I already do," Amy responded, smiling. "Room-mates, remember? I've licked your pussy just about every night thus far, Pamela, until you've cum for me. Haven't I?"

The exotic dancer sighed contently and answered, "Oh yes."

"And used plenty of dildos on you, too," Amy added.

Lindsay squirmed and writhed about some more before saying, "Maybe you could use those dildos on me sometime too, Amy. Would you like that?"

The red-head's eyes flashed with definite arousal as she licked her lips at the prospects. "I'd love to. Maybe a little later tonight, or tomorrow, I can show you what true dildo-love is. I'd love to be the first to show it to you!"

Pamela grinned and suggested, "Use that 24-inch monster of yours on her, Amy. Lindsay would love that."

"24 INCHES?" Trish exclaimed. "She'd be split in HALF!"

"That's the idea," Amy said in a wicked, devious tone.

I stumbled across that conversation at the right time!

Ahh, Amy. Amy Kathleen [Last Name withheld]. Could I be wrong about Amy? Underneath all of that aggression Amy would portray to others from time to time - most notably Lindsay - I got the idea that she was nothing more than a mild, little pussycat. A baby kitten, if you will. Or, that was the true Amy. That side of her had yet to come to the surface, but I felt it was there - and waiting to bust out.

Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps I was crazy? Maybe. But I was not alone. Kristanna even suggested that Amy was overly submissive, and that I needed to take control of her. Amy would really, truly want that, Kristanna predicted, and it would help quell her aggression and, for lack of a better term, put her in her place.

Alas, I was not the dominant type - although I suppose I certainly could learn to be. I had watched a few movies and videos of the genre over the years, and they intrigued me. Regardless, I saw something in Amy. No matter how many times she had teased Lindsay, or said bad things about her behind her back (like when she told Camille that she wanted to leave Lindsay tied up all day at home, only to then arrive later on and relentlessly beat her with a strap), there was something about Amy that drew me to her. Underneath that hard and rigid exterior was a little kitty cat. And, much like me, that kitty cat was yearning for love and attention.

Amy came across to me as all bark, but really just meows. Despite all of her proclamations thus far, she had yet to lay an inappropriate finger on Lindsay. Not one wrong finger on her at all! I did not think she had it in her. Amy simply liked to shock others, and get attention. She needed someone - perhaps me - to corral her, and keep her in check. Most of all, Amy needed someone to love her.

Unlike the majority of the ladies here, I had been witness to the other side of Amy. I had seen different variations of her personality from time to time. She was not always harsh and abrasive. In fact, while around me for the most part, Amy seemed humble and ... kind? But whatever the perception others had of her, there was definitely a strong chemistry between us, and it could not be ignored.

Of course, the bigger concern was whether or not I could envision marrying Amy in the future and spending the rest of my life with her. Was Amy wife material? Would she be a good wife and an even better mother?

Quite simply, I think she could. I could easily picture wedding bells in our future. Mind you, several things would have to change and others would need to fall perfectly into place, but I could see it. I also had the idea that Amy - for the right man - could be the picture-perfect, ideal (and faithful) wife. Again, call me crazy.

What about Lindsay?

Lindsay was an entirely different story for me. Lindsay was the tight, little teen-ager fresh off of graduation who was making me feel as if I was back in high school myself. Remember, I am 39 years of age. With Lindsay, though, it seemed as if I was somehow getting to partake in all those things that I missed out on when I was younger.

When I was growing up, the head cheerleader at my school certainly never seemed to notice me. Ahhhhh ... Bonnie was her name. I often wondered if Bonnie was aware that I even existed. Here on the island, though, our head cheerleader was not only ready, willing and able to do pom-pom dances and chants for me on demand, but she also could not seem to keep her mouth away from my cock.

