Island Fever 5: Family Ch. 09

Island Fever 5: Family
Written by: JeremyDCP

M/F, F/F and a whole lot more

Chapter 09: "Kinfolk"

-*- Sunday, March 20, 2016 -*-
-*- Sandvika, Norway -*-

By late in the evening Sunday, our kitchen here in the
mansion appeared as if a confection tornado had blown right
through it. And why wouldn't it? Amy had spent the entire
day at home, baking away in preparation for not only Ariel's
homecoming celebration tomorrow, but my birthday party in two
days as well. Amy was whipping up dessert treats for the two
big family events. Ariel had actually arrived home from the
hospital for the first time yesterday, while I would turn 42
on Tuesday, and everyone wanted to have a party (but me).

Finding myself alone as I strolled into the kitchen, I
surveyed Amy's handiwork. There were two plates full of at
least half a dozen different flavors of truffles. Oversized
pretzels dipped in white chocolate were drying on the rack
next to almond bars and fruit tartlettes, which were hanging
out with a plate of giant chocolate chip cookies. Now those
looked delicious! And Amy's masterpiece, her absolute pride
and joy, the red velvet birthday cake, was baking comfortably
in the oven. Well, one of its three layers was.

Obviously, no one at either family celebration would find
the dessert table lacking in any capacity. Amy was definitely
the queen of sugar township and all of its surrounding areas.
The self-appointed housekeeper and cook for our family, Amy
found happiness and joy with all of the hard work she had put
herself through, insisting that she get to handle all of the
dinner and dessert items herself - with minimal assistance.

With no one else in the kitchen, I became overly curious
and began closely inspecting the overflowing trays like a
kid on Christmas morning. Could you really blame me if I...

"Halt right there, buster!" came a voice from directly
behind me. "Step away from the tasty treats!"

Still with my back turned, I froze with a chocolate
covered wafer mere inches from my lips. "No snacks?"

"Nope," Amy answered, only for me to sulk as I turned to
face her. She could not help but to laugh at my sorrowful,
yet highly exaggerated expression. "Sorry, Jeremy. Those
are strictly for the family parties the next two days."

"But I've had a long week and these are so tempting..."

"Okay," Amy relented with a cheerful grunt. "One. That
is it. You can have one. No more, okay?"

"Hmmmmm," I said through a mouthful of wafer. I did not
exactly wait for the conditions to be fully laid out.

"So?" Amy eventually wondered. "How does it taste?" But
Amy already knew. She mastered the art of baking goodies as
a teen-ager and never looked back. Amy could make this stuff
in her sleep. And when served warm, it was like Heaven.

I leaned back against the counter. "I love this wafer.
This wafer and I were made for each other."

"Well, don't forget I was instrumental in your meeting."

"You can be in our wedding."

Amy laughed. "What, you and the wafer? Getting married?
Does this mean I have to share you with a baked good, too,
in addition to all of the other girls?"

There were still strawberries that needed to be dipped,
but I convinced Amy that right now, they were not important.
I wanted to spend time with Amy. Talk to her. Touch her.
All of that, and more. With our seven-month-old daughter,
Dani Grace, already fast asleep in her crib for the night,
Amy picked out a romantic movie in the home theater and we
proceeded to snuggle together on the oversized sofa there.

_Just Like Heaven_, a 2005 film starring Reese Witherspoon
as a ghostly spirit who falls in love with the new tenant in
her apartment (and vice-versa), turned out to be a cute,
little movie. It was most definitely a _chick flick_ - one
of those films that all of the women in my life seemed to
shed tears for and openly fawn over. But I actually enjoyed
watching it. Actually, I enjoyed being with Amy the most.

Amy and I had not spent much time together at all over the
past two weeks, so this was a welcome change of pace for me.
First I was pried away from Amy (and most of the others) for
five days because Pamela's grandmother died, and I had to
attend the funeral in Maryland with her and our daughter,
Piper. Then, just a few days after my return to Norway,
Kristanna was put into early labor at the hospital and gave
birth to our daughter, Ariel, four weeks before she was due.

This past week was quite hectic and rough for me, to say
the least, as Ariel spent more time in the neonatal intensive
care unit (NICU) than we had originally anticipated. But our
little _preemie miracle_ was finally home, and all was well in
my world. Much more on Kristanna and Ariel in a bit...

As the movie _Just Like Heaven_ played on, Amy and I nudged
closer and closer together on the sofa until her head was
snugly tucked upon my shoulder. Cozy was an understatement.
Comfortable was too common of a word for the way Amy and I
seemed to fit together even in casual moments like this. It
was so nice just to relax and spend quality time with her.

As the credits rolled on the screen, Amy pushed herself up
and glanced over at me. "Do you believe in that stuff?"

"What stuff are we talking about?"

Amy motioned toward the projection monitor with her head.
"Fate. The idea that two people are destined for each other?"

"Sure," I shrugged. "What do you think?"

"I don't know," Amy responded. "It's nice and all, but
maybe it's just an idea someone came up with so Hollywood
could roll with it, make endless movies based on the notion.
But that right there was a nice, little movie, indeed."

"It was a nice _chick flick_," I conceded.

Amy smiled and stole a slow kiss from me. "I like it that
you are a romantic at heart, Jeremy. It's very sexy."

"Thank you," I grinned at her.

"I hate to break up our party here on the couch, but I
have a little more work to do in the kitchen before calling
it a night," Amy informed me. "Is that okay?"

"Of course," I told her. "But I want to help."

Amy raised a surprised eyebrow at me. "Really?"

"What can I do to help?" I asked moments later, after Amy
had set to work on reheating the chocolate in the kitchen.

"Umm, you can stir the chocolate in a few minutes when it's
ready and I will get you set up with some strawberries of your
own. Think you'll be able to handle that?"

"Phffffft," I sneered at her. "Are you kidding? This is
easy. I'm a natural at this sort of thing."

As things turned out, I was not a natural at all. A mere
20 minutes later, there was chocolate pretty much everywhere.
On the tray between the strawberries. Across the countertop
in large drops. And all over me. I was a baking disaster.

Amy leaned a hip upon the counter next to me. "Feeling a
little free with the chocolate?"

I glanced back at her with sad eyes. "It won't stay where
I want it to."

