Ingrams & Assoc #2: Retreat
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2015 by Jezzaz

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 2 - April goes undercover, searching for potential bank robbers at a private island retreat, among lots of couples, exploring their sexuality.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Slut Wife   Wife Watching   Group Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex  

Two days later, April found herself on a United flight to San Francisco, to pick up a flight to Fiji later that day, accompanied by Simon Miles, and their two contractors, Mikey and Ramon. The flights were uneventful, and she did her best to relax and prepare herself for the upcoming ordeal.

When they arrived at Shizuoka airport, after dealing with passport control and gathering their luggage, Simon and his colleagues hugged April, wished her luck, and left for their hotel as soon as they could, so as not to be seen with her. April wandered the airport, looking for the pickup she was told to wait for.

Her cover was that of Tara Nesbit. She'd spent almost an entire afternoon concocting and rejecting back stories, not having a clue to what degree they'd need to be good for – she had no idea how much they'd be tested, so to be safe, she'd generated an almost generic one that was actually based of someone else. So if it was tested, it would hold up, even though she was actually impersonating a real person.

Eventually after wandering for twenty minutes, she discovered a little wizened Indian, dressed in colorful clothes, holding up a piece of paper with her cover name on it, misspelled. He smiled at her when she approached him, displaying a mouth full of cracked, brown or just missing teeth.

"You come," said the little man, gesturing, "boat waiting."

April noticed he didn't bother to offer to take her luggage, but since she only had a roll-on and a backpack, she wasn't over burdened.

They went out side, and April was blasted by hot air. Dermot had been right; it was hot out there. She was extremely pleased she'd thought ahead and brought shorts, a floppy hat and a T-shirt with her, and had changed in the airplane, prior to touching down.

They got into an old jalopy sort of car. Not quite the 1950's style you see in Cuba, but more a beat up 1970's estate car. All the rear windows were missing and the seats were covered in brightly colored blankets.

"You come, you come. We go long way," said the little man, obviously impatient to go.

They drove across the island. April noticed how the north side was all long burnt grass, and yet when they drove around the volcano, on the south side, it suddenly because more lush and verdant. April had done her homework – she knew this was to do with the winds on the North side, which took the moisture out of everything. In the lee of the Volcano, the winds calmed and didn't suck the water out of everything.

When they went past the lower reaches of the volcano, she saw several small cave like entrances. Again, the research paid off – she knew what they were. Several of the small caves were places where the populace took shelter when Tsunami's hit the shores, which had happened more than a few times. Those caves had saved many lives, over the years.

Then they were on the other side of the island, where more of the population lived, and where the island's resorts were. Eventually they pulled up short of a small jetty, where two of the larger models of Zodiac were tied up, bobbing up and down slowly. Both had overhangs attached, to shield from the sun, and she couldn't help noticing how heavy the construction of those overhangs were.

On one boat there was two women lounging, both drinking a diet coke. On the other, several boxes, including some freezer boxes, were stacked up. Obviously they were on a supply run at the same time as transporting passengers.

April climbed out of the car and went round the back to get her bags, only to find the little man had got there first and had rushed off with her roll on bag. 'Oh sure, when he's in front of the boss, he's all please and carry, ' she thought. She just shrugged, adjusted the backpack on her shoulder and walked down to the boats on the jetty.

"Miss Nesbit?" inquired a big tan man, who was holding a clipboard. He smiled at her, and she looked him up and down. A big man, at least six foot two, he was well muscled, had brown hair that looked like it had frosting in it, an easy smile and he moved gracefully.

"Yes, that's me. And you are... ?" April smiled back in that anxious way that people do when they are alone and other people appear to know them.

"I'm Martin Steele. I'm the island director. You are right on time. The agency sent us your travel details."

He reached out to offer April his hand so she could step over the large cylinders that made up the side of the boat. As she did so, the wizened old man dumped her roll on into the other end of the boat.