I wanted to take Lindsay to the prom. We did not have a prom here on the island, but perhaps I could come up with some ideas and create one of our own. I wanted to take Lindsay out to the movies and make out with her in the back corner. I wanted to take Lindsay to the mall and walk around with her for hours on end. I wanted to hold her hand and ask her if her mother would mind me coming over for dinner. I wanted to call her on the telephone at night and tell her how much she meant to me. I even wanted to pass silly, little notes to her in class when the teacher wasn't looking.

Indeed, Lindsay made me feel as if I was in high school again. However, there was a cold, harsh reality here. I was not in high school. I was so out of touch with things that even if I was still in high school, I had no chance of fitting in whatsoever. Not only that, but I had 21 years of age on Lindsay. I was old enough to be her father. Yikes!

Kristanna made this point to me originally, and I was now starting to see it too. Lindsay was too young for me. More importantly, I was too old for her. I could live with Lindsay being younger than me. That was not the issue. The problem was I could not live with myself being so much older than her. It was not fair to her.

Oh, I had great fun with Lindsay. I planned to continue to do so for as long as she was a guest on my island. But in all seriousness, and with a rational head, I could not see Lindsay as my bride-to-be. Sadly, there was no way.

When she was my age, I would be 60. At 39, I could not see myself with a 60-year-old woman. I could flip that around and say the same for Lindsay. Would it be fair to her? If she and I were to get married, Lindsay would most likely be a widow by the time she turned 50. I certainly do not want her to spend the final 20 years of her life with such a void. Again, that would not be fair to her at all.

Perhaps I would think differently if Lindsay showed those type of feelings for me, but she did not. Not yet, anyway. Nor did I expect her to. Yes, Lindsay liked me. It was safe to say that she had a major crush on me. Whenever we got together, she and I definitely had a blast. But that did not mean that Lindsay had any notion of a life-long commitment in mind. At her age, she would, quite honestly, be foolish to.

I was crazy about the girl and she would forever have a place in my heart, but I had to cross Lindsay off the list. Unless something drastic and unexpected happens, that is.

Then there was the case of Trish. Trish was a shining beacon of light. She had the personality and the presence to light up even the darkest of rooms. Trish was so incredibly kind and giving. She had one of the biggest hearts of any human being I had ever known. Plus, Trish was so positive and energetic all of the time. She was so driven and goal oriented. Nothing could stop her.

The problem for me with Trish had not changed, though. She was in love with Lindsay, and blind to everyone else. Unfortunately, that included me.

Trish was the wild card of the group for me. She was the sleeper. If this woman had shown even half of the interest in me that Pamela and Devon did, I would be all over her. I was that enamored with Trish. I would consider myself to be the luckiest man alive to have a woman like her in my life and on my arm. Alas, Trish seemed to look at me as nothing more than a friend - and someone who helped her facilitate the popping of Lindsay's virginal cherry.

If her feelings were to change, though, I could easily fall into the abyss with Trish and never find my way back. I wanted to open up and give her so much love and affection. But again, the circumstances were not right. Nor did they appear that they ever would be. Sad, but true.

But what an awesome person Trish was. She will make someone very happy one day. Perhaps Lindsay? Indeed, Trish was my one and only chick. She was a cool chick.

Thus, I had narrowed my choices down. I really needed to focus my attention over the coming days and (perhaps) weeks on the two ladies who had shown the most interest in me thus far. Of course, I had shown quite a vested interest in them as well. Those two ladies were none other than ... yes, you guessed it - Pamela and Devon.

Pamela was, by far, the most intriguing of all of the women to me. How could someone with the mind and IQ of a genius have subjected herself to being an exotic dancer for the past 11 years? Just how many people had actually witnessed the beauty of a nude Pamela before? Thousands? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? Perhaps even a million or more? I would bet on the latter. 11 years is certainly a long time when the customers are always filing in and out, and the faces are new.

Of course, I did not look at Pamela as a stripper. Why? Pamela was better than that to me. Much better. All I had to do was try and match wits with her, and she would pound me every single time. Trish may have been my chick, but Pamela was my librarian. Busty librarian, that is.

