Island Paradise

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It’s an ill wind that blows no good. Charlie, a mate of mine, came off his bike and broke his leg in two places. He was going to be in plaster for eight weeks. What was worse he’d already paid a non-refundable deposit on a trip to the Gold Coast for a week in sunny Queensland, with nothing to do but have fun.

Being a good sport, and having a holiday due, I checked with my boss. Things were slack, so he told me to grab the ticket and have fun. So I bought the trip off Charlie. At a slightly discounted price, I’ll admit, but still a reasonable deal for both of us. Then I had to break the news to my parents.

Now I’m twenty and still living at home. By choice, because it makes economic good sense. Only paying board, I was squirrelling away a nice little nest egg, and I already had enough for a deposit on my own place.

The drawback of living at home is that parents still think they control all aspects of your life and can get a bit toey when you do something unexpected, like taking a holiday in Queensland. I arrived home that evening and broke the bad news about Charley and the good news about my trip to Queensland and waited for the recriminations.

To my surprise they were actively interested, checking what dates I’d be gone and where I’d be staying. Then they were congratulating me, telling me I’d have a wonderful time. I’m all like sure, thanks, and wondering what the hell?

That’s when they dropped me in it.

“Denise is going to the Gold Coast, too, and she’s on the same package you’re on,” enthused Mother. “Her parents have been real worried about it. There’s no telling what sort of trouble a young woman can get into all alone in a place like that. We’ll be able to tell her parents that you’re going along and will be only too glad to keep an eye on her.”

Denise is what is known as a friend of the family. My parents adore her. She’s eighteen, pretty and popular, and a walking menace. If anyone can cause trouble in the most innocent way, she can. I’ve had the job of pulling her out of scrapes for years. I swear, if Queensland knew what was on the way they’d close the state for a while.

Here, of course, is where I’d outsmarted myself. I’d paid Charley for the ticket immediately. This was so that when my parents objected I’d be able to say I’d already paid. They would have still grumbled, but wouldn’t let the money go to waste. So now I was stuck.

Not that Denise was exactly enamoured of the idea that I was going on the same trip. I pointed out rather bluntly that I would be quite happy to keep out of her way as long as she promised to keep out of mine. She just sniffed and pointed out that she didn’t get in people’s way. Not like some she could mention.

We arrived at the Gold Coast almost without incident. Somehow or other, the tour guide had got the impression that I was Denise’s keeper, so whenever trouble loomed she sought me out. Denise was puzzled by this at first. Absolutely livid when she found out why. I denied all knowledge and suggested she speak to her parents about it.

Once we were settled on the Gold Coast I was able to ignore Denise, which compliment she returned. Unfortunately, being on the same package meant we had a number of common perks. One of these was a boat ride on the second day, taking us cruising and stopping at some of the islands to explore and swim.

We had lunch at one of these islands and were then allowed to go and explore. We were given firm reminders of the time the boat left and told to please be at the dock in a timely manner. Anyone who missed the boat would be stuck until the next day.

I looked around the island and then went for a swim at one of the beaches. Getting back to shore I checked the time and was surprised to find it was a lot earlier than I thought. I still had well over an hour before I had to be back at the dock.

I was strolling along the shore when I almost tripped over Denise, sunbaking. Topless. I have to admit, she had a great pair. She saw me approaching and hastily put her top on.

“Pervert,” she snapped.

“Uh-huh. That’s me,” I agreed. “Don’t be too long. You won’t want to miss the boat.”

“Plenty of time,” Denise said airily. “You should be thanking me. If it hadn’t been for me you’d have been back an hour early and just sitting twiddling your thumbs waiting.”

I was once riding a bike downhill when someone threw a stick and it shot through the spokes of the front wheel. Ripped out most of the spokes and sent the bike, and me, into a crazy somersault. The Antalya Escort churning stomach I had at the time was very much the same as the churning stomach I had now.

I looked at my watch. Fifty minutes to boat time and I was five minutes away.

“What did you do, Denise?” I asked, not really wanting the answer.

“I saw your stuff while you were swimming and I was looking at your watch. It was an hour out. You forgot Daylight Savings ended last night. If you used a smart phone like me, instead of that old watch, you’d have had the correct time automatically. Anyway, I adjusted it for you.”

“Denise, your watch is on Melbourne time, yes?”

“D-uh, of course. The Gold Coast is on the same timeline.”

“True, except during daylight savings. Queensland doesn’t do the Daylight Savings thing. Off-hand, I’d say we’ve missed the boat and I’m going to have to kill you and bury your body somewhere on this nice island paradise.”

We had indeed missed the boat. All things considered, no big deal. I had my bag with me and in it I had some energy bars and a large bottle of water. The boat would pass by again tomorrow and we’d have out lift home. That’s always assuming we weren’t missed. If we were they’d probably trace back along the route and find us. Or another boat might pull on.

I’d noticed a small cabin earlier, and I assumed that people did overnight on the island on a regular basis.

