by Jools Louise
Lurching forward, I grabbed the cup from his hands, glaring at him as I inhaled the first sip of life-giving java juice.
“Max tried to drown me,” I said, sniggering to myself as Max yelped in protest at the blatant lie.
“Ha!” Max retorted, slapping my ass lightly as he pushed me into a vacant chair. “You tried to suffocate me with your puss—” His reply was cut off with a pained yelp as I flicked out my hand and pinched his butt sharply.
“Sweetness, it isn’t nice to assault the crew on your first day here.” Jackson was laughing at our antics, his eyes sparkling.
“Oh yeah? When should I assault them?” I retorted, feeling slightly more human as the caffeine hit the spot.
Laughter resounded as the men gathered around the pool enjoyed the banter.
I looked over, studying the five strangers. They all smiled at me as they studied me right back, their eyes running over me with obvious approval.
“Hi,” I greeted them in turn, and their smiles widened as my nervousness returned.
One by one, each got up from where they were sitting, smiles gentling as they gave me a friendly kiss on my cheek and introduced themselves before returning to sit down again.
Marcus, Dean, Raphael, Louis, and Michael or the “crew” were all really nice. Each was gorgeously hunky, but they were respectful and again there was no hint of revulsion when they looked at me, no sniggers or sly glances over my less than sleek frame or the fact that I had practically admitted to having sex with Max just a few minutes ago.
They didn’t leer at me, simply gave me a friendly kiss and a smile which helped me to relax slightly.
A plate was put in front of me, a couple of American-style pancakes, a selection of delicious looking strawberries, pineapple and mango slices plus a bowl of yogurt, another of whipped cream, and a small jug of what looked like maple syrup.
I realised I was starving, and giving a hum of pleasure, I thanked Caleb with a smile as he sprawled next to me after serving my breakfast.
“Hey, how come I only got a snarl and a pinch on my ass, and Caleb gets a thank you and a smile?” Max sounded indignant.
“You woke the sleeping tigress, Max, before she had her first shot of caffeine,” Jackson replied, laughing as I curled my lip at him before digging into my breakfast greedily.
“I even washed her back, and this is the thanks I get,” Max said with a sigh, shaking his head in pretended irritation.
“My back, my front, inside and out, but you forgot to heat the water, luv,” I retorted, shuddering as I remembered the cool torrent pelting down on me earlier.
“Yes, but I soon heated up your puss—Ouch, dammit!” Max yelped as Jackson delivered a slap to the back of Max’s blond head, and everyone around the pool burst out laughing at the exchange.
“Good help is so hard to find.” I sighed into my coffee.
“Yeah, but hard help, is soooo good to find!” Max retorted wickedly, slapping his hand against the bulging crotch of his brief swimwear and I choked as he shook his cock at me teasingly.
Again, laughter reverberated as Max avoided another head slap from Jackson and before too long, everyone joined in slamming insults at Max, who gave as good as he got, and I laughed along with the others as I finished my breakfast hungrily, enjoying the teasing repartee and their easy camaraderie. Although I knew none were related by blood, they were like brothers as they bantered back and forth.
As I finished eating, slurping down a second cup of my brew of coffee, I sighed, lifting my face and enjoying the feel of the warm breeze caressing my skin. The scent of the blooms was heady and for the first time I felt free, like the walls which held my inhibitions in check were loosening, ha! Judging by the fact I had joined the mile high club en route to the resort with the delicious Max, who I could quite easily fall for, plus being in a relationship with Jackson, who I had thought was gay for years but who was apparently firmly in the “bisexual” column, I would say my inhibitions had fled quite a while ago. Must have been the rum!
Back in England, there were certain unspoken rules to live by, and to break those taboos was to leave yourself wide open to judgments, bullying, and name-calling. Society loves to put labels on people so that they can put you in a box. “Slut,” “whore,” and “slag,” were a few which could be placed on me for having sex with two different men within hours of each other. My little sexual excursion as I orgasmed between the delectable Caleb and my best friend Jackson would have people cringing at my wanton behaviour.