"Thank you, Joe," said Steele, without taking his gaze off April as she clambered over the side. She was glad again for the shorts; getting into a zodiac in a skirt would mean showing the entire world her panties.

Once inside, she found some shade to sit in, opposite the two women already in the boat, who were sizing her up in a very obvious fashion.

"Hi. I'm Tara. Hot enough here for you?" she asked, with a smile, taking off her hat and fanning herself with it. [Who is "she"? Who is saying this line? Please describe Tara or take her out.]

The two girls exchanged a look that April caught. They knew each other then. Interesting, but not that surprising.

"I'm Astrid," said one, and the other immediately piped up with, "and I'm Sam."

There was a familiarity of statement, which indicated to April that Astrid and Sam knew each other well. The ability to finish off someone else's statement and not have them mad at you indicated a long-term familiarity and acceptance. These two were old friends, obviously.

April leaned back against the Zodiac pressure cylinder that made up the side of the boat and took in these two. She knew who they were; she'd seen their personnel files. Astrid Johnston and Samantha Pole – they were the waitresses, ostensibly from the same agency she was supposed to be from. They were, in fact, strippers with elastic morals, there to fuck pretty much anyone who asked, much as she was.

While she'd read their profiles, April had realized early on there was no substitute for actually meeting someone, seeing how they interacted, viewed the world. Watching these two, she could see two people who knew each other, were ok with how they were, were ok with their chosen life occupation, and who didn't give much of a shit about anything or anyone else.

They were giggling, looking around, nudging each other, whispering to each other, looking slyly at April and Martin Steele and saying things and collapsing into giggles. All in all, more like teenagers than women with experience of the world.

April shaded her eyes and tried to make herself comfortable, as the boat cast off, exited the small harbor and hit the open sea. Thankfully, it was a calm day and the Zodiac cut through the water like a knife. There were some waves, but generally, April managed to wedge herself down the side of the boat and just held on.

Martin Steele glanced back at her, smiled and shouted something she couldn't hear. She just smiled back, hoping that was an appropriate response.

Three hours later, Kadavu Island had grown to a lush paradise. They cut round to the east. April did notice signs of habitation, although nothing beyond small villages and huts – no real large buildings or hotels - and after twenty minutes, they turned into a small natural harbor with curved edges on the side. It looked for all the world like a movie set – light blue sea through crystal water, a beach with white sand. Behind that, jungle like foliage, and in the middle of the harbor sat the Oroso Artificial Island.

The literature that she'd read didn't do it justice. It gleamed in the afternoon light, the setting sun reflecting off all the solar panels on its upper decks. It was circular, about three stories tall and looked spectacular. They swept in and tied at the back, where there was a small floating dock, complete with three jet skis. There wasn't enough space for both boats to tie up at the same time, so the one with the passengers tied up first, off loaded its cargo, and then backed off as the second one tied up. Martin Steele jumped in immediately and started off loading the boxes onto the dock, which another man – Mario Tropez, she recognized from the profiles – came out of the side door and, glancing at the new arrivals, started carrying the boxes inside.

April just stood there, clutching her bags, alternately looking up at he island, and back at Martin Steele, who suddenly realized he'd left his charges just standing there.

"Lets get inside."

April found herself inside a small antechamber, circular, with a couple of easy chairs and a long couch, attached to the wall. There were circular stairs in the corner, leading up, and in the walls several doorways, including the one she'd just come through.

"Right," said Steele, as the last of the boxes were deposited on the floor. "Mario, get these stored away. Ladies, lets get you organized. First, Sam, you are in room three. That one. Key is inside." He gestured at one of the doors. "Astrid, you are next door in room four. April, you are in room six. This level is the hired help facilities. The clients have rooms above us. Go stash your stuff, and we'll meet out here in fifteen minutes, and I'll give you the tour."

With that, everyone started to move. April went to the door marked six, and pushed it open, trailing her wheelie luggage behind her.

