South Seas Seduction

by Anita Kidesu

  The men were becoming tanned and buffed from their hard work, and more and more her young body reacted to their presence. Like last night, her sex clenched and her nipples grew hard. She’d heard stories from the girls at school, especially after vacation when her classmates came back with tales of adventures with their boyfriends. Visions of one of the men running his tongue over her breasts made them ache with longing.

  Did they sense her growing feelings for them? Was that why they were so quiet? Would they think less of her for being turned on by someone not her husband?

  “Toby and Steve are going to go fishing today,” Jack finally said, leaning back in his chair.

  “Are you and I going hunting?” Emma asked, rising. “I’ll get my gun.”

  He put a hand on her arm and stopped her. “No, we’re not going hunting. You and I are going exploring.”

  She looked down at his long fingers on her arm and repressed shivers of delight. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Jack smiled. “No. I’m sorry if I’m worrying you, but I want to talk to you alone about a couple of things.”

  “Oh. Okay. Let me throw some things in a bag.”

  A few minutes later she came out of the plane to find Toby and Steve already gone. “You sure nothing’s wrong?”

  Jack picked up a backpack containing the canteens and snacks. “Yes.” He swung the backpack over his shoulders. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to hike around the lake and search for trails to the other side.”

  “Why don’t we follow the beach?” Emma suggested.

  Jack stopped walking toward the lake trail and turned back. “Good idea.”

  After walking up the beach for an hour, past the first trail they’d taken up to the lake and around a bend, they found a small cove, where they stopped for a break.

  Jack lay on his side, his hand propping up his head. He stared out at the ocean while he threw some nuts they had found into his mouth.

  Emma sat in the warm sand, watching his movements, wondering what he was thinking. She leaned back on her elbows and let the warm ocean breeze wash across her face.

  “Emma?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I need to talk to you, but I need to show you something first.” He sat up and crossed his legs. “You’re married, right?”

  She rolled her eyes and wiggled her wedding ring at him.

  “You value those vows, right?”

  “I was taught a vow was sacred and should never be broken.”

  “Shit,” Jack muttered.

  Emma frowned. “Why do you ask?”

  “I need to show you a letter we found on one of the hijackers. Toby and Steve agreed you should read it.”

  “What kind of letter?”

  Jack reached into the backpack and opened a folded piece of paper. “A letter that may change your feelings about Jean Paul and your marriage.”

  Emma brushed sand from her shorts. “Truthfully, I have no feelings for Jean Paul. My parents made me marry him.” She glanced at Jack with tear-filled eyes. “The way he treated me the first few days, I think marriage to him will be miserable.”

  “After you read it, tell me what you think.”

  A small smile played across her face. “You have my attention now, Jack.” She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Give me the letter.”

  “Promise?”

  She hesitated a moment. “I promise. The letter, please.”

  He passed the wrinkled sheet to her and leaned back on his hands, watching the ocean while she read. A pair of parrots flitted from tree to tree, eating ripe red berries. A red crab skittered from rock to rock. Emma’s lips went tight, and her eyes closed to mere slits as she read:

  Sebastian, my love,

  Enclosed is down payment for the job we discussed. Emma will be leaving Australia on the 25th on a plane heading for Europe. Flight plans are also enclosed. I want proof she’s dead. Bring me her ring finger with her wedding ring attached. I can hock the ring later. After she is dead, we can take care of her family. Make sure all evidence is destroyed. Leave no witnesses. If everything goes as planned, you will receive an additional bonus of $50,000. Remember, don’t tell anyone Jean Paul is dead and I took his place.

  With Jean Paul out of the picture, I don’t have to live under the thumb of my cousin any longer. No one needs to know the marriage to the bitch isn’t valid. Once all of them are dead, their money will be mine and ours. I look forward to being together again after my period of “grieving” is over and starting our life as planned—but this time we’ll be rich. We can go anywhere we want, away from family and prying eyes. See you on the 28th.

  All my love, Francois

  Emma’s chest tightened. Tears slid down her face as she worried her bottom lip. She ignored the paper when it fell to her lap. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what this letter meant.

  “Emma-girl? Say something.”

  Her head snapped up. “I don’t understand. This Francois tried to have me killed. Why?” She swiped at the tears, sniffled and ran a finger under her nose.

  “I don’t know, Emma, or how this Sebastian found out your flight was switched.”

  She gazed at her large diamond wedding ring. A hiccoughed sob came from her. “Does this mean I’m not married at all, or just not married to Jean Paul? Am I married to this,” she lifted the paper and looked at the bottom of the letter, “Francois?”

  Jack scooted beside her and put an arm around her narrow shoulders. “Shh. Sebastian is dead, and you’re alive. I do think if Francois took Jean Paul’s place, he committed fraud and your marriage isn’t valid.”

  Emma grimaced at the letter and crumpled the paper into a ball.

  Jack grabbed her hand. “Don’t ruin it, Emma.”

  “Why?”

  “If we get back to the States, you can use what he wrote against him.”

  She passed the letter to him.