That’s not to say people don’t fantasise about having three gorgeous men sucking and licking and fucking you to oblivion, merely that people’s inhibitions due to society’s “rules” prevent them from overtly enjoying sexual freedom.
Jackson had said that he abhorred labels, not liking to be called “gay” or “hetero” or “bi,” merely accepting that he was attracted to different individuals, male or female. He appeared to fully accept his desires and I wondered why he had waited so long to let me know he was attracted to me.
I snorted, laughing at myself as I answered the question. Ten years ago his long-term partner was killed suddenly and I knew that for two years he had grieved, not looking at anyone else. After the grief, he had immersed himself in work, travelling a lot, which had left no time for anything more than brief flings and one-night stands.
In between bouts of sizzling lovemaking last night, he had told me how he had never seen me as a fling. He had spent a long time grieving, and then when he was ready to move on, he had known I wasn’t ready. He had known me since before I was promoted to manager, had seen the low self-esteem which had kept me from moving up the career ladder, but also saw the ambition to succeed which had led to me studying for a business management degree whilst working full time.
We had talked several times about “biting the bullet” and not letting others’ dictates influence what we wanted for ourselves. His actual words were “You can be anything you want to be, and fuck anyone who tries to keep you in a cage…” At the time I had just split from my last boyfriend, a man called Dave who, whilst on the surface was a kind and caring individual, had hidden a darker and certainly more malicious streak.
Dave had at first been attentive and “helpful,” when I shopped for clothes and food, and had been fairly good in bed, although not very adventurous. After a while, his criticisms had become more open, and he had commented about my eating habits, my weight, my clothes sense, my hairstyle, and my passion in bed. I enjoyed sex, and liked to try different things, which he saw as me being a slut. The final straw had been overhearing his cutting monologue at the local pub with his friends. He had laughed as he told his friends how I acted like a bitch in heat, which he said was quite fitting since I was such a dog to look at.
He had seen me as he uttered that last insult, but knew our relationship was over when I tipped a large tray of spaghetti and meatballs into his lap, followed by a jug of some green cocktail mix. I should have known any man drinking such a bilious brew would have “asshole” running through their veins.
I had cried into Jackson’s shoulder, laughing when he offered to make the guy a eunuch. His observation was that Dave had definite issues with insecurity and felt inadequate when dealing with a passionate, beautiful, and sexy woman and that Dave’s obviously puny self-image was only matched by his equally puny dick.
While I had laughed along with Jackson, Dave’s attitude had left me wounded. The inner scars were the hardest to deal with and I had shut myself off from men, consoling myself with solitary nights curled up with Häagen-Dazs and a sexy book. My vibrator had come in very handy, and I had fantasised about finding a man who was not bound by his own insecurities.
I felt a kiss against my mouth, smiling as I tasted strawberries and coffee and Jackson’s unique flavour all blended together. Opening for him, I hummed in pleasure, eyes opening to lock onto his liquid brown ones as his tongue dipped inside and duelled with mine.
Pulling back, he held out his
hand and invited me to walk with him.
“How would you like to explore a bit?” he asked, and tugged me to my feet.
A strong, muscular arm wrapped around my waist, his long fingers caressing the bare strip of flesh between the sarong and bikini top. I shivered, feeling my nipples perk up.
“I don’t see any other guests around,” I commented as we said good-bye to the guys around the pool and began to walk along a winding path through a lush jungle of exotic flora.
Jackson seemed to hesitate before he answered, then seemed to come to a decision. He stopped, resting his hands on my hips as he turned so we were facing each other.
“I told you this was a new resort I was checking out, and it is.” He seemed almost nervous and I frowned, curious. “Doug and I acquired this place about fifteen years ago, and we began developing the infrastructure since it had been abandoned about twenty years before.” Jackson’s hands moved up to rub my shoulders and he paused for a moment, lost in thought.