Amy nodded sympathetically. "It tends to do that."

"But you make it look so easy."

"Yeah, well, I've had lots of practice," Amy mused. "But
I must admit, you look kind of cute doused in chocolate."

"That's a plus, right?"

Amy leaned in and delicately kissed a spot of chocolate
off the side of my cheek, and also took her time doing it.

I groaned and closed my eyes in response. Hmmmmm, that
felt good. "I knew there was a reason I was bad at this."

"Want to watch a professional in action?" Amy wondered. "I
can do the last couple of strawberries myself."

I looked at her in relief. "By all means, yes, please."

Moments later, I watched as Amy, with pinpoint precision,
dipped the strawberry up to its stem in chocolate, and with a
slow twist of her wrist, pulled it back out and onto the wax
paper. There was not even a tiny drop of chocolate anywhere
to be found. The strawberry was picture-perfect, as if it
had come straight out of a network food show on television.

Amy picked up another strawberry and repeated the same
action, biting her lower lip in concentration. I did a
double take at the visual; Amy was so incredibly hot. She
had put so much time and effort into doing all of this today.
She was definitely the caretaker for our little family.

"And that," Amy told me while placing the strawberry with
the others on the paper, "was the last one." She picked up the
tray and took it off to storage in the walk-in refrigerator.
Alongside them in the cooler were all of the other racks of
dessert goodies for the upcoming two days.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"Clean up," Amy nodded, returning to the counter.

"But there's chocolate left," I said in an innocent tone,
slipping behind Amy at the counter. I swept her red hair to
the side, leaned down, and kissed the side of her neck. Amy,
unprepared for my flirtation, hitched in a breath.

"There's always, um... a little left over. You don't want
to run the risk of, oh wow, running... running out."

I continued to gently kiss my way up Amy's neck to just
below her ear. "You're good at that, you know. Strawberry
dipping," I murmured between kisses as I ran my hands down
the side of Amy's body, tracing the lush curve of her hips.
Amy was impossible to resist. She was just so damn gorgeous
and effortlessly sensual at the same time.

"I enjoy making treats and goodies for our family like
this." Amy leaned back into me, and then surrendered.

I reached around and slowly began to unbutton Amy's blouse.
I peeled it back and eased it from her shoulders, leaning down
to taste the exposed skin there in the process. I turned Amy
around to face me and our gazes locked as one. Amy's lips
were slightly parted, and I quickly descended on them in a
kiss that ignited a flame deep within me. I suddenly needed
Amy, but I was going to take my sweet time and enjoy this.

As I pulled my lips away, Amy stared up at me, her green
eyes ablaze with desire. I reached behind her and got rid
of the white bra that stood in our way, then took a moment
to admire the luscious sight. Standing there before me, Amy
was absolutely stunning.

And then, quite delicately, I took a spoonful of the
excess chocolate, which was still warm, and drizzled it
across the tops of Amy's breasts in a move that had her
gasping wildly. I then lowered my mouth and began to do what
I had been fantasizing about since we returned to the kitchen
from our movie nearly 30 minutes ago.

I tasted the chocolate, licking at first, and then sucking
gently once my mouth found its way to Amy's rigid nipple.
The little, muffled sounds my wife now made only fueled my
determination and I sucked harder, luxuriating in the sweet
taste of the chocolate and the warmth of Amy's skin. Amy's
hands were in my hair as she held on for the ride, pushing
against me, moaning, searching for some type of release.

Once every last ounce of extra chocolate was gone, I
refocused my efforts and unbuttoned the denim capris Amy
wore and watched them slide easily to the floor. I traced
a hand from Amy's breasts, down her body, across her
midriff, her stomach, and stopped just short of the white
panties she wore. "Jeremy," Amy whined at my hesitation.

I slid my hand inside; Amy was already sopping wet.

"Oh God," the 33-year-old managed at that initial touch,
only then to start moving upon my hand.

I spun Amy around in one quick, blinding motion; suddenly
her back was to me, her lush ass furiously grinding against
my pelvis. I guided her over to the circular table for two in
the corner and promptly slapped her ass, first one side and
then the other, spanking just hard enough to sting and drive
Amy into position. She put her head down on the table and
thrust her hips back in full submission as I undid the zipper
on my trousers and pulled her panties down to mid-thigh.

I smacked her ass again with an open palm. Amy jumped.
It was not particularly hard or forceful, but spanking Amy
in this position was quite thrilling. I was helping her warm
up. Finally Amy found her voice and cried out. She yelped
and squealed as the swats began to fall firm and fast.

That sweet, pink pussy glistened between her thighs, and I
could see the hint of the little winking eye of Amy's anus.

"What's the matter, Jeremy, not eat your _Wheaties_ today?"
Amy taunted me with a grunt, clearly wanting harsher treatment.

My response was to give Amy a truly thunderous swat on her
bare bottom. She blushed bright red at the feeling of my
large hands controlling her, punishing her, mastering her.
Enraged by her snippy taunt, I really began to spank her hard,
over and over, in the middle, on the right, on the left, on
the center of her thighs. Amy's ass clenched and twitched as
if flames were engulfing it; thrills of shame and pleasure
obviously coursed all throughout her body.

But just as quickly, the spanking came to an abrupt halt.
I had something even better in mind for my hot, needy wife.

I urged Amy's thighs apart and rubbed her little pussy and
her sensitive clitoris. "Hmmmmm," I murmured with a grin.
"Did you recently wax, Amy? A nice, smooth pussy is my
favorite thing in the whole, wide world, and I can tell that
you waxed since we were last together. Didn't you?"

"Devon helped me with it," she admitted.

"But you waxed strictly for me."

"Y-yes!" The word became a torrid cry of pleasure as I
rubbed Amy's clitoris very firmly. "Almost all of us wax
ourselves for you, Jeremy!" I put two fingers inside her
soaking pussy, then moved them gently in and out.

I stood up straight behind Amy once again, who was still
bent over the kitchen table with her ass perched submissively
in the air. She thrusted her hips toward my crotch, clearly
needing the stimulation, and craving the ultimate release.
But I wanted to prolong the moment a bit.

"Play with your pussy for me, Amy."

"What?" she asked, caught off-guard. "I don't want..."

