Chapter 3

The following day was a milder one than the previous ones. There was some cloud cover and it wasn't a day where you felt like you had to be undercover every second, or be scorched. Even so, April applied sunscreen liberally. The sun here was ferocious; it didn't pay to take it for granted.

Breakfast was a buffet of salmon and poached eggs and other assorted goodies. Mario had outdone himself. Everyone had made it out of bed by 10, and was enjoying the less brutal morning sun, and chatting amiably. All the women, by now, had dispensed with anything other than brief swimsuits – Paula was topless, as was Sam and Astrid.

Once breakfast was concluded, Martin Steele got up and said, "Well, folks. I hope you all got some rest last night," there were meaningful looks directed around, and more than one person blushed, "because today is activity day. We are spending some time on the water, doing some para-gliding and water skiing, along with a bit of deep sea fishing. See if we can't bring home some dinner!"

There was a dutiful titter and everyone looked at each other, murmuring.

"Get yourselves together, folks, we leave in twenty minutes."

April just sat back and was glad she wasn't going. She was still tired from the evening's activities, and water skiing was one sport she wasn't fond of. She'd been out when in college in Arizona, to some of the lakes in the area, and every time she'd tried, she'd ended up eating water. It was just something she couldn't do, so she was fine with sitting it out.

As she sat back, eyes closed, she could feel a shadow falling over her, and so she opened her eyes to see Brenda Roaker hovering over her.

"Tara? Is there any chance I might prevail upon you in a professional capacity?"

April always marveled at Brenda's vocal delivery. So clipped and eloquent.

"Of course!"

"Oh, not this second. I'm not going out with everyone. Those kinds of water sports leave me bored rigid."

April couldn't help noticing the qualifying statement Brenda made. What kind of water sports would she enjoy?

"Er, twenty minutes then? Give me a chance to finish my coffee?"

"Perfect. I'll meet you on the poop deck. That's what it's called, isn't it?"

April had to smile at that. "I've no idea. I think that with the way most of the men are here, calling it that might be asking for trouble."

Brenda chuckled as she walked away.

April knew about Brenda, of course. She was an online college professor, for one of the more prestigious online universities, if there was such a thing. Her specialty was digital architecture, and her course went from using some of the 3D packages to design buildings, all the way through to building virtual landscapes for movies and video games.

She was considered brilliant in her area, analytical, cold and unapproachable, but had a wicked sense of humor when she wanted to use it. She was also a ruthless self-promoter, doing talks and interviews whenever she could get within twenty feet of a microphone.

Twenty minutes later, April was waiting by the massage bed, watching the two zodiacs zip off into the distance, after having helped load them with paragliding and skiing gear. Martin Steele had winked at her as they left and said, "Relax. Get some rest. Tonight, we PARTEEEE" in that stupid way that Bart Simpson had made famous.

Brenda stepped into view, and April looked her over anew. Long thick chestnut hair, tall – at least five feet ten, elegant limbs, probably 130, maybe 135, C cup boob that only had a hint of beginning to sag. Not bad for fifty-four, she had to admit. She hoped she looked that good at that age.

She was topless – a first for Brenda on this trip, as far as April could remember, and was wearing a sarong. With the light behind it, it was obvious she wasn't wearing any bikini bottoms either.

Brenda smiled at April as she hopped up on the bed and laid down on her stomach.

April asked, "Any particular areas of tension?"

"No, just general all over tension. Got a big deadline coming up and I'm a bit tense about it."

April put on some lotion and started in, starting at the shoulders. Immediately she found muscle knots around the shoulder blades. Almost everyone had them, given the junction of muscles there and what the requirements were, it was inevitable.

Working her way down, April slipped into the conversational queries that so many professions had honed to an art – the art of passing the time while doing something tedious. Cab drivers, barbers / hairdressers – all professions who start a conversation with a question.

"You seem ... ill at ease here?"

It was a loaded question. April was looking to see what Brenda would tell her. She already knew a lot from the profiles she'd prepared, and was curious if she'd lie. If she did, she'd know there was something to investigate.