The room wasn't huge, but it wasn't as small as she was expecting either. Slightly cramped, a bed, a tiny set of bathroom facilities – she sighed in appreciation that even though there wasn't room for a full bath, it had one of those step in tub things, with the door that opens and closes and that can fill with water – the kind of things advertised for seniors. So she could use her bath bombs without having to dump them into the hot tub. That was a small relief.

The main room had almost floor to ceiling windows, but they didn't open. She noticed that the water line was only a couple of feet below the bottom of her window, so it was obvious why they didn't open. She idly wondered if, when the others got here, with the extra weight, if the island would sink down at all, and she might get to see under the waves.

The bed was a queen, which she didn't expect. There was a TV on the wall, wall sconces for light, a small closet and chest to put things in, and a small desk setup. The view outside the window, it looked like a cheap motel room. Which was fine by her. More than she was expecting.

She dropped her bags, used the bathroom and then wandered back out to the antechamber to wait for Steele and the others to show up. They weren't long and she noticed that both Sam and Astrid had changed clothes.

Steele came down the circular staircase and said, "Good, all here. OK ladies. This is Mario Topez. He's the cook here, so be nice to him. He makes the best ribs on the face of the earth, and he also does a wicked full breakfast."

April smiled at his usage of the word "wicked".

"Ok, so lets take the tour."

The girls and April were shown what was behind some of the doors on the "help level" as Steele called it. There were six rooms for the help, two with bunk bed arrangements in them, so it could sleep eight. Behind one room was the small engineering area, where there was a generator, banks of batteries being charged by the solar panels above, a water purifier system, even a small all in one washer/dryer and several other mechanical things that April glazed out over. There was a tiny machine shop in the corner, with things like drills, saws and stuff like that. In the corner was another door, with access to where the fresh water tanks were stored, the heating system and so on.

Behind another door was the large freezer – stacked with enough food, they were informed, to feed them all for three weeks. Behind another door was a tiny first aid suite, just big enough for a bed, a chair, a wall full of drugs behind a locked panel and some basic medical tools. She noticed there was even a tooth extractor on the wall. April idly wondered if anyone present actually had any medical training.

Then, there was the door towards the front of the island – as much as she could tell if there was a front or a back for a round island with no propulsion system.

On opening the door, everyone 'oohed' and 'ahhed'. It revealed a fully furnished media room. There were three levels of lazy boy reclining leather chairs, a projector, speakers all down the walls. At the back there was a large media center, and the screen at the front was probably twenty feet in size. It was like a mini movie theater. There was even a popcorn machine at the back. All the lighting was recessed – even strip lighting under the mantles near the floor.

April stood looking at it, and Martin Steele came up behind her and said, "What do you think?"

April glanced back at him, at the two girls and said, "I can't imagine what porn would look like up there."

He laughed and said, "You'd be surprised. This island comes complete with an eight-terabyte hard drive system with every movie you can imagine, and then some. I don't doubt there is some porn on there."

After that, the rest of the island was viewed through new filters. The upstairs, mid level, was opulent. A center room was circular, with all the newest and most comfortable furnishings. There was a bar on one side, with everything in it you could imagine. A smaller TV was mounted on another wall. Around the side were doors to the six client cabins. April took a peek inside and found to her surprise, they weren't that much bigger than her room. They were better furnished, and the bathrooms were nicer, but apart from that, not much difference. Although, as she looked at the floor to ceiling windows, she discovered another difference. They had a veranda. She opened the door and discovered that there was a veranda that wrapped the living area of the island; each room shared the same veranda. Then she realized that they were actually on top of the help level rooms – they had no veranda, since their roof was the relaxation area for the actual client rooms above.

It was nice. Close, but nice. She found herself wishing she could stay as a guest rather than the help. Then she remembered she was there to do a job, not have a vacation.

One other room on the mid level was shown – the kitchen. April was shocked. It was open plan, large, brand new and had every fixture she could imagine. But what else shocked April was the fact that the walls at the back folded back and the entire room could be opened to the elements. You could literally walk out of your room onto the veranda, walk around the edge of the island, and then into the kitchen, all without going inside at all.

