Chapter 4

The next day was a blur. Up late because of the late night, she missed the initial breakfast meal. Martin Steele looked hard at her when she showed up at 9:45, but didn't say anything. She had the feeling she would be hearing from him later.

Tom Smith studiously avoided her, not even glancing in her direction.

Thankfully, it was another day with most of the holidaymakers off the island. There was a fishing contest and they were gone most of the day, leaving April time to recoup her energy. She spent some time swimming, some time in the hot tub and even managed a nap.

The day was a lazy day. One thing she'd been grateful for was that the night before there had been no sexual activity for her – her genitals were thankful for the night off.

Cheap digital cameras where provided after breakfast, to each couple – the three single guys being paired up with Astrid, Sam and April, and they were given an assignment. "Most erotic picture". Basically, they were given the run of the island, plus the zodiacs and jet ski's, and told, "You have till 5pm, then we meet here, and all cameras are to be handed in."

That night, they would have a viewing party, and all the pictures submitted – each couple got to mark five pictures to be put in the contest – would be judged by everyone else.

It was a clever concept, and after the announcement, everyone just sat, staring at each other, wondering what to do. Some got on it immediately, excited and talking animatedly. Others sat there, dumb founded about what to do next.

Thankfully, Martin had thought ahead and provided each couple with a cheap android tablet, preloaded with some idea's of pictures they might want to try replicating.

After a brief session detailing how to use the cameras, everyone was just asked to be back by 5.

April got Sal Girodano as her other half, and as he sat down in the chair opposite her, she determined that she was seriously not interested in being anyone's muse, and immediately proposed an alternative.

"So, Tara, I guess we need to look through your wardrobe?" Sal said, smiling lazy as he looked at the camera in his hand.

"Actually Sal, I think we need to look through yours," she replied. "I think we need to do something different. You know everyone else is going to be taking pictures of the lady of the group. We are going to do a Mr. September thing for ours."

Sal just looked at her, then, to her surprise, he just laughed.

"Well, ten out of ten for concepts there, Tara. I highly doubt anyone is going to want to look at pictures of me, but what the hell. I'm game."

And that's what they did.

After looking through what he brought in terms of clothes, they loaded up a backpack with clothes and snacks – and most importantly, liquids - and took off on one of the Jetskis for shore - the first time April had been off the island since she arrived.

They spent almost four hours just taking pictures of Sal picking up rocks and driftwood – trying to recreate the famous picture of the male model, stripped to the waist, carrying two tires. There was no problem with replicating the sweat, that was for sure.

While they were there, April and Sal became aware of Bridget and Brad Fleischman, in the lagoon behind them. They were gamely doing their best to take some provocative poses of Bridget, and it was apparent that she wasn't thrilled about it.

As they stopped to take a drink, April and Sal could hear Brad pleading with Bridget to at least let him take a picture or two.

Listening, they could see that Bridget was beside herself – she was upset about her body and how sexy could she really be? It was one thing to put on a good face in front of everyone, but when it came to 'sexy pictures', as she put, it who would want to see those??

April looked at Sal, with a serious expression on her face. "Do you mind just waiting for a bit? I need to go ... talk to them."

Sal gave her a brief smile back and said, "Sure. I completely understand. Can I help?"

April looked at him for a second, considering. "Thanks Sal – that says a lot that you'd want to. But no, I think this is something I should try myself."

He nodded and she got up, dusting herself off as she did.

Brad and Bridget were just over a dune – they obviously weren't aware of Sal and April's presence, and they were mortified when she crested the dune, waving to them.

"Heya guys!" she said brightly.

Bridget sighed, and sat down, pulling a shawl around herself. Brad just stood, watching April approach, with the expression of 'what else can go wrong' on his face.

April arrived and sat on the dunes, next to Bridget.

It was an uncomfortable situation.

"Hey. Um. So ... Yeah. Taking some pics back there. Couldn't help but hear..."