Of all the people – besides that Kevin Smith person, and she'd already decided she was looking into him later – Brenda was the most standoffish and, for want of a better word, visibly not part of what was going on.

Brenda's reply was muffled. "I am?"

"Yes. Everyone else is boozing it up and gettin' jiggy with it. You just sit and watch."

"Well, if there was ever a place to people watch, this is it."

April chuckled. She was quite right.

"You don't seem to have a problem getting' ... jiggy with it? Is that the parlance? I saw you sneaking off with Kim and Rashid last night. Good time was it?"

"It had its moments. They definitely have a 'thing'."

"Do they, now?"

April began to realize this was derailing. She was answering the questions, not asking them.

"Oh yes. So is John enjoying all this?"

Brenda sighed. "John always enjoys himself. He has no problem doing that, wherever we are."

"Hedonist eh?"

Brenda pushed herself up on the massage bed and looked back at April.

"You see his hair? That's forty-five minutes a day. He's a bit vain, he's very egotistical, and frankly, hedonist is too mild a word."

April just looked back at her – a good silence was necessary here – and then Brenda sighed again and pushed herself back down.

"It would be comical and I'd leave him in a heart beat if I didn't love him. And I do. Despite his needs for his ego to be stroked – sometimes quite literally. I just deal and move on."

"You didn't feel like going today?"

Brenda snorted. "Not really. Besides, while it's a vacation for him, it's not for me. I have three phD thesis proposals to look over and a white paper on First Person Shooter Level Design to get out while I am here. I need to get on with it."

April didn't reply, and just got some more lotion on her hands. Then she said, "You wanna turn over?"

Brenda did, shielding her eyes from the sun, looking up at April. Brenda had a pretty damn good body for a woman of her age, April did have to admit. There was regular exercise in her life, that was for sure.

"Besides, I fancied seeing what you were capable of..." Brenda said, with a big smile. While she said it, she parted her legs a bit, giving April a more open view of her shaved pussy.

April couldn't help glancing down and seeing Brenda's opened pussy lips, slightly glistening in the sun. She stopped her hand motion for a second, her hands on Brenda's thighs, as she looked down at what Brenda was showing her – an obvious and open invitation.

April just suddenly looked around, marveling at her situation. They were out in the open air, on the bottom deck. There was only Mario, April and Brenda on the entire island – they were floating on the water in a bay in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, on a man made artificial island, and she was about to, at the very least, finger a prestigious female college professor. It was surreal.

She refocused her attention on Brenda, who was lying, looking up at April in rapt interest. April carried on the massage, rubbing up and down Brenda's thighs, not saying anything.

She knew the small lines of nerve clusters on the inner thighs, and wasn't shy about stimulating them. Her hands were going closer and closer to the inner thigh, higher and higher, and she could feel Brenda responding to the stimulation. Her breathing increased, and she closed her eyes – her body very slightly arching as April's fingertips ranged over her skin.

April had a thought, and moved down to the end of the massage bed, so she was at Brenda's feet. She leaned forward, draping herself over Brenda, so her hands, outstretched, reached to just below Brenda's breasts. She dragged her hands down Brenda's body, face just below Brenda's groin. As she pull her arms down, her elbows went out, bending, and in doing so, pushed Brenda's knees apart.

She breathed heavily, directing her breath at Brenda's now open pussy lips, glistening in the midday sun.

Brenda arched her back, giving out a small whimper. She said, "ohhhhh..." in small voice.

April smiled to herself. She had Brenda's measure now – at least some of it. Brenda liked to be teased.

So that's what she did. She carried on the massage, paying special attention to the erogenous zones on the inside and outside of the thighs. She was playing Brenda like an instrument.

Every new touch brought a new whimper from Brenda – April could feel Brenda's heart racing and her body temperature going up.

Eventually, tiring of the game, April just leaned forward and jammed two fingers right up Brenda, who literally jumped her body off the massage bed with a large "Omph."