Nor did I care that Pamela was a stripper. In my eyes, at least, she was not a stripper any longer. I was not going to hold that against her in the slightest. That career had helped shape her into the person that she is today. Needless to say, that was a person whom I cared about very deeply.

I liked to compare Pamela with Amy in the sense that both ladies were clearly looking for something that had yet to come along in their respective lives. They both wanted someone to sweep them off their feet and treat them with the love, dignity and respect that they so richly deserve. Hey, I could do that - especially for Pamela.

The easiest and most simple way for me to describe Devon is to say that she was a good woman. She was good, and clean. Devon was the type of woman that you wanted to take home to your family. She was the type of woman who your mother would be proud to call her daughter-in-law. Devon literally had no faults. She was, in a word, flawless.

Devon was full of the sunshine and sweetness that could make my knees weak and tremble. She was fierce and loyal to a fault. She was honest and forthcoming. There was not a mean or deceitful cell within her entire body. Plus, on top of all of that, Devon was just so damn adorable. Polite and with an ever-present smile, even her voice was soft and silky. There was nothing not to like about her.

It also helped that from her very first evening on the island, Devon had been putting moves on me left and right. She was definitely interested in a relationship with me, and was not afraid to let me (or anyone else) know, either.

I felt so much at ease whenever I was with Devon. Plain and simple, she made me happy. Kristanna recently told me that God had created the two of us - Devon and yours truly - for each other. We were destined to meet, Kristanna claimed, and embark on the rest of our lives in unison. Perhaps Kristanna was right? Trust me, she was rarely wrong.

So, I had my initial list. It was a rough draft of not only who I considered to be the best fit for me amongst all of the women, but it also included if I was the proper fit for them as well. It took many different things and factors into consideration - some of which I touched upon above. It was in no way scientific. And, it was subject to change.

-------

1. Devon

2. Pamela

(And now, a massive drop-off) :-

3. Amy

4. Trish

5. Lindsay

6. Camille (only because I had to mention her).

-------

"I know all da little nooks and crannies of dis island," Kristanna said in that quirky accent of hers, as she guided Devon and Camille on a nature walk. I had now decided to listen in and eavesdrop on their conversation from the prime comfort of my voyeur room. Pamela, Trish, Lindsay and Amy, meanwhile, were still enjoying themselves in the grotto.

"Jeremy has shown me everyding dare is to see here," Kristanna added. " can take yew yust about anyvare on da island. I know it all real vell."

"You're taking us to a waterfall now, right?" Camille confirmed. "I could use a dip in the water."

"Not a vaterfall," the Norwegian returned. "A basin of fresh-vater. Dare is cliff to dive off of. It be fun!"

"You know Jeremy a lot better than the rest of us," Devon said to Kristanna, as Camille followed them along a narrow pathway. "Can I ask if Jeremy is as nice and sweet as he seems? I mean, I've never met anyone who is as soft-spoken and respectful as he is. It's like he's not real sometimes."

"Oh, Jeremy be real," Kristanna grinned. "Very real. He vants to find a vife and get married, and settle down, vid a family. I cannot ever remember Jeremy being mad or upset. Vat yew see is vat yew get vid him ... it is not an act. Dat is nicest man any of yew vill ever meet, ya."

"He is by far the nicest person I've ever come across," Devon swooned. "I just wonder why he has spent so much time in isolation ... in solitare, here."

"Here ve are!" Kristanna announced.

Devon, Kristanna and Camille had finally reached their destination on the southern side of the island. I panned the hidden camera back for a quick moment and took in their surroundings; it was simply beautiful.

With a volcanic mountain as their backdrop, the ladies would have a 40-foot cliff to jump off of into a basin of fresh, crystal-clear water. The walls of the cliff were a lush green, and the entire area was shaded because of the crowded mass of huge, majestic trees which surrounded it.