She got as far as that and Bridget suddenly turned and said, "This sucks. I hate this." And ended with a sob.

April was taken aback, but she also knew This Is What She Did. This was therapy 101. She was there, she had the tools and by god, inadvertent as it was, she was going to do something about this.

She stole a glance at Brad, who was standing, holding the camera and just staring at Bridget. It wasn't a hard stare, it was more compassionate but bewildered, all rolled into one. A classic "I want to help but don't know what to do" look.

"So, let me guess. Sexy erotic pictures and you just don't feel like you fit the bill, right? You feel too large to be erotic or for people to find you sexy. Is that it?"

Going direct was always a risk. If you got it wrong, you've just insulted the people you want to help. But this wasn't a therapy session, they wouldn't be back next week and something had to be done immediately, because of the five pm deadline – so April just went in, all guns blazing.

Bridget snuffled a sob and after a second's hesitation, nodded. A tear went down one cheek.

Brad was there, instantly on his knees in the sand, reaching out for Bridget's hands, camera dumped on the ground and forgotten about.

"That's bullshit, Honey. You ARE sexy. To me, you are the loveliest thing I've ever seen."

He sent a venomous look in April's direction.

"Don't you listen to her, Bridge. She's just full of it."

He had mistaken her intent, but that was ok. He wasn't the one she needed to build up.

"Actually Bridget, if anything, I tend to agree with your Husband," she said, matter of factly.

Bridget looked over at her, puzzled, and Brad shot her a questioning look too.

"Look, yeah, I get this has to be a hard thing right? Society denotes that we all need to be five foot nine and one hundred and twenty pounds, with 34d tits, right? And legs that won't quit and an ass you can bounce a quarter off of. That's what all the Victoria's Secret ads show us, right? I'll bet you don't feel like you could fit into that shit or look the part right?"

No one nodded or said anything, so April waited a beat and carried on.

"Well, news flash Bridget. Neither can I. Neither can your mother, or my mother, or my sister, or anyone else I know. No one can. Apart from Victoria's Secret models, and they have to spend all afternoon being made up before they can do it, too.

"It's all bullshit. Sexy isn't what you see in someone's body Bridget. Sexy is what they feel, and you seeing what they feel. Brad!"

He almost jumped when she turned to him and said, "What is the sexiest thing about your wife? Quick."

Without thinking, he stammered back, "Um ... well, it's not one thing. Her eyes. The way they crinkle when she's about to tell a joke. Er, her laugh. The way she scratches her nose when she's thinking. The smile she gives me when I arrive, when she's out with people."

He was warming to his theme now, looking back at Bridget as he talked.

"The way she puts a finger on my lips when she wants me to shut up. Her heart – do you know, she volunteers for Habit for Humanity? Just ... everything."

Leaning forward, April casually picked up the camera.

"I can tell. You guys do look very into each other."

She turned the camera on and tried to get some of the pictures up on the LCD on the back. There were some pictures of Bridget in the water, trying to throw her hair back. They'd gotten the speed of the shutter on the camera wrong and the light was in the wrong place.

"Ok, so you've been trying to do some glamour shots, right? And you just don't want to, right Bridget?"

"Well, I just don't have that body. I've tried but the weight just doesn't go, you know?" wailed Bridget, with some snuffles.

"Yeah," agreed April, "I know how hard it can be."

She had a thought.

"Bridget, what do you do to seduce Brad? What is it that you do? Show me."

Bridget looked around, worriedly. "What? Here?"

"Why not? No one here but us cats!" encouraged April, cringing at her own phraseology.

A small smile appeared on Bridget's face as she considered April's proposal.

"Ok," she said, a little hesitantly. She looked back at Brad, and gave him a very warm but lavacious smile. "Hey big boy. Wanna come out to play?"

She ended it with her tongue out, just a little ways.

It was what April had been waiting for. The camera was up and she was snapping off picture after picture.

Bridget leaned forward and cupped Brads groin with her hand, looking into his eyes.