Brenda's eyes flashed open and she just looked up at April, pleading in her eyes.

April looked down at her, careful to keep an expression of lust on her face. It wasn't too difficult, since she was pretty much there, anyway.

She kept it up, finger fucking Brenda, with two, then three fingers, slipping in and out of her very slippery pussy. She used her thumb to stimulate Brenda's very erect clit as she did it, and would have used her little finger to push into her ass, if she'd had the angle on it. She didn't, so she made do. It didn't matter, because Brenda was fast getting off anyway.

Every time she pushed in, Brenda would arch her back, pushing her pelvis up in an attempt to get more of April's fingers in.

She was almost there, when April just stopped. Brenda moaned and looked at up April, the naked lust in her eyes, pleading for release.

April smiled lustfully at her and without breaking eye contact she pushed Brenda's legs apart, and, pulling her self up on the bed, slowly lowered herself so her head was between Brenda's legs, breathing on her exposed pussy. Brenda's eyes widened even wider, the anticipation growing.

And then April opened her mouth and licked, from the bottom of Brenda's very wet pussy, to the top, where she then wiggled her tongue back and forth across the exposed clit.

And it was enough. Brenda went off like a Roman candle. April hadn't seen many women squirt before, but Brenda did, exploding liquid everywhere. Brenda screamed as she did so, and April couldn't help but look around to see if anyone was going to come running.

After Brenda's body stopped squirming, she was breathing heavily, the sweat beading on her torso and chest.

"That was ... wow," she said, weakly.

April climbed off the table and smiled at her.

"We aim to please."

"Well by god, you hit the mark."

April chuckled. "Right team, time to hit the showers, I think."

Brenda levered herself up and looked over at April.

"I have a better idea. Come with me."

Brenda climbed off the table, grabbed her sarong and then grabbed April's hand and led her off to her room.

Once they got there, Brenda pushed April down on the bed and said, "Your turn. Wait there."

She turned and rummaged around in her luggage, before turning, holding up what she'd found and said, "Ta da!"

She was holding a large black dildo, in a strap on harness.

April raised her eyebrows. It was not something she would have expected Brenda Roake to be wielding.

Brenda grinned and said, "John sometimes ... enjoys it. Hey, we are all different!"

The last was added a little defensively.

April, with a twinkle in her eye, said, "I'm sure he does. And something tells me I'm about to as well? You did clean it, right?"

"Sparkling. No one likes a shitty dildo," laughed Brenda.

"Well this is unexpected. Not encountered those much in my life," replied April, wriggling out of her shorts.

Brenda looked at her funny, and, as she started strapping the dildo on, said, "You are an enigma, Tara."

April stopped taking her panties off and said, quietly, "Oh?"

"Yeah. You look great, you are obviously educated, you just ... look at people. You see stuff. I can see it. You observe and take it all in. You are there, but ... apart? You know?"

This conversation was not going places that April wanted to go. She'd already got the information she wanted. Brenda and John were not her perps. You don't get shown a large black dildo and are informed of her husbands delight in being fucked by it if you intend to black mail someone. That would be the reverse.

But still – April was concerned. Brenda was altogether too observant and April was not doing a good enough job of being flighty and having less depth – something to be aware of.

Brenda finished tightening the harness, looked down at April with a lopsided smile and said, "You ready for this?"

April just smiled back.

It was interesting. It was not actually something April had done before – a woman as the man. It was very interesting to note that Brenda and John probably hadn't done it that much, because Brenda couldn't get the angle right, nor could she get the rhythm correct.

She was banging away with gusto, but often it either slipped out, or April had to adjust her orientation and position because the rubber cock was at a painful angle or almost about to slip out. Since there were no nerve endings in the cock, Brenda couldn't tell it was at an obtuse angle.

April got there in the end, to Brenda's obvious relief – even if she did have to assist with her own fingers. Brenda was evidently out to make April's world rock, even if she didn't have the facilities to do it as she really wanted to, and April was touched that Brenda would care enough to want to reciprocate.

