Real Love Ch. 02

It's sudden and intense, a hard and fast orgasm that he doesn't expect, but blows him away. His hand moves from her clit to her lower stomach, pulling her in to his body, his muscles throughout his body strong and rigid, pressing her into his shoulder, his chest, into his pelvis, pushing himself inside her as deep as he can go.

"Oh, fuck," Brad moans as he cums inside her, bucking and lurching as Julie's body still quivers against him.

She moans aloud knowing he's experiencing the same pleasure she is, and her hand holds his head to hers, alongside each other. It's over, except for the after glow.

"Brad," she moans in a near whisper into the darkness.

"Yes."

Hot, spasms of pleasure surges through Brad in the beauty of the moment, being inside her as they both reach that place together, locked tight in his arms, both breathing fast and hard in sheer bliss.

They stay like that, locked together, Brad inside Julie. Neither wants to let the experience go, yet they gradually subside, as their orgasms slowly ease away like shadows chased by the sun, their tense bodies ease, relaxing and melting together in that comfortable way that only lovers can.

Julie is the first to speak.

"Brad, that was..."

"I know," he says simply. "I've never experienced anything like that."

"It was so beautiful," she replies, kissing him softly on the cheek, then she giggles. "You're still inside me."

He grins and moves his hips back a little, tilting his pelvis and as he slides out of her. Julie sighs.

"I miss it already," she murmurs.

Brad re-adjusts his hips so that he's pressed back against her again, his soft penis lying against her buttocks. As Julie snuggles her ass back into his pelvis she giggles again.

"I can feel your cum running down my skin."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I should've put a condom on but I was kinda caught in the moment," he says gently.

He feels her squeeze against him, a movement of reassurance and comfort.

"Me too, but I wouldn't change it for the world," she whispers back, kissing him once again on the cheek. "You know what people say about memories that last a lifetime?"

"This is one of them," he agrees.

"Why do you have to live so far away?" she whispers softly.

Brad knows exactly what she means. He's had girlfriends and one night stands and none of them even come close to this. Not once, and it's with a woman who he would never see again after this night.

He feels so incredibly close to her, so intimate that he has to ask.

"Julie, I wasn't going to ask, but now I have to know. What's your real name?"

She lays there in silence for a moment, then her lips turn to his ear.

"Stacy."

* * * * *

Very early this morning, before the sun rises, he looks at the pile of paperwork on his desk and rubs his eyes. It's been a really long day and only midway through what's bound to be a long week. It began with his friend Danny Packard's death two days ago and since then, the Island has been a beehive of activity getting things prepared for his funeral and the arrival of his sibling triplets.

Bradley, one of Danny's children, is arriving on the Island in about 6 hours, the girls about mid afternoon. Having just found out they are triplets, given up for adoption shortly after birth, they'll be meeting here for the very first time. On top of that, he has a burial to organize for Danny on the Island. Add in organizing supplies and planning for every contingency, it's no wonder he feels exhausted.

It's two in the morning and high time he has some stress relief. He gets up from his desk, winces at the pain in his back and moves to the door of his office, part of his home on the Island on the second floor above the clinic, and heads for the exit, moving quietly down the stairs as is his habit. Once outside he smiles. He always loves the cool breeze that caresses the Island through the night.

He turns left and takes the path down to the beach, taking a right between two large bushes on the narrow path the kitchen staff uses to bring supplies into the kitchens. A couple of turns and he's moving around the edge of the building where the Islands food is prepared and stored, which is not staffed at this time of night. He knows if anyone spots him they'd just assume he's going for his habitual late night snack, but he knows different.

He bypasses the main doors to the kitchen and enters the small courtyard that serves the dual purpose of somewhere to store the trash and somewhere the chefs and porters can sneak out to for a smoke. Casually, he glances around, and seeing no-one, he slips over to the backdoor of the pastry kitchen and enters a code in the keypad, a different code from the one normally used to open the door.

A quiet bump sounds next to one of the bins and he moves to the corner, reaches down and pulls the handle that is now protruding from the flagstone yard. A small hatch appears with a ladder heading down, barely visible in the moonlight.

He quickly slides himself into the narrow passage and closes the hidden hatch above him, seeing the dim lights illuminating the twenty three rungs below him. Reaching the bottom he turns around and punches another code into the wall and the small box beside it opens. He presses his hand to the small screen inside the box and the door beside him swings open.