"Are you going to be a good girl for me, Amy? I am not
going to do one single thing more to you until you obey me.
Am I clear? Now, play. With. Your. Pussy. NOW."

"Yes, Jeremy," Amy sobbed, her ass still on fire, as her
hands slipped beneath her stomach and moved downward.

"That's it," I nodded. "Time to show me that pussy.
Show me how you pleasure yourself when I'm not around."
I paused, watching her intently. "Right hand between your
thighs now, sweetheart. Go in under yourself - I like it
that way. And keep your eyes open."

Amy shivered, and suddenly began to touch herself,
obediently putting her fingers on her sopping pussy and
twirling them about. She moaned. My smile never wavered,
but I certainly grew hungrier with every passing second.

"Now take three fingers and thrust them in and out of
your pussy, Amy. Be a good girl and do it now."

Amy whimpered. She slipped a trio of fingers between her
lush folds and cried out at the wicked feeling that overtook
her. Her hips began to twitch and jerk as she complied,
thrusting the fingers in and out of her slick opening. Amy
was a true submissive and would do whatever I told her.

Unable to stand idly by any longer, I withdrew Amy's
fingers from her pussy and replaced them with my hard,
throbbing cock, jamming it into her with a single, hard
blast. I slipped my right arm around Amy's waistline and
yanked her back, impaling her upon my shaft, filling her
completely. My hand fisted her red hair, arching her head
back, and then it was off to the races.

Wasting no time, the sound of pelvis-crashing-upon-ass was
loud and almost violent. I was in Amy, around her, totally
controlling and consuming her. Her shrieking gasps of erotic
pleasure shivered throughout me, sparking new tendrils of
ecstasy that made me want to drive deeper in her when nothing
I did seemed to get me deep enough. I absolutely plundered
Amy, consumed her, dominated her, my cock battering her cervix,
yanking her back into each thrust by her hips and that fist in
her hair. Yet it was not enough. I still wanted more.

Amy came so explosively that she actually screamed at the
very top of her lungs; every muscle within her body locking
down on me, shaking under wave after wave of crushing desire
too intense to be silently endured. I slammed into her,
trying to get deeper still - once, twice, again - arching
stiffly and muttering curses when the intensity met its end
way too soon. When I wilted over her, I settled my body on
top of hers over the kitchen table and groaned deeply.

"You're incredible," I whispered, resting my head upon her
shoulder and panting hard. I untangled my hand to stroke her
head, sending tender, soothing caresses to mix and intermingle
with the latent orgasmic aftershocks all throughout her entire
body. "You're incredible, Amy. I love you."

I shifted and slipped back out of her, releasing a lewd
trickle of semen to spill down her inner thigh. Amy could
barely move after how I had just taken her over the kitchen
table. All she could do was open her eyes halfway as I rose
off of her and peer back just enough to catch a glimpse of me.
Her mouth opened as if she was about to say something, but
there was only silence. Her face was red, burning.

"You okay, Amy?" I wondered.

After a long pause, she nodded her head and let out a deep,
ragged sigh, then answered, "N-Never been b-better..."

"Go put your apron on," I then instructed Amy, who was
totally nude. "We are going to bed."

Amy gave me a quizzical look, then leaned down and reached
for her G-string panties and capri denims.

"Only the apron, Amy," I clarified, before chuckling. "I
didn't eat my _Wheaties_, right? You wanted to be spanked
harder than what I was giving to you? You wanted more? Well,
you got it, and then some. I want you to wear your apron to
bed - and ONLY your apron - so your wives and Scarlett can see
your beautiful ass and its pink welts, and know that you were
punished in the kitchen tonight. Spanked hard."

Amy glanced up at me, and the look in her tear-swollen eyes
were the perfect example of erotic submission. Amy was a good
girl and good housewife, and knew full well that she belonged
to me. I did not go dominant on her all that often, but when
I did, it was memorable. And it seemed no matter what, she
always wound up craving much more.

Amy gave a tight-lipped nod, instead reaching for her apron
and slipping it on. "Yes, Jeremy."

* * *

As things turned out, Ariel - my daughter with Kristanna,
who was born four weeks premature - was kept at the hospital
for further observation and testing for five days. Labor
was induced early because of medical concerns, and Ariel was
born this past Monday at 1:11am. After nearly three whole
days in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) and two more
in the special care and needs nursery, Ariel was finally
allowed to come home with us yesterday (Saturday).

Her bout with infantile jaundice was apparently over with.
The bili light therapy that Ariel underwent in the NICU had
all but purified her bloodstream of the rogue cells that
caused both her skin and eyes to have a yellowish tent. Any
future occurrences, the hospital staff told us, Ariel's liver
was now mature and developed enough to do the job on its own.
Those cells would always come back - they do in all of us -
yet the liver is constantly working to combat them.

However, during Ariel's second day in the NICU, our biggest
fear from having labor induced early was brought to the
forefront when she was diagnosed with a respiratory issue.
While sleeping, Ariel had bursts of _periodic breathing_, a
common issue with premature infants where their breathing is
paused for up to ten seconds at a time. Each time this had
happened to Ariel thus far, she would follow with a series of
rapid, shallow breaths on her own.

Part of Ariel's central nervous system (brain and spinal
cord) were not yet mature enough to allow nonstop breathing
on its own, specifically while she was asleep.

Because our daughter had not required any resuscitation or
stimulation to regain her breath, the doctors told us there
was actually not much to worry about. This is a very common
ailment in premature babies, they explained to us, and it
often goes away on its own with the simple passing of time.
Her central nervous system needed more time to develop.

If Ariel did require any sort of assistance to regain her
breath, we were told, she would be diagnosed with the much
more severe and problematic _apnea of prematurity_. Newborn
babies with this more frightening issue have their heart
rates momentarily drop and may suddenly turn pale or bluish
because they stop breathing for up to 20 seconds, and often
need help to resume breathing.

Some babies who are diagnosed with apnea of prematurity
are actually allowed to go home with his or her parents, but
have to wear a special device - an apnea monitor - at all
times. A belt wrapped around the chest with sensory wires
and a monitoring unit with an alarm, an apnea monitor
continuously measures the baby's chest movement and breathing
rate. Parents are well coached by hospital staff beforehand
on what to do if the alarm goes off and the baby actually
stops breathing - mostly gentle stimulation techniques and,
if these don't work, starting CPR and calling the paramedics.
Apnea of prematurity usually resolves on its own with time.