I wandered back in the direction of the cabin, Denise trailing along behind me, yapping and complaining. The whole thing was everyone’s fault but hers. Mine, for not getting her back to the boat in time, the boat’s crew for not seeing we were missing, even the Queensland government came in for their share of abuse for not having daylight savings. We’d been in Queensland for two days and she’d never noticed her phone was an hour out to local time. Go figure.

Finding the cabin I checked it out. No lock. Just walk in. A table, couple of chairs, a pair of bunk beds. A lantern, some tinned food, a small gas stove, matches and a tap. Apparently there was a water tank attached to hold rain water. All the castaway needed until a boat came past.

I was satisfied that we’d survive without any trouble. This is assuming that I didn’t strangle Denise, and if she didn’t stop carping at me I would have to in sheer self-defence.

“Denise,” I said, when I’d finally had enough, “will you kindly just shut up. The whole mess is your fault. Deal with it. We’ll just catch the boat when it comes past tomorrow or hitch a ride on another one if one comes past.”

I turned to leave the cabin, figuring I might as well go swimming again, and got hit by a handful of seashells Denise had been holding.

“OK,” I snapped. “Enough is enough. That was just plain childish. You want to act like a child, I’ll treat you like a child.”

I grabbed one of the chairs and plunked myself down on it, at the same time snagging Denise’s arm and yanking her towards me. She was over my knee before she realised what was going on.

Denise was only wearing her bikini. She hadn’t bother with dressing before rushing to the dock, just stuffed her clothes in her bag. As she landed across my lap I was amused (and interested) to note that in her hurry to put on her top, when I caught her topless, she hadn’t tied it properly. It came loose and dangled, as did her breasts.

Her squeal of protest was lost as my hand landed hard on her bottom. Then she really started squealing. Half a dozen good spanks and I was prepared to listen to her apology. I paused the spanking.

“Do you have something to say?” I asked. “Like an apology, maybe?”

Apparently not.

“You bastard. How dare you? I will not be treated like a child, damn you?

“What, I should treat you like a rational adult?” I jeered at her.

“Yes, damn you.”

If that’s what she wanted.

I promptly peeled her bikini bottom down and resumed the spanking on her bare bottom. Her squalling rose to new levels. After another half dozen spanks I paused again.

“What is your problem now? I’m spanking you in an adult fashion. And I’m still waiting for an apology.”

“Don’t spank me at all. And put my bathers back on. You shouldn’t be looking at me when I’m naked. And what do I have to apologise for?”

“Many, many things. Shall we start with throwing those shells at me like an unruly brat?”

“Alright, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

“There. You see. That wasn’t too hard, Antalya Escort Bayan was it? Now while we’re on the island I want you to try and behave yourself. In exchange, I’ll try not to spank you. What could be fairer than that?”

I swung her back onto her feet. Poor woman didn’t know what to try to cover first. Her breasts or her pussy. She finished up turning her back to me while she straightened her bikini.

“I’m going swimming. There doesn’t seem to be much else to do. Care to come along?”

Truce established we swam and sunbathed for the rest of the afternoon. With evening coming on we retired to the cabin. Knowing how fast night fell, I lit the lantern first thing. Then I suggested Denise scrounge through the food stock to see if she could get a meal together. Apart from a minor crack about doing women’s work, she hopped to and made a respectable meal.

After dinner we tidied up and I saw Denise cast a couple of nervous glances at the bunks. Eventually she bit the bullet.

“I’m sleeping in the bottom bunk,” she stated, with a ‘so there’ tone to her voice.

“That’s fine,” I said. “I thought that would be best for us, as well.”

There was dead silence for a second.

“Um, I’m not sleeping with you,” she told me, trying to sound firm.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to,” I said. “We haven’t got sleeping bags and they’re no blankets. We’ll need to sleep in the same bunk to conserve body heat.”

“You’re kidding,” she said. “We’re in the tropics. It’s hot.”

“Afraid not,” I said cheerfully. “It can get cold real fast at night, especially with that breeze off the water. Don’t worry. We’re both adults. We know how to control ourselves.”

It was still quite hot and we were still in out bathing suits, not having bothered to dress again after swimming. I suspected that Denise was now regretting that fact but didn’t want to suggest it in case it made her sound childish and scared. Pride makes fools of us all.

“Come on,” I said, blowing out the lantern. “We might as well go to bed now. A good night’s sleep and you’ll feel lots better and ready for the boat home.”

We climbed into the bunk and I could feel Denise rigid as a board, waiting to see what I was going to do.

“You’re as tense a cat at a dog convention. Are you waiting for me to make a pass or something?”

“Of course not,” Denise protested. “Why you don’t even particularly like me.”

“The trouble with that,” I said softly, “is that a man doesn’t have to like a woman to want her. And if I didn’t like you, I’d just let you sink when you get yourself into trouble instead of helping you out.”

I let that sink in a bit. She relaxed a trifle, but only a trifle.

“The main problem you have right now is the fact that I’m remembering you bent over my knee. Naked. I can see your breasts now, pointing to the ground while your bottom was underneath my hand. Did you know you parted your legs and showed me everything you had?”