When April finally got there – on all fours, Brenda behind, drilling her mercilessly – the both collapsed in a sweaty mess. April happened to glance at the clock and saw they'd been at it for over forty-five minutes. Brenda, seeing her look, also looked at the clock.

Wearily, she raised her head and said, "Well, that was fun."

April forced a giggle, "Sure was for me."

They lay there for a few minutes, just cooling down, and then Brenda got up and stretched, the large black strapon dildo jutting out obscenely, and started to unbuckle.

"You probably need to shower, Tara." She said, stretching her legs once the sex toy was on the floor. April could understand – she knew that maintaining that position and doing all the work when fucking took it out on the thigh muscles, particularly if you weren't used to it, as almost all women were not.

April climbed off the bed, and gathered up her clothes, looking over at Brenda.

Brenda smiled back and said, "I hope you don't think it rude if I ask you to shower in your room? I honestly do have a bunch of work to get done, grading papers and looking over a thesis proposal. I was hoping to get most of it done today while the rest were out. Obviously, I got ... sidetracked."

April just laughed and replied, "Not at all. Some alone time is probably what we both need right now. After a good shower."

Brenda came around the bed and met April halfway to the door. She stopped her, and grabbed her shoulders. April, with hands full, just let her.

Slowly, and tenderly, Brenda kissed April. An almost chaste kiss, no open mouth, just a thank you.

They shared a look, then Brenda dropped her arms and walked off to the shower, while April dressed herself, letting herself out of the room quietly when she was done.

Two hours later, April woke in her room, after napping from the afternoon's excursions. She was a little sore, and took a bath in the small sit down bath in her room, using one of the bath bombs from Jessica.

--She felt immeasurably better, and was ready for the evening's activities, and she had some ideas about those...

Everyone returned later in the day, tired, but happy. Everyone had that layer of pale grime that comes of spending too much time in the water. Frosted lips and eyebrows were very apparent. There was much talking of events of the day, lots of "Did you see when I..." that comes of group events when people do exciting things.

Everyone dispersed to shower and change, but not before Sal Girodano and Bridget Flieshman stopped April and asked for a massage. She got to both of them before dinner was served. And what a dinner it was. Steak, chicken and lobster, grilled or fried, with white wine sauce and all the trimmings. Mario really pulled out the stops.

This evening's game was a game of trivia, but in teams. However, couples were split up, put together into teams of three, and the trivia itself was varied. Some were questions, some were sequences, where Martin Steele and Mario had set up a screen and projector, and were showing small snippets of movies, then asking questions on them. Of course, all the sequences were suggestive. There was the lesbian scene from Black Swan, with Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis, the food scene from Nine and Half Weeks, the magic ritual scene from Eyes Wide Shut - nothing that was explicit porn, but not far from it, either. All designed to get the pulses racing.

That evening, April cajoled Martin Steele and got herself assigned to the two single guys – Mark Roschgord and Sal Girodano. Yet again, she was struck at how vain and fundamentally unaware Mark Roschgord really was. He was great looking but ultimately vapid. She wondered how, exactly, he'd won this trip. This was an award for up and comers, and he was anything but. He must have some pretty smart people working for him.

She'd targeted the two single guys before moving on to Kevin Smith, simply to get them out of the way. She felt that in the scheme of things, the person she really thought was suspicious – beyond suspicious, in fact – was Kevin Smith, head and shoulders above the rest, then the single guys, then maybe some of the couples. So far she'd managed to remove two couples and the hired help from her list of potential suspects – she did laugh at herself when she realized she'd used that word, even if internally – and now it was time to go after the more higher-value targets.

As it turned out, she basically didn't have to do any chasing at all. Sal Girodano was flirting from the moment she sat down – in a casual and very funny way. Whereas Mark Roschgord just sat there, telling her how great he was, and why he was such a terrific catch. She realized about half way through that he really did actually believe what he was saying – it wasn't an act put on to attract gullible women.