Fortunately, Ariel did not have to wear one of these
monitors. Still, that gave us little comfort. Last night at
11:44pm - her first night away from the hospital - Kristanna
nearly panicked when Ariel, who was sleeping at the time,
appeared to stop breathing for eight seconds. Shaking or
jarring Ariel awake to resume her breathing was not an option;
doing so, we were told, could result in severe brain damage.

And last evening, Ariel restarted normal breathing on her
own with no outside help or stimulation. Watching the scene
unfold was quite alarming to Kristanna and I as her parents,
but we had been told a countless number of times this past
week by the hospital staff (as well as nurse Scarlett) that
periodic breathing in infants is harmless and would go away
in the coming weeks and months as Ariel grew and matured.

This past week had been one of the roughest I had ever
experienced in my life. Kristanna was a wreck; she was sick,
but had been released from the hospital on Wednesday. What
that meant, of course, was instead of going home and relaxing
after a difficult childbirth, Kristanna spent the rest of the
day Wednesday and part of Thursday in the NICU with Ariel, and
then the special care and needs nursery until Ariel was
finally discharged Saturday afternoon.

Kristanna was sleep deprived; she was ill, facing the
routine aftermath of childbirth coupled with the mental
anguish that the entire week had brought forth upon her.

I actually felt more concern for Kristanna at this point in
time than I did Ariel. With Ariel, I put my faith and trust
in the doctors (as well as Scarlett), and what they said.
Kristanna, though, seemed to unfoundly blame herself because
Ariel needed to be born prematurely. Kristanna was frightened,
needing to watch and scrutinize every move (and breath) Ariel
took, only then to panic when something did not seem right.

It was unhealthy and not like her at all. Nothing ever
seemed to faze Kristanna or get her down. She never even
once complained about the aches and pains of going through
two pregnancies thus far. Yet, giving birth to Ariel - and
the concerns that went along with it - had changed her mindset
and outlook on everything completely.

Indeed, I was worried for her.

* * *

The oven timer went off and I hurried into the kitchen on
Monday afternoon to retrieve the nachos that Pamela had
prepared as a side dish for Ariel's homecoming party. Pamela
made the most awesome, most delicious nachos known to mankind,
and all of us now had the opportunity to enjoy them. Even Amy
seemed okay with a little help in preparing the great feast as
long as Pamela's nachos were involved.

"Oh, hello there, tasty nachos," I said to the cheesy chips
beneath the oven light. "Where have you been all my life?" I
retrieved the tray from the oven and went about adding the
necessary compliments such as tomatoes and sour cream.

The side door to the kitchen swung open and I noticed a
tray of small shot glasses, but as I raised my gaze, my
breath caught. Because it was Devon who stood there holding
those glasses, offering her patented, sweet smile. Devon's
long blonde hair was pulled into a stylish pony-tail that
looked the perfect addition to her snug-fitting denim jeans
and dark red thermal jacket.

"Delivery," she said with a little tilt of her head. "I
don't know what these are, but Amy asked me to pick them up
from the bakery on the other side of the farm. Sofie, the
girl who works there, had them waiting for me."

"Caramel apple shots," I informed Devon. She had worked
in the farm's bakery in the past, alongside Kristanna, yet
did not know what these drinks were. Hmmmmm. "Drinks for
the party. All part of Amy's grand food plan for today.
Now come over here so I can get a good look at you."

"I've always enjoyed attention."

Devon walked over to the counter and set the tray down,
then I pulled her into my arms for a heated kiss. I really
needed it too, because with everything that had happened to
me in recent times - from funerals to torrid affairs on my
wedding night, to premature babies and a very sick, mentally
tortured wife - I was looking for some sort of normalcy. It
was all I could do to stop from going crazy myself.

"Sorry. I've been waiting to kiss you like that all week."

"True story?" Devon giggled, moving her lips in for more.

"Hmmmmm," I moaned. "And worth the wait."

Once upon a time, there was a sweet, demure girl from
Pennsylvania who dreamed of a life where she would one day
grow up and be part of a big, happy family. At first, the
young Devon considered being a gymnast, and surely the time
she spent practicing helped tone and perfect her crazy,
flexible body into what it is today. With a pair of D-cup
breasts packed onto her little, 100 pound warm-skinned frame,
platinum blonde hair and an ass that arched out triumphantly,
the 29-year-old Devon was surely a luscious sight to behold.

With a mature sophistication and a fierce loyalty to our
way of life that was second to none, Devon was a linchpin
and true cornerstone of our little family. She would
proudly stand up to anyone who opposed our unique ideals.
Devon was also the only wife that I had yet to get pregnant,
but hopefully that would change sooner rather than later.
First, I had to get her to agree to it. Devon enjoyed her
self-appointed role as _house nanny_ too much at the current
moment to have a child of her own just yet.

"It's good to see you all loose and smiley, Jeremy,"
Devon observed. "Back to your normal self, I'm hoping. I
know it has been a rough week, but being with Amy last night
apparently fixed a lot of your problems. Getting laid was
probably the best thing that could have happened to you.
Amy needed it, too. She needed YOU. Trust me, she did."

"We both needed it," I admitted, passing Devon a follow-up
look for emphasis.

Devon sent one hand into the air and let out a spirited
cheer. "Yay, you are back into the swing of things! You got
your mojo back! Now, we just need to work on Krissy."

"Yeah," I frowned. That would be a tall order, indeed.

"So what exactly happened between you and Amy last night?
I haven't watched the video yet in the voyeur room, and I was
asleep when you two came to bed last night. I heard there
was food involved - chocolate syrup, to be precise - and even
a hard spanking. I need all of the sexy details, please."

"How about just the basics?"

"Only if they are sexy basics."

"Fine. We watched a movie together, I helped her a bit
with preparing the desserts and we wound up having sex in the
kitchen. One thing led to another, and I was spanking her."

"Did Amy deserve it?"

I laughed. "Of course she did."