“I did no such thing,” came the furious denial.

“Mmm. You did. That’s why I know you’ve shaved here.”

My hand slipped down to show the spot.

“Take your hand out of there!”

She sounded a little annoyed, so I moved my hand.

“I didn’t mean to move it there,” Denise protested, trying to move her breast from under my hand.

My hand finally settled on her tummy. At least she was no longer holding herself stiff. She was warm and cuddly in my arms. And angry, but that was minor. She’s often angry with me.

“You said we were both adults and knew how to control ourselves,” Denise said, a trifle bitterly I thought.

“Well we are and we do.”

“Then why aren’t you controlling where you put your damn hands?”

“I am,” I told her. “Indeed, I am.”

She was silent for a moment, wondering just what I meant. Her thinking process probably wasn’t helped by the fact that my hand was making lazy circles on her tummy, passing awfully close to a couple of places she’d already told me not to touch.

“Are you thinking of trying to seduce me?” she finally asked.

“No.” It was a flat statement.

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure if that was a statement of relief or disappointment. It didn’t matter as I went on to clarify the situation.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve gone past the thinking stage and am now doing.”

At this point my hand slid under her bikini and across her mons again, gently squeezing.

“And I’m not going to try,” I added. “I’m going to do.”

My Escort Antalya hand reached further down and I was cupping her vulva, gently massaging it. A deft movement of my other hand and her top was unfastened at the neck. I brushed it aside as my hand settled on her breast.

With twin assaults on her person Denise groaned and turned onto her back.

“Bastard,” she called me. “You’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you?”

“Not guilty,” I protested. “Acquit me. The idea didn’t cross my mind until you deliberately stranded us here.”

While Denise was digesting that I started her pants sliding down out of the road. I dropped mine while I was at it.

“What do you mean, deliberately?” muttered Denise.

“Are you seriously trying to tell me you could spend two days here and not notice that your time was an hour off? And still make all your appointments on time?”

Denise was silent for a moment and then gave me her honest opinion.

“You really are a rotten bastard, aren’t you?”

“Matter of opinion, but you need to learn to be a little more polite. If it wasn’t considered gauche to interrupt a seduction to spank the young lady, you would find yourself in trouble. Just remember I can always postpone a nice spanking if you really push it.”

Denise was squirming nicely under my touch, pressing her mound harder against my teasing fingers.

“And what are you going to do when I say I’m not going to have sex with you?” she challenged me.

For an answer I took her hand and directed it towards my erection. I heard her mutter another rude word under her breath, but I ignored that, as her hand closed tentatively over me, and then more firmly, feeling my erection and familiarising herself with it. She didn’t actually say anything more about not having sex.

I soothed and touched and massaged. My fingers danced over her body, and I could hear her breathing getting harsher as her arousal grew. A toe pressed between her ankles and her legs parted eagerly, ready for my dominance.

I was a little amused at the way Denise kept hold of my cock until she was sure I was ready to take her, and then seemed to let go reluctantly. I lined up and slid smoothly into place. Perhaps I should say crept smoothly into place. Denise was wet and willing and if she’d had her way I would have been joined to her in a flash. She plainly expected me to thrust home energetically. That’s probably why I just eased in slowly, building up her frustration and arousal.

By the time I had Denise fully impaled she was practically keening in her desperation. Her relief when I was finally home was immense. Unfortunately, her torment had just begun. I was in no hurry and I enjoyed the feel of her surrounding my erection. I saw no reason not to make it last. I started moving, slow but steady.

My slow love making lasted about five seconds before Denise started.

“What are you doing?”

“Making love to you. What did you think?”

Silence for a moment.

“Um, could you move a little faster?” (This was accompanied by heavy breathing.)

“I could, but then it would all finish too soon. Moving like this I can probably go on for hours.”

Again some silence. Then a rather nervous and frustrated sounding, “You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re joking.”

I laughed and drove in hard and fast, the sudden assault being met with a gasp of relief. I continued, with Denise reacting eagerly to the faster pace. She pushed up against me, forcing me deep within her with every stroke, wanting all I could give her and bouncing back for more.

Even at the faster pace I found ways to prolong the event, building both myself and Denise up to the brink of a climax and then struggling to hold us there while out pleasure slowly mounted, becoming almost unbearable in its intensity.

Denise was giving out little pleas for me to finish it, wanting, needing, to be pushed over that final edge. It was my pleasure to finally oblige her, hitting hard and relaxing my own control.

I pleasured her, venting my seed within her, hearing her scream and feeling her own climax ripping through her. I pumped her until I was spent, then just collapsed on top of her. Denise didn’t complain. She was far too spent herself to worry about a little thing like me lying on her.

Eventually I rolled off her and lay there, holding her. She seemed to finally collect her wits. I could tell by a slight tightening of her posture. Then she relaxed against me, sighed and went to sleep.

I was left holding her, awake and slightly bemused. Going to sleep on me I had not expected. I settled down to sleep myself. When dawn arrived I suspected that I’d be expected to perform again, and I was determined that the dawn service would be a memorable one.

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