"I think he does."

"You know he does, minx," replied Brad, laughing in that way that men do when it's shot through with sexual desire.

More pics.

"I love you, you lummox."

"I love you too, minx."

April laughed. "Right. Ok you two, simmer down a bit. Or I may have to go and take a cold shower!"

Bridget shot a look of almost disappointment at April.

"Ok, so here, look at these," said April, bringing up the pictures she had just taken.

All three crowded round the camera to see them, shielding the LCD from the sun so they could see it. The shots were perfectly framed, and had the two of them, reaching out. Bridget's face was correctly angled, the sun coming down to show the expression she had on her face.

"See, now that is sexy. That expression? That's Sex. Right there. Screw the body and glamour shots and trying to be clever with the camera. That's raw sexuality right there. Bridget, just gotta say it. You know your man and you know what gets him going. So many women don't know that about their men. You got it where it counts Bridget. I envy you."

Bridget looked over at her and looked doubtful.

"Envious of me? I doubt that, Tara. Look at you. All American girl. Who wouldn't want you?"

April smiled back. "Believe it or not Bridget, given what I do, finding a good partner who buys into it all is tougher than you'd think. I can get a tumble any night of the week, sure. Finding a regular guy who wants a relationship? Harder than you'd think."

Not one word of that was a lie and April was thinking of Raph as she said it. Of course Bridget and Brad had no idea of her real occupation, but still, being a bartender masseuse and obvious sex toy to a bunch of horny holiday makers wasn't probably high on the list of desirable jobs for a potential wife as well.

"Look," she said, handing the camera back to Brad, "I gotta get back to my photographer. I suspect he's done peeing by now.

"Take more pics and just ask her to seduce you. And then, Bridget, you do the same. You take the camera and make Brad seduce you. If you are still bothered by your body, take pictures in the water. Or behind a tree. Disguise it, if it bothers you that much. But remember, it's about the expression. What's in the eyes. Now, I gotta run."

As she got up, Bridget suddenly said, "Who are you, Tara? You are way more than just a bartender."

April looked down and the two of them, sitting on the hot sand.

"Didn't you know? All bar tenders have a phD in amateur psychology! It's part of the training. Ciao!"

She'd said it as flippantly as possible and walked off, not looking back.

She got over the dune and found Sal, stretched out on the sand, taking a nap. He looked up at hearing her approach and said, in a low voice, "That was pretty amazing, Tara. You have a talent for that kind of thing."

April just shrugged, not wanting to get into that conversation.

--"Ok, so, where were we?"

As it turned out, Brad and Bridget's pictures came in second in the poll that Martin Steel held later on that day. April's came in third, losing out to Brenda Roakes' set of photos taken on the island itself, with her just in a see through shift. The shots were breath taking, taken with the sun over her shoulder.

But Bridget and Brad were happy with theirs – the crowning picture was one of Bridget in the water, reaching up to Brad, holding the camera.Astrid's pictures were literally a collage of her giving Mark Roschgord a blow job, complete with a full facial at the end of it...

April managed to get away to her cabin for half an hour before dinner – tonight was an Italian extravaganza, and April was idly wondering how Mario was going to make all that food without lashings of Garlic, something that would decidedly put a damper on a romantic evening. No one likes someone else breathing garlic all over them all night. – and make the daily call back to Igrams. She also did a cursory check of the day's recordings, not that there was much, since everyone had been out all day. There was nothing there of value.

Going back to the main deck, April was happy. She was pretty sure, though not totally, that Brad and Bridget were exactly what they appeared to be. It was possible they were better actors than she was prepared to admit, but she doubted it. Which was also puzzling and worrying, since she was rapidly running out of candidates for bank robbery intelligence gathering.

As it turned out, that evening, she got more evidence that Brad and Bridget were above board. April was running the bar and just sitting by herself for a moment, after a rush order of three pitchers of margaritas, when Bridget approached.