Devon shook her head. "I cannot believe you hooked up with
Sexy Fireball and did not get anyone else involved."

"Amy and I needed that time alone together," I informed
Devon. "I hadn't been with her in two weeks. Much too much
going on in recent times, unfortunately."

Devon was pouting like a little girl. "You haven't been
with me in two weeks, either. Through no fault of your own,
of course. With the funeral, wedding and childbirth all
together within the past two weeks, it's not your fault."
Devon smiled brightly and reminded me, "You and Scarlett
still need to have a proper wedding night."

"That, we do."

"No moody, raging hormones from Scarlett where she feels
tired and out of control, and no Alison anywhere in sight to
pull you away from her," Devon merrily chirped. "I made the
suggestion earlier that you and Scarlett spend the night alone
together tomorrow night - on your birthday - in one of the
guest bedrooms. You and Scarlett can make up for lost time."

"That is actually a good idea," I hummed. "Scarlett is
only two weeks out from our son's due date. We can have the
wedding night that we both originally intended to."

Devon grabbed my belt and yanked me close to her. Her jaw
fell open and she giggled playfully at me. "Then, the next
day, I get to be with you. Or maybe you and Pamela together?
Yeah, a three-some sounds like a much better idea."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Things are looking up."

"Is Krissy still in the central room with the others?"

"Yes," I told her.

"Are the nachos ready?" Amy asked me as she strolled into
the kitchen. "Oh... hey Devon," she then greeted, flashing
her wife a big smile. "Oh, you got the caramel apple shots!"

"I sure did," Devon nodded. "But I'm leaving them in your
care for now. I want to see Krissy." With that, Devon turned
on a boot-heel and ventured into the nearby central room.

"Devon is hot."

Amy's mouth fell open in mock outrage in response to my
words, and I answered with a teasing poke to her ribs.

"Oh, you are hot too, my sweet and wonderful bride," I
assured Amy. "Trust me, I enjoy having you around, too."

Amy rolled her eyes and giggled. "Gee, thanks. Does
that mean that I actually get to stay?"

"How about we vote on that later?" I prodded her.

"I will vote yes," Trish said as she entered the kitchen.

"What are we voting on?" a familiar voice from behind her
asked. I smiled as Lindsay followed Trish, who was carrying
Jackson, into the kitchen and hung her button-up sweater on
the rack. She promptly went over to Amy and gave her an
all-out kiss on the lips, then did the same for me.

My eyes moved from Lindsay to Trish to Amy. A blonde, a
brunette and a red-head. A tiny smile came to my face as I
wondered if my life could be any better than this. Oh, and
four more blonde wives waiting for us in the next room. And
Alison. I certainly had everything I could ever dream of.

"Oh, we're voting on whether or not Amy gets to stay and
be part of the family," Trish announced.

Dumbfounded, Lindsay laughed. "Wh-What? Excuse me?"

"It's just Jeremy trying, but failing, to be mean," Amy
explained with a smile. "Don't listen to them."

All of a sudden, Trish, who was standing next to me with
our five-week-old infant son, Jackson, in her arms, leaned
over and kissed me. It caught me by surprise, but in no way
was I complaining. "What was that for?" I quietly murmured.

"You're too irresistible not to kiss."

My eyes loomed large as Trish giggled at my reaction to
her words. Not too often did someone refer to me as being
_irresistible_. It was a nice and welcome compliment, indeed.

"Jeremy, Krissy wants her nachos," Trish then said to me.
"We were sent here in search of nachos. Devon just came out
and said they are ready. Krissy wants them." Trish tilted
her head and ended in an exaggerated, playful tone, "NOW."

"I'll take the nachos out, Jeremy," Amy volunteered.

When I exited the kitchen and made my way into the adjacent
central room, Kristanna eased herself onto the computer desk
and eyed Pamela intently. "You're the greatest of the great.
You know that, Pammy? And dependable, trustworthy. I feel as
if I can always count on you to cheer me up."

"Don't forget I'm the cute one. I'm also that."

Kristanna chuckled. "D'oh! That, you are. Just look at
you - five-feet-six inches of adorable."

Once Amy followed behind me with a tray of nacho goodness
and placed it upon the coffee table, several of the ladies
and our guests for Ariel's homecoming party descended on it
all at once. I took the liberty of grabbing the first plate
and giving it to Kristanna, who I knew was not feeling well.
She was still recovering from childbirth and was constantly
afraid that Ariel would stop breathing for good in her sleep.

"Thank you, Jeremy."

"What were you and Pamela discussing?"

"Oh, just how awesome she is," Kristanna told me, flashing
her beloved wife a smile, and even blowing her a kiss. "I
guess last week before I went into the hospital, when we were
at Quisling Castle for the wedding, Pamela wrote me a little
love letter. She just now gave it to me minutes ago."

"What does it say?" Lindsay inquired.

"Do you mind sharing?" Trish clarified for Lindsay.

"Not at all," Kristanna responded, shaking her head. She
unfolded a piece of paper and began reading it aloud.

"Dear Krissy,

You are so incredibly beautiful.

I say this to you every single day, but it bears repeating
over and over again. Please know it. Remember it. Feel it.
You are so incredibly beautiful.

The journey of pregnancy for a woman is truly unique and
amazing. It's empowering, it's natural, it's surreal, and
utterly impossible to fully grasp and understand without
having experienced it first-hand. Fortunately, I have.

Your body has gone through so much over the past eight
months. Emotionally and physically, it has been intense.
There have been highs, there have been lows, but you always
seem to keep your head up and grace us with your smile.

But I digress...

The point of this letter is you, now, the beautiful woman,
and my beautiful, pregnant wife.

My God, you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

The way you are.

The way you evolved with your baby over these eight months.

The way you nurture and love that little soul within you.

I can say with absolute truth, Krissy, that you have never
been more beautiful to me than you are right now.

I love you with all of my heart.


"Awwwww," Amy swooned in response once Kristanna finished
sharing the love letter. Trish and Lindsay, as well as the
pregnant Scarlett, were tearing up and becoming emotional.
Devon went over to Pamela and gave her a long, drawn-out hug.
It was her way of saying _thanks_ for cheering Kristanna up.