  He opened the ball, pressed the paper against his leg, folded it, and slipped it into the backpack. “What are you thinking?”

  How did one respond to that? Good heavens, she’d had sex with a man she wasn’t married to? Even in today’s world where it seemed people had sex outside of marriage all the time, she believed in her vows. And now?

  He took a canteen from the pack, took off the cap and pressed it to her lips. “Here, drink.” A frown creased his forehead over her lack of response.

  How does one go about explaining how she was raised? Yes, her parents had money to give her things she needed, except what she’d wanted the most—their time and love. Her earliest memories were of them telling her not to cry, not to laugh too loud, and not to speak unless spoken to. But most of all, not to bring shame to the family name.

  “I was trained at an early age to hold in my emotions.” She sighed, her body shuddering. “Don’t let others know what I’m thinking or feeling. A person can’t let perceived enemies use emotions against us.”

  “It’s not good to keep everything bottled up, Emma.”

  Her lips turned up in a small smile. “Well, that’s how I was raised. Hard to change now.” She took the canteen from him and sipped. Maybe it was time to break loose to say and do all the things she was not allowed to. The hell with the consequences. “I do have a question for you, though.” She handed the container back.

  “Ask away.”

  Emma thought for a minute. “Why did Francois marry me if he already had a lover?”

  Jack frowned. “The letter made it sound as if he simply wanted your money.”

  “Did Toby and Steve read the letter?”

  “Yes. We’re all worried about how this will affect you.” He placed the canteen in the bag and removed two bananas. He peeled one and handed it to her, then peeled one for himself. He nibbled at the tip of his banana.

  Her nipples puckered as she thought about his teeth nipping at them. She moved her attention to the roaring surf and finished her banana. This ob
session with the men and sex was getting to her.

  “So what are you thinking?” Jack asked, thankfully interrupting her thoughts.

  She wiped her hands on her shorts and turned to him. “You said earlier you had some things to talk about. Besides the letter, what else was there?”

  Jack stared at Emma. How could a person simply ignore the fact that someone wanted her dead? Was the woman made of stone? “That’s it? You don’t need to discuss the letter?”

  “No. I’ll process it in my own time and in my own way. Right now I’m curious about what else you wanted.”

  Jack shook his head. “You sure?”

  “I told you how I was raised. I’m sure.”

  He swiped his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Okay. Here goes. Do you like Toby, Steve, and me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you trust us?”

  “Yes,” Emma answered, a crease forming between her brows. “Is that why you brought me all the way out here, to ask if I liked and trusted you guys?”

  Jack cleared his throat. “Well, no.” He patted the ground next to him. “Come here.”

  “Why?”

  “Please, I won’t do anything.” He smiled and cleared his throat again when Emma complied.

  “What?” Emma asked, turning on her side, facing him, not realizing she was giving him a good view of a breast as her top sagged. She gazed up at him, her eyes innocent, making it harder for him to broach the subject.

  “Close your eyes and listen. Don’t say anything unless I ask you and don’t get upset until you hear everything. Okay?”

  Emma frowned. “Okay, if you say so.”

  “What are your feelings on sex?” Emma didn’t answer for so long he thought she had fallen asleep. When he was going to rouse her, she answered.

  “It hurts.”

  “Hurts?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Jack rolled to his back and watched a bank of white clouds momentarily block the sun. How was a person supposed to respond? Here he was hoping she liked sex so much, she would be willing to be with all three of them. Her answer threw him for a loop. “It shouldn’t,” he responded quietly.

  “Really?”

  “No. It’s supposed to be pleasurable for both men and women.”

  “I hated it with Jean Paul, I mean Francois.” She sifted sand through her fingers and then threw a handful on the ground. “I don’t know what to call him.”

  He hesitated, thinking of the letter. “Let’s call him Francois since it’s what he calls himself in the letter.” He waited for her to nod. “Now, let me ask you this, since you’re married, you’re aware of men’s needs. Right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He told you about his needs and desires, didn’t he?”

  “He didn’t tell me anything. He didn’t seem interested and when he was…well, he hurt me and got mad.”

  Jack cringed at her sniffles. What she told him was obviously difficult. “I’m sorry, Emma. Sounds like your Francois was only concerned about his needs and not yours.” Jack searched for a way to find out what she did know. “Okay, so did you learn anything about men and women in school?”

  “Some.”

  “Good,” he said with relief.

  “But I went to a private girl’s school, run by nuns.”

  Oh shit. “Nuns?”

  “Yes, nuns.”

  “I’m afraid to ask, but what did they teach you about sex?”

  “Well we learned when a man and woman fall in love they have special feelings for each other. Once they’re married, they can make love.”

  “I suppose they stressed the part about being married, didn’t they?”

  “Yes. Most of the girls thought that was silly. All of us knew at least one girl who got pregnant out of wedlock. The nuns tried to make it sound as if you couldn’t get pregnant unless you were married. And one should never, ever have sex unless you were married.”

  He picked up a leaf from the ground and stripped it until only the stem remained. “So, besides the few times with Francois, your knowledge of men is pretty slim?”