They learned some new facts about the island. It was a beta design – it hadn't actually been proven yet and the owner had agreed to be a beta tester to get it cheaper. It had four anchors, so the island wouldn't rotate in place. Nothing worse than trying to get some sun and the thing you are sitting on rotating it out of view.

The island was stable, and shouldn't rock too much – the natural harbor also shielded them from tropical storms, so even if a hurricane hit, they'd have almost no turbulence. But in that situation, they'd take cover on the actual real island of Kadavu, since it had storm shelters built out of rock.

Then Steele took them outside. And that was a revelation.

There were two levels of outside. One on the main living area, and then another, above it. Smaller, but more compact, it was basically an outside luxury lounge. There was another bar there, a grilling station, several built-in lounge chairs, even a hot tub, all set up and ready for use. There were sweeping stairs that went down to the main living area, at the front end of the island – over the top of the media room downstairs. On the main living level, there were several recliners scattered around, and then Steele nudged April and nodded to one corner, where there was a full massage table setup. There were even several oils on a frame on the wall, and what April recognized as an oil warmer. It was a small jar, designed to have hot water put in it, then the bottle of oil. She was glad to see it, because she only had three bottles of different oil types in her luggage.

She went over and ran her hands over the table. It was obviously brand new. It even smelled like brand new leather. She smiled – elements of this might be fun.

She looked at everyone watching her and said, with a big smile, "Well. We need to break this baby in. Anyone want a massage later?"

She got answering smiles and lots of affirmative noises. And, it turned out, that was the end of the tour, but not before Martin Steele had a few things to say.

"Ok, ladies, Mario. Some ground rules. We know why we are here – we are here to make the following week go well. You may hear things, you may see things, but what happens here stays here. If the clients want to wander around nude, that's their prerogative. You are here to make them happy. Every way we can. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun too. You get to eat what they eat, you get to swim in the lagoon, too. Remember your sun block."

Astrid raised her hand. "Er, question? What exactly are we to do? I mean, I know we are here to be waitresses, but are we just supposed to sit around waiting for someone to ask for something? What are our duty hours?"

Steele looked at her and said, "Your duty hours are 24/7. Basically, if someone asks for something, you provide it. But you aren't expected to be in a maids outfit and hover. You can consider yourself as a guest too – just remember you need to make them happy, ok? Now, during the day, there will be games and events we'll schedule for the clients – things like throwing a case of champagne into the water and letting them swim down and pick it up. Stuff like that. You guys won't be taking part in any of those activities, but otherwise, you get to lie around and soak up the sun, too. Most of your duties will take place around mealtimes, and if you are asked to make a drink. I know you, Tara, are a qualified bartender, so make sure you familiarize yourself with the bar inside, ok?"

The two girls nodded at each other [where did Tara go?] and Steele and then got up and started to wander to stairs down to the help level. Steele called out after them and said, "Dinner is at seven. Be ready."

One of the girls – Samantha, April saw – raised her hand in acknowledgment, and then they went down the stairs.

Steele turned to April and smiled at her – a genuine smile - and said, conspiratorially, "I hope they do a better job than the impression they give."

April glanced over at the stairs and said, "Oh, I'm sure they will. How hard is it to give a blowjob? It reminds me of that old joke."

"What joke?"

"A man is asked, 'describe the worst blow job you've ever had.' And he looks at the person asking and says 'the worst??'"

Steele laughed, and then checked his watch.

"Ok, well, I have to store the new supplies. You should go get your head down for a while – the jet lag is a bitch here, because of how light it is. There's a small remote in your room that frosts the windows, and cuts out all light; it'll help you sleep."

"Oooh, clever! I wonder if I can get a gadget like that for home!" said April, snorting.

"I don't know. Lets just say, it wasn't cheap for this island."