"I wrote that for Krissy the night Jeremy and Scarlett got
married at Quisling Castle," Pamela explained to the small
gathering. "But with her induced labor the next day, and
little Ariel's health issues this week, I did not know whether
or not I should actually give the letter to her."

"I'm glad you did," Kristanna mewed, dabbing at the excess
moisture in her eyes. "Being respected and validated, truly
seen, is honestly one of the greatest gifts a relationship
can bring. That letter is so incredibly nice and sweet. Oh
my God, Pamela, I love you so much."

In addition to my seven wives and all six of the little
children, Alison was relaxing in the central room, as well as
Kristanna's parents, Kristof and Rande, and our three good
friends - Mike, Carolyn and Barbara (our private flight crew,
and a three-way couple themselves). It was, after all, a
private, little party to welcome Ariel into our lives. All
five guests were very near and dear to our hearts.

Everyone seemed to settle down and enjoy not only the
fantastic, delectable goodness of Pamela's nachos, but also
Amy's tasty array of dessert treats. Malted milk balls,
chocolate-covered pretzels and strawberries, and all kinds
of ice cream (krokan in Norwegian) were readily available.
Not to mention several other delights.

Amy studied Trish for several seconds. "Sometimes, I have
to hate you, Trish. How can anyone look as good as you do in
plain, all black pajamas? Why can't I look as good as you do
in plain, all black pajamas?"

Trish shrugged. "Who says you don't?"

Lindsay giggled and patted Amy on the wrist. "Not many
people are blessed with Trish's effortless style. She can
take any outfit, no matter how plain or tragic or extreme it
may be, and make it look incredibly trendy and sexy."

Indeed, Trish looked marvelous in slender fitting black
sleep pants and a black camisole top that illustrated her
toned, sleek torso. Her hair was down this afternoon and
fell in dark, thick waves across her shoulders and back.
No one could ever possibly guess that Trish, a total fitness
enthusiast, gave birth just five short weeks ago. Her body
looked as trim and as sculpted as ever.

"Are you reading any books at the moment, Pamela?" Rande,
Kristanna's mother, asked. She and Pamela both loved to
read and enjoyed talking about books with each other.

"Finishing _The Princess Bride_ now."

Scarlett rolled her eyes and giggled. "Hate to spoil it
for you, Pamela, but they end up together. Like always."

"And what's wrong with that?" Pamela wondered.

Scarlett shrugged. "Nothing I suppose. But only if you
like boring and predictable."

Pamela looked at her in (mock) shock. "I cannot believe
you just said that, Scarlett. There is nothing boring about
happily ever after. Nothing boring at all."

"In books there is," Scarlett offered.

"No. You cannot say that." Pamela shook her head and
added, "We should draft a formal letter, vote, and force
Scarlett to read every happily ever after book there is.
Lindsay, draft a letter. You're the scary one."

The 21-year-old's eyes went wide. "I am?"

"No, that's Jeremy," Devon corrected her, smiling.

With a vast buffet of chocolate covered pretzels and
strawberries in front of her, not to mention brownies and
cookies, Alison appeared to be in sugar rush Heaven. She
raised a hand and placed the other upon her heart. "And
then God said, let there be chocolate."

"Damn straight he did," Trish agreed, slowly licking
chocolate off of her thumb with the sexy finesse that only
she could muster. Almost all eyes were suddenly on her to
take in the amazing visual. Trish liked the attention, too.

Pamela, meanwhile, was enjoying one of her famous nachos.
Actually, she and Kristanna were enjoying it together,
Pamela had since moved and was seated with Kristanna, and
the two ladies were splitting the hot, crunchy tortilla
inbetween little hugs and kisses.

But the V.I.P. of the homecoming party was none other than
Ariel herself. The one-week-old angel was sleeping rather
peacefully in a portable baby bed with Scarlett seated right
next to her here in the central room. While most newborns
sleep around 16 hours per day, Ariel was actually exceeding
20. Again, that was quite common for a premature baby.
Ariel was waking up about every three hours to feed and then
generally going back to sleep shortly thereafter.

The two oldest children, Kaden and Piper, were playing
with plastic toy blocks alongside Kristof, Kristanna's father.
Dani Grace, Amy's seven-month-old daughter, was taking in all
of the surroundings while in the middle of _tummy time_ upon
the floor. Amy, of course, kept a close, watchful eye on her.
Dani Grace was just beginning to learn how to get around on
her own. She could not crawl quite yet; Dani Grace sort of
slithered around (which took a lot of energy and effort).
Each day, she was getting stronger and more mobile.

Amy held up a hand. "Has anyone else noticed that Krissy
has yet to take her eyes off of Pamela?"

"I think she hearts her," Lindsay theorized.

Trish giggled. "Ya think?"

"It is so cute," Amy said.

"Don't worry," Kristanna told the group with a healthy
smile. "I heart all of you."

In the mass of humanity gathered into this one, single
room of the estate, I locked onto sweet Alison - Lindsay's
younger sister from Ohio - and caught gazes with her. She
offered me a shy, timid smile while tucking several strands
of blonde hair behind her right ear.

Had I spoken to Alison, other than a word here or there,
since Kristanna went into labor a week ago? The last time I
really remember talking to Alison, in fact, was when she was
beneath me as I thumped her in the missionary position on my
wedding night with Scarlett at the castle. That was nine
days ago. Alison was such a nice, wholesome, good girl, and
even proclaimed her love for me that particular evening before
all Hell broke loose when the others caught us together.

I really needed to hook up and connect with Alison. The
sooner, the better. I wanted to tell Alison that I loved her
too, and I wanted to take care of her for the rest of her
life. There. I said it. Lindsay would be so happy.

But that discussion needed to take place in a much more
intimate, and private, setting. Not in front of guests.

But then I noticed Lindsay staring at both Alison and
yours truly with the biggest, toothiest smile upon her face.
She fully realized that Alison and I had been silently
admiring each other for the past several seconds. And, it
obviously warmed her heart. Lindsay wanted her younger
sister to have a spot in our family more than anything.

Trish noticed it too, but instead took a newspaper and
playfully bopped Lindsay in the head with it. Lindsay shot
her a glare and soothingly rubbed the top of her head as if
she had actually been injured.

"Will someone pass me the hot fudge so I can stop this
futile attempt of finding it myself?" Kristanna asked.