“You own this island?” I asked, eyes wide as I stared at my friend, just beginning to realise that there was a lot I didn’t know about this man.
Jackson flinched, looking almost embarrassed at my question, his eyes flickering away before coming back and staring intently into mine.
“When you asked if I had won the lottery, you were nearly right. Doug was the one who won big, but at a Las Vegas casino—he played poker and won a really big hand, which netted him a fortune. He invested in some real estate and bought this island. It was all aboveboard and kosher. Doug and I wanted to make this our home, not just a business venture. We both were very successful. Our investments made a lot of money. I was in the military when I was younger, then trained as a counsellor. I am a trained psychotherapist, and both Doug and I wanted to develop El Santuario into a place for people to heal from various traumas.”
“A therapist?” I was incredulous, since although I had always loved his self-confidence, there was nothing to suggest that he had been a soldier. I probably should have guessed he was a therapist of some kind, as he was very easy to talk to, and had many times helped me to face my insecurities, gently facilitating our conversations so that I reached a conclusion which helped me to move forward.
“I worked at gathering intelligence about different countries that were a threat to NATO and the rest of the world. I don’t want to bore you with details, but suffice to say, my job was classified and I spent a lot of time travelling to various hot spots. My job could be quite dangerous, and along the way I was able to help a lot of people who had done or seen things which were traumatic. I trained as a therapist after I left the military, invested some money, and hey presto!”
I was silent, my mind racing as I looked at a man I had been friends with for ten years, who had cried when Doug had been killed and who had been my rock when I needed a shoulder to cry on.
“Is that how you met your crew?” I asked, processing his revelations.
“I’ve seen things which made me want to weep, and each one of the crew have their own stories. I met them over the course of my life, and have been friends with them. We are all close, and they are like brothers to me. We bonded through friendship. We are all bisexual and have shared much together, both good times and very bad times.” Jackson’s brow furrowed as though his memories still pained him. I reached up, cupping his face with my hands, trying to comfort him. He smiled sweetly, his eyes softening, and he brought one of my hands to his lips, kissing my palm softly.
“This island is a sanctuary. In the military you follow orders and freedom of expression and speech is frowned upon. All the men you’ve met have their own reasons for needing to heal. They came to me wounded, and we all became good friends. We are lovers, too. Does that bother you?” He looked concerned, as though frightened that this would be a deal breaker for me.
I thought about it, as I contemplated Jackson having sex with men. It wasn’t something I had dwelled on. Then an image came into my naughty brain, and I shivered at the thought of watching his gorgeous frame writhing with another hot stud, lost in sexual bliss as they fucked and sucked each other. The thought was definitely sexy, turning me on big time, rather than repulsing me. Huh. Who knew?
Hugging Jackson close and resting my head against his broad chest, I gave him my answer.
“I think a bunch of sexy studs riding sexy cocks sounds downright…sexy!” I heard the low hum of pleasure rumble through him as his hands moved to cup my ass and pulled me tighter against his hard frame. “Maybe I can watch…or better yet, maybe they’ll let me join in.” I kissed the side of his neck, licking at the light coating of sweat glistening on his tanned skin, humming with approval as he shuddered.
His gaze met mine, eyes hot with desire as he continued to talk about his crew.
“I’ve worked with all of them at one time or another, and when they asked for or needed help, I gave them a place to mend. Some had physical wounds, but mostly it’s the mental scars which need to heal. All have helped to rebuild this island from a military base into a tropical resort. They each have their own story, which is theirs to tell…later.”
The last words were punctuated by a light kiss on top of my head and I sank into the embrace, absorbing the warmth of his body, allowing the heat to seep into my bones. I turned my head, placing a light kiss on the firm muscle of his pecs, my hands moving in light strokes over the broad expanse of his back before alighting on the tight rounded mounds of his ass.