"Um. Tara. Do you have a second?"

"Sure, Bridget. Well done, by the way. I knew you could do it. Remember, sexy is what you feel, not what you look like."

"Yes. Sure. Mind you, it helps if you look like a Victoria's Secret model, though. You have to admit."

"Well, yes. But being on a constant diet is not my idea of a good time, yeah?"

Bridget tittered for a moment, then, looking away, and doing a great impression of someone working their way up to ask something she said, "So ... anyway. Um. Yeah, you know this island get away thing? Well, we've seen a lot of people, um, doing ... things. You know?"

There wasn't really a question, so April just nodded.

"Well, it's not really our thing to be honest. But, we've been talking and we are here and it's likely this will be our only opportunity, so anyway, you were so nice this afternoon and we were wondering... ?"

Bridget didn't actually ask anything, just looked at April anxiously. There was silence for a second and April considered how hard she was going to make Bridget work.

"Wondering what?"

Bridget looked back at April. Then she took a deep breath and said, "If you would be interested in ... partying. With us. Or Brad, more specifically. He's really good."

April couldn't help it. She glanced over at Brad, sitting at the table with Tom Smith, looking back. He smiled at her and raised a glass in her direction. She chuckled. Insecure enough that he sent his wife to ask April to fuck him. Well, she could understand that. For an inexperienced couple, asking something like that could easily backfire, and his ego end up severely damaged.

She pursed her lips, as though thinking it over.

"Bridget? Sure. Why not. It's all in fun. You sure you are good with this? I don't want to cause any issues."

Bridget smiled a school girl smile back and nodded over to the table. "Oh no. If he gets his fun, I get mine, too." She whispered to April.

April glanced back at the table and suddenly realized she meant Tom Smith. That might cause complications, but there was no backing out now.

"Let's get a drink and get sloshed!" said April, quoting a line from Notting Hill, a favorite escapist movie of hers.

And that's what they did. April joined them at the table, and for the next three quarters of an hour they talked, drank, even sang a song, and April did her best to include Tom, even though she made sure he was the recipient of a loaded stare a couple of times. He blinked back at her to indicate he understood, and didn't rock the boat.

She learned that Brad and Bridget had met in a coffee shop, where she'd been working. She'd consistently got his drink wrong and in the end he'd told her that she had to have dinner with him for penance. It had grown from there, and they were married, with two kids back home – grandparents babysitting while they were on the island.

Then, graciously, April thought, Brad made the suggestion, "Shall we adjourn?"

Bridget looked at Tom, then at Brad and then said, "How does this work? Do we all go together? What's the etiquette here?"

April burst out with a laugh and said, "I don't think there are any rules, Bridget. You want to share or do your thing in private?"

Bridget leaned over to Brad, kissed him hard on the mouth and looked in his eyes and said, "You sure you are ok with this honey? Last chance. We can still back out."

Brad, characteristically, just smiled back, nodded his head and said, "Be happy. Come back to me when you are done. And don't have too good a time, ok?"

Bridget patted his hand and said, "Never, lover. You are everything and you know it. I love you even more for letting me have this." She glanced back at April and said, "Make him happy, please? But not too happy."

And then Tom and her got up and left, without looking back.

There was silence at the table for a moment and then April said, "Shall we?"

The rest of the evening was a blur.

They made it back to Brad and Bridget's room – Bridget was nowhere to be found – and April had no idea what to expect.

She literally just got into the room and looked at Brad.

And he just started in. There was no preamble, no chat, no warming her up, he just went straight for a kiss, and while it was slightly awkward at first, she found herself warming up very quickly. Very fast, in fact.

Time passed, with them just making out, but to April, it didn't feel like time was passing at all. Brad, it turned out, was very good at making out.