"I'll get it for you, baby," Pamela volunteered, already
having sprung up and gone into action with the search. Now,
I looked at Pamela and silently admired her. She wore mostly
black today, but her high-heeled shoes had a streak of orange
running through them. Different and edgy. Pamela had her
hair up in some sort of twist that I could not even begin to
describe. All I knew was that it appeared fabulous on her.

Pamela was indeed sexy. Her look. Her vibe. The streak
of orange on her shoes. I pictured that hair tumbling around
her shoulders if she were to reach out and free it from the
pins that held it it place. Now _that_ would be a visual
that I would carry with me the rest of the day. I wanted to
push my hands into that sumptuously thick hair and...

"What's that look for?"

I blinked back into reality. "What look?"

Devon giggled at me. "You were ogling Pamela."

"Can you blame him?" Trish offered.

"Jeremy has been ogling all of us since the second he came
out of the kitchen," Lindsay observed.

"It's what he does," Amy nodded. "He ogles."

"He _Googles_?" Scarlett chirped. "I love to _Google_."

"Shut up, Scar-Scar," Devon scorned her, grinning.

After delivering a healthy bowl of hot fudge chocolate to
Kristanna, Pamela promptly made her way over to me and plopped
herself down directly across my lap. She slid her arms around
my neck and serenaded my mouth with a deep, sensual kiss. "Oh
Jeremy, I love it when you ogle me!"

I hooked an arm around Pamela's trim waist, holding her in
place. Suddenly, I did not want her to leave this spot. She
was fine right here, in my lap, well within kissing distance.
There was no need for Pamela to leave it for several hours!

But when Pamela began to squirm about upon my lap, clearly
taking notice of the half-hard lump from within my trousers
nudged against her thigh, a fire suddenly raged inside of me.
I put my right hand on the back of her head and pulled her
mouth to mine for a hot, scorching kiss. She resisted at
first, perhaps caught off-guard, but then surrendered and
returned the kiss with equal fervor and passion. When I
slipped my tongue into Pamela's mouth, my hand trailed down
her neck and shoulders, to her back, and finally her ass.
Oh, that ass felt so incredibly perfect against my hand...

"Maybe you two should get a room."

Lindsay's words, as well as the sneery giggle that went
along with them, again pulled me back into reality. I broke
the kiss and withdrew my hand from that sweet ass, quickly
remembering that we had guests in our home with us right now.
Not only were Kristanna's parents here, Kristof and Rande,
but so were our family friends, Mike, Carolyn and Barbara.
None of them needed to watch as I groped away on Pamela.
Nor did Kaden or Piper, for that matter.

Scarlett shook her head at Devon, who was indulging herself
in a sea of dessert treats. "I hate it, Devon, that you can
eat whatever the hell you want and never gain an ounce."

"I hate you for this too, by the way," Amy informed Devon.
"Pencil me in on the hate train."

Trish was giggling. "Amy is full of hatred today!"

Devon simply shrugged and smiled, her tiny frame and tanned
aura of intense beauty suddenly under the proverbial spotlight.
That, of course, was nothing new.

Lindsay handed Alison a green vegetable, which she quickly
snatched and took a bite out of. "Cucumber. Your favorite."
When Alison nodded her head in acknowledgment, Lindsay smiled.

"I have had a very rough week, as you all know, and I have
been feeling quite miserable," Kristanna suddenly announced to
us. Pamela quickly got out of my lap and went over to our
beleaguered wife to offer her some loving encouragement as she
continued, "I did not expect Ariel to be born so suddenly, and
with all that time in the NICU and away from her, not being
able to hold her, it... it messed with my senses something bad."

"You know we are all here for you, Krissy," Amy pined.
Nearly everyone in the room nodded with that assessment. The
concern we all felt for her was certainly off the charts.

"But today, with this party, I think I have turned the
corner," Kristanna breathed. "When we all get together and
talk about silly, mindless stuff - just, everyone spending
time together - it reminds me of just how awesome our family
is. It reminds me of how much I love each and every one of
you, and how I could not survive a single day without you."

"Jeremy ogling Pamela is NOT silly or mindless," Devon
told Kristanna with a smile. "It's just creepy."

"We love you too, Krissy," Trish chimed in. "Jackson, my
baby boy, has his own issues. He still has torticollis in
his neck, though it is getting better. All of you were there
for me when I needed the love and support. Same for you,
Krissy. We are here, and will do whatever we can for you and
your daughter. But you have nothing to worry about. Ariel
will grow up healthy. There won't be any complications."

"I'm proud of you," Pamela informed Kristanna, hugging her.
"You've had a very rough week, yes, but you stood up and got
through it with your head held high. That's to be commended."

Kristanna rose from the stool. "I, for one, am prepared
to let off a little steam." She took a long drink of her
iced tea and proclaimed, "I think I need to dance like a
crazy person. Anyone want to dance like a crazy person?"

"I'm in," Pamela said, accepting the hand that Kristanna
offered her. Suddenly, the two ladies went to the middle of
the central room and began bumping to an unheard beat.

"We need some music," Scarlett observed.

"I may be tired and exhausted, and high on pain medication,
but I got the urge to dance!" Kristanna exclaimed, a hint of
her famous charisma and zest for life evident in her voice.

"Just don't overdo it," Pamela warned her.

Soon, Kaden and Piper rumbled over to their respective
mothers and joined in on the rage. When music began to play,
Kristanna closed her eyes and seemed to let the moment
resonate, trying to cleanse her mind and body of all of the
stress and anxiety that she experienced this past week.

Two songs in, Pamela was no longer by her side. She had
been replaced by Lindsay, who definitely knew how to move in
her own right. The dancing grew closer and Kristanna seemed
to enjoy the brushing of hips, hands and thighs.

"What's your name?"

"Lindsay," she giggled in response.

Her wife leaned in close to her ear. "I'm Kristanna."

Lindsay was still chuckling. "Nice to meet you."

"You should totally give me your phone number."

Lindsay grinned. "And why is that?"

"Because I think you and I have lots to talk about. And
dance about, among other things. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, I definitely do."