He smiles in anticipation. He has a lot of catching up to do.

He enters the safe room, or as he thinks of it, his 'Bunker' where he can retreat to if the Island is ever attacked. He ignores the open plan living area and kitchen and moves straight to the door on his left, a control room where he can make contact with the outside world if need be, but his focus wasn't on the emergency facilities. He moves straight to the console housing the covert CCTV system that Danny Packard had painstakingly built in secret when the home was designed and built several years ago.

His friends words come back to him, as they always do when he looks at the setup.

"There's no point in being trapped in here. Much better to see what's going on outside. Then you retain an advantage the other side doesn't even know about. Information is power."

He smiles and moves to the large leather desk chair facing the bank of fifteen screens. Three large screens, a dozen smaller, all assigned letters from A to O. The one hundred and thirty eight cameras hidden around the island are numbered, making the system incredibly simple to operate. Simply type in the letter for the screen, followed by the camera number, hit enter and that's what you see on the screen.

The whole system is set up on a motion-activation principle, immediately discarding data that has nothing happening and that suits his purposes perfectly.

He settles his fingers on the keyboard, types A68 and hits 'Enter'. The first of the three large screens flickers into view, a camera in the bedroom of Danny's favorite assistant, Kelly. She's one of his favorites too, a hot, toned blonde with a bundle of intelligence and determination. It isn't her intellect that interests him at present, though, as he watches the live feed from her vacant bedroom, his memory providing him with hundreds of images of her sleeping in that very bed.

He feels the familiar stirring in his groin and smiles. Time to move the recording back.

His fingers find the small dial next to the keyboard, punches in the camera number and then rotates it back. The simple system allows him to review all recorded footage from that particular camera and he is viewing it in reverse.

A couple of chambermaids dart around briefly at high speed and then the footage catches up to Kelly sleeping, then undressing. The footage continues in reverse at high speed, skipping past hours of her lying still. She's been asleep for five hours or so when he sees her leap out of bed, naked, grabbed a towel, then disappears backwards into the bathroom.

He resets the dial, his left hand coming to rest on his belt and as the footage begins to play on the screen, then he unfastens his belt and loosens his trousers.

Kelly appears from the bathroom, her skin flushed from the shower, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, and as he pulls down his fly and as slides his hand in his trousers, she opens her towel.

Seeing her side on as she lifted the towel, her body taught and firm, her breasts pert, round and firm, he slips his hand around his cock, slowly stroking himself as he watched her dry herself. She moved too quickly for him though, drying herself rapidly then slipped under the sheet on her bed, settling down to go to sleep.

He frowns and punches in B69, bringing up the footage from the en-suite bathroom in Kelly's room. He punches 69 in next to the dial and rolls it back, seeing her in a high-speed blur in the shower, moving it back to play as soon as the maid appears who cleaned the bathroom earlier.

While he strokes himself in anticipation the maid finishing her work, the lighting changes and Kelly appears. Dressed only in a black thong, she walks up to the sink, her gorgeous breasts on display and as she brushes her teeth, he zooms the camera in on her breasts, stroking himself as he watches them jiggle with every motion of her arm.

"Come on, you hot bitch," he mutters. "Get in the fucking shower."

The teeth brushing continues for another minute and then she disappears off screen, so he zooms the view back out, seeing her step into the shower cubicle. The water begins immediately and he slows the footage down as she stepped out the cubicle to remove her thong. In slow motion she inserts her thumbs in her waistband and bends over, sliding the black material down her hips, thighs and finally to the floor, and with a casual flick of her foot, the thong ends up back in the bedroom.

His grip tightens on his cock. She always did this before she went in the shower. As always, he zooms in a little closer.

Kelly stands up straight and stretches, her arms rising high above her head, her breasts jutting out. He groans, licking his lips in anticipation of what comes next. Her right hand slides down over her taught, flat stomach, sliding down over her shaved skin until her middle finger makes contact with her clitoris.

"Go on, you fucking slut," he mutters, his fist pumping as he watches.

Kelly's middle finger rubs her clit up and down a couple of times, then in slow-motion, she moves it down her slit, rubs up and down once, then plunges her middle finger deep inside her pussy.