Slowly, but surely, his hands wandered over her body, and it only served to make her hotter. A touch here, a finger there, a small grope – nothing prolonged, everything fleeting, sometimes a brief touch, sometimes a twist. It was, April thought later, a master class in getting someone hot and bothered. And it worked. April felt she was well trained and well versed in the art of physical seduction, but what Brad was doing was as exemplary as it was unexpected. Brad, it was turning out, was one hell of a lover. And he hadn't even taken her clothes off yet.

Twenty minutes later, and April was as ready to be fucked as she had ever been in her life. Brad had slowly peeled her clothes off, resisting all attempts she had made to reciprocate – gently but firmly taking her hands off him – and she was beyond horny at this point. And at no point had he actually said a word.

It was a totally different Brad that was on the bed with her than she'd seen at the beach that day – he was confident, knew what he was doing and just got on and did it.

An hour later, April's heart was fit to burst, she was panting, and her muscles were cramping from the onslaught of orgasms. She'd had five so far, each greater than the last, and she wasn't sure she'd survive a sixth. And Brad had yet to come, and wouldn't even let her touch his penis, let alone do anything back to him.

She'd tried, after the first orgasm, but he'd gently pushed her back down on the bed, and said the only words he'd said since they got to the room – "No. Tonight is all about you." And that was that. So much for 'making him happy', as Bridget had asked.

He'd started out just kissing her all over, from her feet to her neck. He'd sucked her toes – something she'd come across a couple of times before and it had never really done much for her, but in the circumstances, it was strangely alluring to her.

He'd licked her armpits – something she'd not had happen before and she still wasn't sure about it.

He'd breathed on her pussy, taking his time to never actually touch it. He'd stroked and teased all around it, paying special attention to the inside of her thighs, but left it alone till April was almost begging him for release.

When he had started paying attention to her nipples and clit, he'd played a master class of orgasm denial, fingering her, getting her almost there, then stopping. The starting in the oral, licking her pussy, then going from asshole to clit, and back again, waggling his face and tongue on her labia, the whole deal.

When she had come the first time – when he'd finally allowed it – she just exploded with the kind of toe curling orgasm she didn't see very often. She thought that was it for the night, now it was her turn.

But then the actual fucking began,

again though, done in silence, apart from the heavy breathing and various moans both made. He'd had her in every position she could think of. She'd come sitting astride him, on a chair, kissing him while he bent her body so her clit rubbed against his torso as he rocked her back and forth.

She'd creamed on his cock, on all fours, while he worked her asshole with his middle finger.

She'd screamed when he fucked her missionary, holding her own hand down against her clit, trapped between them, and moving only because he rotated his body against hers, moving her hand as well.

By the end, she was spent. Fulfilled but spent. And he still hadn't come.

She suspected he'd been trained, but where and when ... it was unexpected but, for her, welcome. To meet someone with such skills ... she was envious of Bridget.

Although she also noticed that while it was a good time, she was in no way in thrall of Brad. He was too cold. Too distant. Too ... uninvolved, that was the word. More to the point, he was unavailable. He was making that clear.

But he was good, there was no denying that, either.

It was just a shame that April didn't get to show any of her own skills. Still, nice not to have to.

Finally, he did cum. A geyser, all over her chest. She looked inquiringly at him when he'd done it, and he caught the gaze and looked a little crestfallen and said, simply, "I just didn't want to cum in anyone but Bridget. That's for her alone."

Another surprise. April did manage to say, "I understand. That's very sweet. Your wife is very very lucky."

He gave her a tight smile, and there was an awkward silence for a few moments, before Brad got up off the bed and went to the bathroom, returning with a face towel, that he offered to April.

She smiled at him, smiling internally at his social awkwardness, and she cleaned up his cum, resisting the urge to actually lick some up and taste it.

In the end, she got up and got dressed, not knowing quite what to say. He just lay on the bed, naked, watching her.

She finished dressing and leaned down to him and gave him a long, slow kiss on the lips, no tongue.

When she was done she said, "You are pretty damn good there Mr. Flieshman. Very impressive set of skills. I need to hit the sack and sleep it off. See you around, sir."