"Can I ask a question?" asked April, with a curious tone.

"Sure," answered Steele.

"How did you come to be here? Pampering rich, sexed up bankers?"

He smiled, and it seemed to April it was a sad smile. "A story for another day," he said, and then added, "I need to get those supplies dealt with. See you at dinner."

And with that, he left.

April wondered. This had to be murder for him. She'd read his file, she knew why he was here, but she also knew his secret, and how hard this must be for him. Martin Steele was gay and had a full time partner at home. He was here for any of the couples who might avail themselves of some same sex opportunities. She resolved to have a one on one drinking session with Mr. Steele and have a long chat about what he actually did – if at all. From what she understood, everyone was heterosexual. But, she was tired and she needed to unpack, and she needed to get the audio bugs planted.


--She went back down to her room, grabbed a few things from her luggage, and decided to take a quick shower, then check out the bed. The shower was great – she felt refreshed, then checked out the bed. She bounced on it a few times – like everyone does, even though they feel like they are seven again – tried laying down on it – and was asleep in seconds.


April woke up, and had to cover her eyes. The view out of her window was spectacular. The sun was setting, and the sky was gorgeous shades of red and gold, behind some clouds on the horizon. The sun was going down over the island, showing up the jungle in the distance as a black silhouette. It was quite breathtaking, and if the sun hadn't been dazzling her, coming right into her room, she'd probably still be asleep.

She checked her watch and found it was six thirty, local time. Just enough time to finish unpacking and to dress for dinner.

But first ... April pulled her luggage to the bed, and dug out the satellite phone. It connected first time and she went through the usual sign / countersign challenge from the person who answered the phone. She was told to wait for a second, then she heard Dermot's voice on the small phone. It was a little tinny, but April was just impressed it worked at all.

"Hey April. There ok? Good flight?" asked Dermot.

"I'm here. My god, this island thing is amazing. Seriously, I'll take pictures to show you when I get back."

"Well, don't be too impressed. It costs over forty million dollars. For that money, it damn well should be amazing."

April suppressed a smile. Trust Dermot to reduce out the experience to the cost.

"Well, I'm installed. I need to plant the bugs – I'll try and get that done tomorrow. They are cooking us dinner tonight, which should be nice. Did the other guys get checked in ok?" she asked.

"Yes, they are established. In fact, they think they've found a fishing boat they can hire, and are planning on fishing off Kadavu Island. That means they'll be local to you, so if you need them, they'll be there that much faster."

"Oh that's great. That's awesome. Yeah, that helps put my mind at rest. Hey Dermot, I gotta run. I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

"Understood, April. Be safe."

The connection broke and April threw the phone down on the bed and sat, staring around the room, trying to figure out where she could plant an audio bug. Since all the rooms were laid out similarly, if she could figure out a place in her room, it was likely that would work in the other people's rooms.

In the end, she settled for putting it just inside the sconce, on the wall. It had a metal frame, so the magnetic bottom of the microphone stuck to it just fine, and if placed correctly, it didn't interfere with the light the appliance threw. She tested recording audio in her room, and found the mike picked up everything perfectly.


--Now she just had to get into the other rooms and plant them. But that was a job for tomorrow. Now, it was dinnertime. What to wear for the first night?


The next two days passed slowly in some ways, and incredibly fast in others. April was handing out massages almost daily to everyone, and spending a lot of time in the sun, swimming and generally relaxing the rest of the time.

She'd spent some time behind the bar, mixing drinks from a book, since one thing she'd never been was a bartender, even though, according to her resume, she was a qualified one. It was all new to her, but she found she took to it like a duck to water.

Astrid and Samantha tried to help by giving her some instruction, but most of that instruction took place with April behind the bar, and the two of them, sitting in front of it, tasting whatever concoction she was currently attempting to master.

Food was sometimes grilled, sometimes prepared in the master kitchen, but whatever it was, it was great to eat. Mario truly was a master of that domain.