"You're really beautiful. You know that?" Before she had
time to respond, Kristanna's lips were on Lindsay's, who did
not seem shy about reciprocating. It was a pretty good kiss
too. There was a sure-fire sizzle and spark between them.
Kristanna was so beloved and revered in our family, though,
that one could say that about her and any of us. She was,
after all, the one, true matriarch.

Kristanna danced the rest of the afternoon away with anyone
who wanted to take a turn with her, only pausing to tend to
Kaden and/or Ariel when necessary. She even danced with Mike,
Carolyn and Barbara. It was the kind of fun that Kristanna
needed right now. The kind that she did not have to think
about. Just let loose with no worries, and enjoy herself.
Get back on the road to being her usual, energetic and happy
self. The Kristanna that we all knew, and loved.

Thus, the homecoming party was a rousing success. And
everyone walked away from it feeling much better themselves.

* * *

Lindsay opened the refrigerator door and surveyed what she
had to work with. "I have great news," was her assessment.

"What great news?" Alison asked, emerging from the side
door and stepping into the kitchen with her sister as well.

"I have everything here in order to make your favorite, a
grilled chicken sandwich." Lindsay glanced back over her
shoulder at Alison, who was suddenly beaming with delight.
It was nearing midnight and Alison felt like going on a
refrigerator raid. She was hungry after the party earlier.

"Remember when we were kids growing up?" Lindsay added.
"I used to make grilled chicken sandwiches for you after
school. Mom never liked me using the stove, but I did not
care. Lettuce, tomato, pickles, mayo, avocado, cheese...
plus olive oil, honey, lime juice, chili powder, cumin AND...
fresh chicken breasts. We are in _bidness_!"

Alison looked even more appetizing than the proposed
sandwich snack as I eavesdropped on these two ladies from the
comfort of my voyeur room. Alison wore a black t-shirt that
read _Cute But PSTCHO_ across its front and came just to the
tops of her thighs. The amount of skin on display was purely
spellbinding. Alison had slender, awesome legs, very smooth
and olive-toned, and I had the sudden urge to worship them as
I gawked at her immense beauty via the surveillance system.

Alison also had several bracelets dangling from her right
arm. Actually, lots and lots of bracelets. Sort of her own
personal trademark, Alison was like a mobile boutique.

"Mom used to get mad when you would fix anything on the
stove," Alison reminded Lindsay as she slid up and onto the
counter. "Mom always thought you would burn the house down.
It all stemmed from that incident when you almost did, I
guess. Remember the toaster caught fire when you were eight?"

"That was not my fault."

"Yes, it was." Alison giggled and shook her head. "You
wanted to see just burnt a piece of toast could get.

As Lindsay laid out the ingredients for the midnight
snack, she accidentally dropped the chicken breast and it
landed on the floor. "This plan is beginning to backfire."

"It better not," Alison told her. "I'm hungry."

"No worries," Lindsay mused, reaching down and disposing
of the chicken breast, only to retrieve another from the
refrigerator. "Get me a ziplock bag, Ali, so I can mix
the marinade together. In the cabinet above your head."

"Ziplock bag? This is sounding fancy."

"It really isn't."

Alison found a ziplock bag in the cabinet and handed it to
her older sister. She looked on as Lindsay began to do her
thing, preparing the marinade and putting the meat inside.

"It's been really eye-opening here over the past two or so
months. You would always tell me about Jeremy and all of the
other girls, Lindsay, how wonderful your life was. I believed
you, you know, but I also didn't believe you. I mean, how can
anyone's life be as good as what you described?"

"I understand," Lindsay nodded. "Seems too ideal."

"But everything you told me was the truth," Alison said.
"Everywhere you turn, there is someone who loves you. You
feel like being with a man today? There is Jeremy. A girl?
Well, you have multiple girls to choose from. Or do you want
to relax and just chill out with a baby? Plenty of them here,
too. One big, happy family all of you are. You live in a
huge, sprawling mansion, and Norway is just beautiful, and so
nice. You lead a fairytale life." Alison smiled at her. "I
still cannot believe that you are actually a mommy, too.
You're only 21. Kaylee is so, so precious."

"Thank you," Lindsay grinned in response, turning on the
grill and pouring some cooking oil onto it. "But I'm glad I
became a mother at such an early age. You know, Ali, that
I've always wanted to be one. I just wish Dad was still
alive so he could be a part of Kaylee's life. When I put her
down in her crib 30 minutes ago, I told her a story about Dad.
I will tell her many stories about him in the future."

Alison frowned, her lovely face now full of morbid sorrow.
"I miss Dad so much. He's been gone three-and-a-half years
now. I bet... didn't Jeremy fill some of that void for you
at first, Lindsay? You once told me he was a father figure
to you. You know, the void from Dad no longer being alive?"

"No one would ever replace Dad, obviously. But Jeremy did
help fill that void, especially at first," Lindsay admitted.
"Dad being gone, us not having any brothers, when I first went
to the island in 2013 I really needed a strong male presence
in my life. Jeremy turned out to be that, and much more. He
became a strong fatherly presence for me. I looked up to
him, respected him, so very much. He was so easy to fall in
love with. Everything he did, he did for me. For us girls.
Jeremy being twice my age certainly helped out a lot. I have
always felt very submissive to him because of the difference
in ages. If Jeremy was not so much older than me, there is no
way I would feel as strongly as I do about him."

Alison giggled. "Does Jeremy really put you over his
knee and spank you, punish you? I just cannot see him doing
that. Jeremy seems way too nice and easygoing, passive."

"Oh yes, he does," Lindsay assured Alison (and my cock
began to twitch within my trousers with sudden life at the
mere idea). "He hasn't done it to me in a long time - not
since I became pregnant - but apparently he just spanked Amy
last night right here in the kitchen. She came to bed with
his big, red, paw-prints all over her butt."

Alison seemed intrigued. "Does he do that to all of you?"

Lindsay shook her head. "No, not all of us. I've never
seen him spank Kristanna or Scarlett. Kristanna would have
none of it, trust me, and Scarlett is not interested in even
a little pain or force. Nor is Trish. But Jeremy has spanked
me and Amy a lot, done it to Devon before too. Has put all of
us into light bondage before, too. And I think, slowly but
surely, Pamela is bec

Island Fever Ch. 12

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