"Fuck that dirty unwashed cunt, you whore," he growls as his fist is pumping furiously on his cock now, loving what he sees on the screen.

Kelly dips her finger in and out three times and as he zoomed the view back out, he smiles wickedly as she raises the finger to her lips and sucked it into her mouth, her head tilts back.

"That's a good slut," he grunts.

She steps forward into the shower and he strokes his cock, watching the hot water sluicing down the curves of her body.

"Come on, you dirty bitch. Do it."

His fist is pumping rapidly up and down on his cock, his eyes fixated on the screen.

Kelly turns in the shower and squatted down, her back against the wall. He smiles and zooms the camera in, framing her as her legs come up and her buttocks rest on the shower floor. He can see her pussy, her asshole, tits and face and he feels his heart lift in excitement.

"Go on. Get busy."

She tilts one hip and her left hand appears under her ass, her index finger rubbing at her brown puckered hole.

"Do it, slut," he mutters.

Her right hand appears between her legs, her fingertips brushing against her clit. Her mouth is open in anticipation and he's mirroring her expression on screen. Suddenly she slides two fingers into her pussy, plunging them in deep and her body stiffens in pleasure.

He smiles.

"And now the ass, you filthy little whore."

Kelly's finger that had been rubbing gently at her ass suddenly pushed, forcing her up to the first knuckle in that tightest of places. He watches as her expression turns nasty and she pushes harder, sinking the finger in her ass, and the two in her pussy as deep as they would go. Her breathing is fast now, as intense as the expression on her face.

He realizes he's strangling his cock, his grip so tight, so he eases up the pressure a fraction and continues stroking at a frantic pace, his free hand pulling his black shirt up around his shoulders in anticipation.

Kelly begins to plunge her fingers deep inside herself, fucking both her holes at once with vigor, and his fist pumping up and down on his cock, imagining it's his cock going in and out of her ass like that.

She pauses for a second, adding a second finger to her asshole and a third to her pussy, then pushing hard, she slides them all back in again.

"Fucking filthy bitch," he snarls, knowing what is coming next, feeling his balls begin to tighten in anticipation.

Kelly's fingers are plunging in and out of her ass and pussy as hard and fast as she can physically manage and then her entire body stiffens, then her head smacks back hard against the wall of the shower as her orgasm overcomes her.

Her fingers fly out her holes, all of them going rapidly into her wide open mouth, and as he watches her suck on them, he sees her pussy twitching as she cums and her ass opening and closing in glorious, exquisite detail.

He explodes too. Hot cum splatters out of his cock onto his stomach, one spurt and a second, the remainder flopping and dripping onto his pelvis, matting his grey pubic hair, coating his hand.

Kelly's mouth closes, sucking hard on those fingers that has been deep inside her wet pussy, her tight ass, her brow furrows and her cheeks, rosy as her orgasm, wash over her.

"Fucking dirty little whore," he pants, his eyes glued to the screen as his hand fondles his sticky cock.

Kelly recovers quickly, her fingers leaving her mouth only to quickly tweak her nipples once, then she stands, rinses herself off, washes her hands and turns the shower off.

He leans in the chair, panting and grinning as she leaves the shower.

"Filthy fucking whore," he mutters.

Idly he wonders who he will stroke off to tomorrow morning. Over the last decade, his habit sat him in this chair and made him stroke off to movie stars, musicians, models, hundreds of gorgeous women unknowingly recorded in their most intimate of moments while visiting the Island as guests of Danny, and he has them all recorded and stored. All for his personal pleasure.

"Maybe the Doctor," he mutters. "Or maybe I'll get that slut to dress up for me again... And some new pussies are arriving soon though."

He smiles, having seen the files of the three triplets. The two girls are hot. He's looking forward to seeing both of them in the most exquisite of detail.

He carefully lowers his shirt over his cum-splattered stomach then fastens up his trousers and belt, trapping the cooling semen against his skin. Carefully, he stands up and walks to the exit, feeling it oozing down his stomach. He smiles, loving the feeling, the scent of his own cum, especially if he bumps into anyone outside. He deliberately holds them in conversation, just to see if they notice the smell. Several did, none of them figured it out though, but they all know he's a pervert.

He leaves the bunker and enters the kitchen, taking the sandwich that the chef always leaves out for him, munching on it as he walks back to his apartment above the clinic.