One of his hands gripped my chin and I tilted my face up to his, moaning as his hungry mouth opened, sealing our lips together as he feasted with insatiable greed. His hips against mine moved slightly and his hitched me up so that the massive ridge of flesh between his legs ground against the soft, heated mound between mine. I lifted up higher, one leg going around his waist as I squirmed against him.
He moaned against my mouth, sucking on my tongue before his greedy mouth slid along my neck. My head fell back, my back arching as his lips found the upper mounds of my breasts. Licking the soft flesh, he gripped the bikini top in his teeth, pulling it aside to reveal the achingly swollen nipples begging for his touch.
Growling, he latched onto one, sucking hard on the hard tip before opening wider and sucking half of my breast into his hungry mouth. I clung to him, both legs around his waist now, writhing against him as he switched from one breast to the other, suckling, biting, devouring until I was a babbling mess.
His hips hitched up against me, the material of our swimwear preventing full penetration, but the erotic friction had us both moaning before we both came with gasping suddenness. My bikini bottoms were soaked as my juices saturated the material, and I could feel the spreading mess of cum as he jetted into his trunks. My hands clutched around his neck, panting as we both trembled in the aftermath before our breathing returned to normal.
Sliding down his torso, I placed both feet weakly on the ground, still holding him to steady myself. I gave a giggle as I saw that his abdomen was smeared with a mixture of our cum, his swimsuit not managing to contain the heavy spurting of his seed.
Following my gaze, he chuckled, swiping one long finger into the mess before bringing it to my mouth and I sucked the cream like a hungry cat. My breath caught, and I shivered at the erotic display. Copying his move, I dipped my own fingers into the slick moisture and let him taste his own cum. His head came down, growling as he kissed me hard, and he tasted himself. Staring at me, his mouth swollen from kissing me, his gaze was intense, the expression in his deep brown eyes a mixture of desire and nervousness.
He cupped my face tenderly.
“I want you to stay here, luv. I’ve been planning to leave England for a while, and have been spending time selling off most of my business concerns. I still want to open this as a resort. Your villa is in the resident’s village, as each of the crew has their own space to relax. I’ll show you the guest area soon, and you can see what we’ve done to the place.
I was stunned, not knowing what to say. In one p
art of my befuddled brain I questioned why he would want short, dumpy, plain old me here in the first place. I had always felt like I could be myself around Jackson, having fancied him for ages but never thinking he could be attracted to me, too. Our lovemaking for the past few weeks had been fantastic, and he had made me feel sexy and loved. Now I was on a tropical island, surrounded by a bunch of studs that all looked at me with desire and approval, and I was beginning to lose my inhibitions, my naturally passionate nature slowly revealing itself. It was like bandages over a deep wound, gradually unravelling as the wound healed, letting in the sunlight and fresh air to heal me fully.
But he was asking me to stay here, to help set up and run a resort on a South Pacific island surrounded by a group of sun-tanned, sexy and extremely well-endowed men, and I was hesitant to believe my good fortune.
My first instinct was to say hell yes! The thought of living a new life in such paradise was energizing, but my practical side wouldn’t let me be too impulsive. I had to end my life in England first. I had to resign from my job and sell my apartment before I could settle here.
With a start, I realised my decision was already made. I just had to tie up a few loose ends first.
“So, you think I might like to leave dirty old England to help run a tropical island resort which specialises in healing injured souls, while surrounded by a bunch of extremely sexy, studly men who I would definitely like to investigate further?” He nodded, his grin hesitant.
“When would you like me to start?” I asked huskily, and he growled in relief, kissing me again as he held me close and we made out for quite some time before realising we had only walked about two hundred yards from the pool and I was supposed to be on a guided tour. Not surprising that we were distracted since our libidos were running rampant.
Moving off, relaxed and flirty, I was introduced to the place I was about to call home.