April's massages were popular, and she learned even more about the body when Samantha pulled a muscle in her shoulder while swimming. April could feel the knots and worked hard to smooth them out and remove the kink. The more she did the massage, the more she could feel her way around the muscles of the body and the more she began to feel how one muscle could affect another.

Professionally, she kept up with her phone calls back to base, and even spoke with the support team, just checking in. She got an earful of complaints that they couldn't drink beer while they were finishing, in case they were needed, but other than that, everything was as prepared as it could be.

She did manage to place all the bugs. All client quarters were planted, and she'd managed to get into one of the girls rooms and Martin Steele's, but not Astrid's or Mario's. It was actually far harder to place the bugs on the help level, because everyone had already moved in and got their key cards that locked the door. On the living level, no one had yet, so planting them there was easy.

April was biding her time – she had a plan to get into Mario's room, and wasn't sure if it would work on Astrid.

She was going to seduce them.

That night, it was beer pong night. Martin Steele and Mario had spent the afternoon playing golf off the back dock section of the island. They'd driven out some distance markers and just belted special orange balls off the back of the island, and then taken one of the jet skis to go and collect them. There had been beer and they were both in a silly mood.

It hadn't taken long for April to induce Mario for a massage – starting off by giving his shoulders a massage as he sat, then inviting him to the table, downstairs.

Within ten minutes, she had him aroused. It wasn't hard to do - she knew the places to touch lightly, the right suggestive smile, Mario had been drinking and he barely knew what hit him.

When he turned over and his erection pushed up the sheet, she smiled, and suggested they retire to his room, so 'he could get that happy ending he so deserved".

Five minutes later, and they were in his room and April was examining his cock up close. About six inches – respectable – but it was built like a beer can. It was very very thick, and after looking at it for a second, April vowed she would never be letting this anywhere near her pussy, let alone her ass. It would tear her up something fierce. So, blowjob city it was...

She looked up at Mario, from on her knees and coquettishly said, "Can you take a fast shower? I need to be sure you are clean..."

Mario looked down at her, nodded frantically and rushed off into the tiny bathroom.

While he was gone, April planted the bug, smiling to herself.

And then Mario came back from the shower, and it was show time.

April went for it. It would be a tight fit, but she felt she owed it to Mario to give him the full experience.

Looking up at him, and never leaving his eyes, she ran her hand up and down his erect shaft, and pushed her nose to him, inhaling his scent. She made murmuring sounds of arousal, and if possible, Mario's cock got thicker, straining in her hand.

She opened her mouth slightly, smiled and just breathed on his cock. She licked her lips, and then stuck out her tongue and just, barely, brushed the tip of his helmet with the top of it. Mario's cock jerked and she drew back, her smile turning wicked.

She did it again, and again, and each time his cock jerked. "Please..." he said, breathlessly, pleading with his eyes.

Eventually, after doing the same thing a few more times, April took pity on him and suddenly engulfed as much of his cock in her mouth as she could. While April could deep throat like the best of them, she could barely get her mouth around the girth as it was; it wasn't going down any gullet, that was for sure.

Then she was into it. Lots of saliva, coating the cock, and occasionally she pulled away, just so she could say things like "I love this cock" and "Tastes so awesome" – she just was putting out the best Slut In Heat impression she could, and she could tell Mario was responding.

Eventually though, inevitably, she felt Mario stiffening up and mewing and she knew what was coming. The only question she had was, would she swallow or not? She had no idea; it's not like she had a policy about it. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't.

What the hell.

When Mario first blasted, it came out like a juggernaut. He had some powerful muscles behind it, and he was highly aroused. April could feel it jetting into the back of her mouth, and struggled to keep up with it. In the end, there was too much and some of it dribbled out.

She kept her composure though, and rubbing his legs and cock, she showed him her open mouth, swallowed, then showed him her empty mouth. Then she slowly ran her fingers through the excess on her chin that had dribbled out, scooping it up and feeding herself.

 
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