One gem he trotted out was, "Every woman has a different cum face, you know. A different moan. All the women – and there's been a few – have had a different one when they get there." When he said this, he looked intently at April for a second, then looked away. The moment he did, she glanced at Sal and stuck her finger in her throat, like she was going to be sick. Another statement was, "Making a woman cum takes finesse and skill. I've been practicing a lot, and even though I say it myself, I think I'm pretty good." And then he winked at April. When he got up to go to the bathroom, she rolled her eyes at Sal, who grinned back.

"Yeah, he's a bit full of himself, I know. He does have a big dick, though," Sal said conversationally, taking a sip of his rum and coke.

April raised her eyebrows. "And you'd know how... ?"

Sal smiled back. "We ... shared. It was ... memorable."

This was the opening April had been looking for. It wasn't hard to feign interest, although actually screwing Mark would be a hard sell. She was damn good herself - professionally trained – and she was pretty sure he wouldn't measure up. But it was worth a shot to see, plus she wanted to get into his head some more. She was fairly certain that a cretin such as he wouldn't be a mastermind behind the bank robberies, but he could also be the world's greatest scam artist. Sex, like playing certain games, reveals a lot, and it might give her more insight into who he was.

Sal, on the other hand, was a definite suspect. He was a little too charming. A little too reticent. A little too laid back. Almost too good to be true.

She even pressed him at one point, between rounds.

"No one at home for you?"

Sal looked away, and said to the screen, "No. Used to be, but her idea of a relationship and mine ... wasn't the same."

April was curious.

"Can I ask what happened?"

Sal looked back at her with a tiny frown, stared for a second, then said, "We had a sort of open relationship. We weren't monogamous when we got together, and it was casual. As we got closer, well, we – she – deliberately kept that avenue open. She was up front about it, no sneaking around, and I was free to dabble too. I even did, a couple of times. But then I found out that she was basically working her way through my friends. There's sharing and there's being a town bike. It wasn't for me. We parted. I haven't really been that interested since."

He looked away again, finished.

April considered it. It explained a lot.

"Well, lets just have a great evening," was her not-exactly-brilliant response.

She had to get up several times to make drinks for others – Paula Woods in particular seemed intent on getting blasted, and April started to water down her drinks after her fifth Manhattan.

She noticed Sal and Mark deep in conversation, glancing over at her furtively. She gave them a big smile back.

By the end of the evening, after more socializing - they'd been joined by Bridget Fleshiman and Kim and Rashid Patel at various points - it was clear that both her partners were interested in other things. They kept glancing at each other and making "go on, ask her" motions to each other.

Eventually, just to get to the point, April stood up and said brightly, "Well, I'm off to bed. Anyone care to join me?"

One chair literally fell over as Sal stood up hurriedly, and Mark wasn't far behind.

They made it her room, April walking fast ahead.

She was taking her clothes off as they entered her room; she was naked in a second, and then jumped on her bed, sitting cross legged. She looked at the two men, who were standing next to each other, looking a little uncertain. Normally, they did the seduction.

She looked back and forth between the two men and then said, "If neither of you are going to fuck me, then this is going to be a looooonng night."

Which, as it turned out, was the prompt they needed. Both were naked in an instant, and April did notice that, yes, Mike Roschgord really was quite well equipped. It wasn't far off nine inches, if April was any guess. Inwardly she groaned. Her poor pussy was going to be sooooo sore tomorrow, after the almost non stop action so far.

She reached up and grabbed two condoms off the table and slapped them down on the bed and just looked expectantly at the two men, the statement unspoken but unmistakable.

They joined her on the bed and surprisingly, Sal started out with a kiss – on her neck. Light and feathery. Very unexpected.

Mark went straight for the tits, and was licking and sucking greedily on her nipples, flicking them with his tongue. Sal, however, was taking his time – or trying to, anyway – to warm April up, and she appreciated it.

After a few minutes of groping her tits, Mark got bored and went for the pussy, inserting two fingers, and finding April primed and wet, as she slightly pulled her legs apart to give him better access.