And she left the room, went to hers, and just crashed, tired beyond belief.

It was the next evening when the real break came. Or, more to the point, the next morning. April had woken a little earlier, mindful of the previous days when she'd had to shoe horn time to review the night's bug recordings. As the previous days, there was a lot to get through, and she needed to do it now.

She drifted out in her robe, set the coffee maker going in the bar and then plugged her earphones in and started the auto sift of what the android tablet had recorded, taking the risk that someone would join her and ask what she was listening to. She had a movie queued up in one of the movie app's to switch to if she was asked.

It took about twenty minutes to listen to, and as she did so, she had coffee and watched as one or two of the recipients of the previous night's largess struggle out into the sunshine and also consume coffee. No one was speaking to each other, except Brenda and John Roaker, who were speaking quietly to each other, body language speaking louder than words. There was definitely going to be a reckoning sometime later, that was for sure.

It was when she got to a recorded conversation in Astrid's room that it all started to come clear.

"So, where we at?"

April guessed that last noise was the sound of a pillow being swung and connecting, since the last statement was made in a very playful tone.

There was one more comment the machine had caught – "We need to be sure we can get the bar duty on the last day. Need to get that Tara chick out of it, so we can do our thing."

It was a vague comment and April was unsure what it meant, but it was obvious to April there was some camera work going on here – some recording of events. That warranted closer investigation. April was undecided on whether to bring in the con man as backup, or just go for it herself. In the end, she decided it would be better to hold Smith in reserve, once she knew more.

The day was a lazy one. They did breakfast late, and in the afternoon Martin took the couples to the beach via the zodiacs boats, and set them on a scavenger hunt, to find specific items in the under growth there. Some he'd planted earlier, some were just natural.

While they were gone, April took the opportunity to both use the hot tub – dropping in another of the bath bomb concoctions her boss had given her, for which she knew she'd catch shit later – and to make a call and check in.

When putting the salts in, she noticed Astrid and Sam watching her and giggling. She noticed they'd already started drinking – both had a glass of something colorful in their hands. April made a mental note to look at the bar later, since she hadn't made those drinks.

She caught their eye, and they raised her glasses to her. Sam got off her chair and came over and asked, "What'ya doing Tara?"

April paused in dropping the bath bomb into the hot tub and, embarrassedly, said "Something that's supposed to help with the ... soreness." She avoided eye contact on the last word.

"Oh!" exclaimed Sam. She glanced back at Astrid and then said, "Could ... we borrow some of that? I totally get where you are comin' from. We ... have the same issues. We've just been popping Tylenol instead..."

April eyed Sam, thought for a second, then said, "Sure. I'll drop some later. Once I'm done here. Cool?"

Sam smiled her innocent smile back and said, "Cool! Thanks!" and then skipped back to her seat with Astrid.

April was sore from the almost non stop sex, and half an hour in the hot tub did wonders for her throbbing genitals, at which point she reluctantly got up in order to avoid skin pruning, and wandered back to her room. The whole time she'd been in the tub, Astrid and Sam had sat, quietly chatting and occasionally looking over at her. She was surprised they hadn't joined her in the tub.

When she got back to her room, she pulled out the phone and connected up.

"Hey April, how's it going?" asked Simon Miles, after the initial connection was made. April marveled again at the technology she was privy to – Simon sounded like he was in the next room. There was no delay, no echo, just clear voices.

"It's going. Hey, thanks again for your help the other night. I still don't know what to do with Kevin at this point. Just leave him be I guess. But thanks for being on call and getting back to me so soon."

"You're welcome. Any leads on anyone else?"

"Just one. I heard some of the other stripper girls talking about having pictures of people. Could be innocent, but I doubt it. They've been taking different couples back to their rooms every night, I think, and what kind of pics are taken when you are all naked? Could be some kind of sex blackmail I suppose. But it seems a bit on the flimsy side to be honest. What if people can't be blackmailed, or aren't ashamed?"