  Emma continued sifting sand from hand to hand. “The nuns searched our mail and screened our books, so there weren’t too many ways to learn at school. Except for what some of the girls said and some of the stuff they came up with that was too crazy to be believed.”

  “What about college?”

  “After high school, I was sent to a ‘finishing school’ run by…”

  “Let me guess…”

  “Nuns.”

  Jack ran a hand through his hair. This was getting tougher and tougher. “What about TV and the Internet? What about books? Surely you’ve seen, heard, and read things there?”

  “Just like boarding schools, the college took our cell phones and monitored the Internet. Like at home, there were no televisions, either.”

  “Hard to believe that’s possible.”

  “Tell me about it.” Emma glanced at his crotch. “So what about men’s needs, Jack?”

  Maybe she wasn’t as naïve as she acted. He tried to ignore his swelling cock. “Well, most men have strong sexual needs. They like sex. They think about sex, they want to have sex—a lot.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “What’s wrong is if he doesn’t get sex with a woman in a long time, he becomes frustrated, and taking care of himself just doesn’t relieve the frustrations.”

  Emma sat up, her forehead creased in confusion. “Taking care of himself? What do you mean?”

  “Geez, Emma, don’t you know anything?”

  “Obviously not, but since you started the conversation, you need to finish it. You had better be prepared to answer all my questions—in detail.”

  Jack swallowed around the lump in his throat. He had been hoping she’d had at least some knowledge of sex. He couldn’t imagine what Steve and Toby would think.

  “Well, when a man isn’t with a woman, I mean, when a man gets horny and needs sexual release and no woman is around, he takes matters into his own hands.”

  “How?”

  “Well, he gets an erection.”

  “Is it painful?”

  “Is what painful?”

  “The man’s erection. I wondered because Francois would get so angry with me and then…”

  Jack didn’t care to hear any more about the man who tried to have her killed. He turned to his side and watched her. “Sometimes if he doesn’t get to come for a long time…”

  “Come?”

  Jack ran a hand over his face. For someone as sexually active as he was, or had been, he’d never been in a position to discuss the mechanics of the act with a woman. This was, without a doubt, the most embarrassing conversation he’d ever had. Why couldn’t he simply ask her to have sex with them and be done with it? But no, she asks a zillion questions. Besides, all this talk of erections was giving him a boner. “You know, ejaculate, have an orgasm.”

  “What is an orgasm like?” Emma asked, getting a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, something she never experienced with Jean Paul.

  “Geez, Emma, I can’t describe to you what it’s like, except it feels damn good.”

  Emma wrapped her arms around her knees, turned her head toward Jack, and rested her cheek on her knees. “Can women come, have an orgasm?” She watched as a rosy hue rose up his face. She was beginning to enjoy making stalwart, in-charge Jack flustered. She wondered how long she could keep it up before he threw a fit. Even though she’d never experienced an orgasm herself, she’d heard enough about them from the girls in school.

  “If they’re lucky, yes.”

  “So tell me more about men taking matters into their own hands when a woman isn’t around.”

  Jack sighed. “A man likes his, his…

  “Penis?”

  “Yes penis, rubbed, squeezed, sucked on.”

  She bit back a laugh and wrinkled her nose. His face was getting redder. The man must really be in dire str
aits for him to answer her questions. Of course she’d heard of blow jobs and about men jerking off, but didn’t believe women did that to men. “Sucked on? Sounds disgusting.”

  “Well it’s not. Men like women to suck on their penis. And some women like to do it.”

  “Do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Do you like women to suck your penis?”

  “I thought I told you not to say anything.”

  Emma smiled. “Too bad, so sad. I find this conversation fascinating, and you need to answer my questions. My last question was, do you like women to suck on your penis?”

  He flopped onto his back and threw an arm across his eyes. “Yes, I like women to suck on my penis.”

  “Okay, back to the man’s hand thing.”

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists. “So, if a woman isn’t available and he needs release, a man can use his own hand to make himself ejaculate.”

  Emma eyed the bulge in Jack’s shorts and smiled. “Can you show me?”

  “What?” he yelled, sitting so fast she was sure a gallon of sand had slid into his shorts.

  “I asked if you would show me.”

  “You mean now?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think so, Emma.”

  She pointed to his pants. “Your penis is bigger and you said this could be painful. I’m twenty-two years old, can speak four languages, converse with heads of state, plan a dinner for one hundred, tell you the names of all the presidents, kings or powers in all the countries of the world, was married but…I’ve never seen a man’s penis.”

  “But you and Francois…”

  “He never turned the lights on, so I’ve never seen a naked man. You can be my first, Jack.”

  “Son of a bitch, Emma. I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Toby and Steve would get angry.”

  “Why?”

  Jack dug his hands into the sand. “Because they’re as horny as I am,” he yelled. He stood and paced. “They sent me out here to talk to you about men’s needs. We know you’re married, except now you’re not, but we can’t handle watching you day after day, flaunting your gorgeous body in front us. Bending over, practically shoving your tight little ass in our faces. Taunting us with those long legs of yours. Your nipples poking out through those tops you wear…”