Sal continued on his kissing quest, moving from a heavy duty French kiss, down her neck to her boobs, so cruelly abandoned by Mark.

Dimly, April had to wonder at how good they were in terms of sharing and not getting in each other's way.

She was brought to orgasm by the combination of Marks fingers and Sal mouth on her breasts, and while it wasn't a major one, it was still a good feeling of release.

April realized right then and there, she was as much in control of this sex as she chose to be – she was the target, not the one handing out the experience, and she was all good with that. She'd still have to guide – when two men share a woman, it's a more complicated positional situation than when two women share a man. With two women, there's still only one dick – one woman is less likely to get in the way of another. With two men, who both have penises they'd like to see get attention, it takes a more delicate touch in terms of setting up the positions. April had seen more than one threesome become basically one man, climbing on, missionary style, leaning over and effectively shutting out the other man entirely. It took a woman with some experience to offer up positions where both men get something out of it at once.

And thankfully, she had that experience.

When Mark – after slapping on the condom - finally maneuvered himself to sink his large cock into April's more than willing – if slightly sore – pussy, she had already arranged herself so her mouth was easy access for Sal, who proceeded to get the blow job of the century. Or, at least, as good as April could give when she was being relentlessly pounded by Mark.

Mark had no style, but had raw masculinity and persistence – and a larger than average cock. He was all man, all about the pounding and none about any sophistication. And while it wasn't what April would have wanted in a lover for any period of time, it fit the moment perfectly. She was extremely distracted by just being pounded, and surrendered to it twice, before Sal slapped Mark on the shoulder and said, "My turn."

Mark stopped pounding, sweat dripping down his face, looked at Sal for a second, then reluctantly dismounted, allowing Sal to roll on his condom and climb on.

The difference was palpable. Sal was slightly smaller, but his technique was infinitely better. He used slower strokes, he watched April's reactions, and modified his position and approach based on it.

While Mark had been all size and power, Sal was all technique.

April got off twice more – that was 4 now, almost a record for her, and after twenty minutes more of the two swapping back and forth, and them changing positions, she was ready for the coup-de-grace – one in each hole.

She wasn't entirely sure about doing this, but in the end, the lust just simply took her and she wanted to try it, although with Sal in the ass, not Mark. She didn't need to be walking funny the next day.

In the end, she got off once more, and both men blew in side their condoms with a minute of each other.

Everyone was tired, sore, and dripping with sweat by the end of it. The bed was crowded, and April literally just tipped Sal and Mark off the bed, onto the floor and just pointed at the door, smiling tiredly at them.

Mark looked like he was about to say something, but didn't, and Sal just smiled back and whispered, "Fuck of the century!"

--April was asleep by the time the door shut.

The next day was one of silliness. Breakfast was casual and late – mostly people eating breakfast bagels with fried eggs and bacon in them. Some people preferred a bowl of fruit, and the division was almost completely along gender lines. It was refreshing to see that no one asked for a beer for breakfast. After seeing some of the guys put the beer away the night before, April wouldn't have put it past them to imagine some of them might have alcohol problems. Two of the husbands did ask April to whip them up a bloody Mary, but she was very light on the vodka. The way she made them, they were more something you ate than drank anyway.

But most appeared to have settled in to the way the life on the Island worked. Most understood what was on offer, and how it should be tackled. Brenda Roaker was still a little standoffish – even towards April, even after the afternoon they had shared the day before - but every one else seemed relaxed and determined to enjoy themselves. Even Mike and Paula Woods seemed to have kissed and made up.

April's professional eye noticed the small looks and touches that went with a successful marriage. Whatever they had gotten up to the last night, both had gotten something out of it, and it had made them reach out to each other. She did idly wonder if they had one of those marriages where, if everything was great, then everything was great, but when it was not, it was recrimination time. Then she shook herself and went on to make the requested espresso. There's no way she'd know, short of a full-on counseling session, and that was unlikely to happen any time soon.