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M/F, F/F & just about everything else
"All I know is that I want Jeremy. I'll go through Pamela
to get him, if I have to."
Those words - a direct quote from Devon (to Cassidy) from a few
nights back, continued to ring throughout my head. But what exactly
did Devon mean when she said those words?
It was flattering enough that a gorgeous, picture-perfect woman
such as Devon "wanted" me. I am just a normal man, as
I have stated many times in the past. Devon, on the other hand,
was a ravishing blonde who could easily have her pick of just
about any man (or bi-sexual/lesbian woman) in the whole, wide
world. On the surface, it did not seem right that I, of all people,
was the one Devon was lusting after.
In the past, I would have immediately thought that Devon had dollar
signs in her eyes when she looked at me. I was a billionaire who,
in the past, had been a prime target for money-hungry women. For
years, I failed at relationships because all it seemed that women
really wanted from me was my money. Or, how much of it they could
get.
But Devon was not that way. In fact, none of the ladies on the
island could be classified as gold-diggers - thanks to Christina's
computer program, which processed the long, detailed questionnaires
all of the applicants filled out. It sifted through the bad seeds,
and gave me a list of the women who were most compatible with
what I wanted in life. And the last thing I wanted, of course,
was a gold-digger.
So if Devon was not after me for my money, what was it? What attracted
a gorgeous, luscious blonde such as Devon to a normal, ordinary
man like myself?
My theory on why Devon liked me - as well as all of the other
ladies on the island - was that not only did I have a very good-natured
attitude toward them, but I was also very respectful. I was overly
respectful in many ways, in fact - but that was just my personality.
I couldn't change that.
I would sit and listen to all of the ladies if they had a problem
- no matter what it was. I would talk to them about the problem,
and try my best to help them get through it. That was my nature.
I was a very caring person.
I was very respectful of not only them, but their inner feelings
and thoughts as well. I wanted nothing but for all of these women
to be happy in life - and they knew that. They appreciated it,
too.
A common denominator amongst all of the ladies I had brought to
the island was that at one point in their recent life, they had
a devastating break-up with a man they loved very dearly. In all
of those cases, the man turned out to be not only the culprit,
but a rotten apple as well. This even applied to Lindsay, who,
of course, first came to the island several months ago with her
virginity still intact.
A heart-wrenching end to a very recent relationship (with a bad
man) had been a requirement of mine when Christina's computer
program processed those thousands of applications. Each lady had
to have one - with an extremely cold-hearted man - to even be
considered for the island.
Yes - I wanted to catch them "on the rebound".
My simple reason for that was with my soft-spoken nature and respectful
attitude, these ladies would warm up to me rather quickly. Some
may have thought that most of the men in the world were evil,
thanks primarily to what a single one had recently done to them.
I, on the other hand, would be a reminder that there was plenty
of good men to go around.
The original theory was that with each woman coming off a bad
relationship, they would perhaps cling to me a bit harder. They
would find peace and solace with me and, in some cases, love.
The main reason why I brought the first batch of women to the
island, six months ago, was so that I could possibly find myself
a bride. I have detailed that before.
Pamela, who of course turned out to be my bride, had a rather
nasty break-up with her most recent boyfriend while in Baltimore
- before the island was even a thought to her. The guy, from all
accounts, was a real jerk. He took advantage of Pamela and her
good nature, and wound up humiliating her in front of all her
friends.
One of Pamela's attractions toward me was that I was such a good-natured,
easy-going type of guy. I rarely got even a tiny bit upset, and
I treated her with the utmost amount of respect. I would never
do a thing to harm Pamela (or any of the other ladies), whether
it be physically or emotionally. They were angels to me, and I
treated them as such.
My soft-spoken, respectful nature was a major reason why I had
the honor and privilege of calling Pamela my wife.
"All I know is that I want Jeremy. I'll go through Pamela
to get him, if I have to."
My best guess for why Devon "wanted" me was because
of the type of person I was. She had recently come off of a relationship
where the man in her life had cheated on her, behind her back,
with two very close friends of hers.
In fact, Devon never had much success with any men throughout
her life. All of them looked at her stunning, mega-voluptuous
body, and had nothing but lust in their eyes. And as a result,
they treated her like an object.
Of course, I had very similar thoughts about Devon. The main difference
between myself and most men, however, was that I could mask my
feelings, or completely hide them.
Although I looked at Devon as a pure sex machine, I still treated
her - outwardly - with the highest level of respect. According
to the application that she filled out, no man had ever truly
cared about Devon. The young woman claimed that every man in her
life wanted nothing but sex from her.
While I had similar thoughts about her - Devon was just too beautiful
to think otherwise - I still cared about her. I may not have directly
shown that to Devon yet, but I cared about her, and she knew it.
I cared about all of the girls.
Perhaps Devon sensed my caring nature, and that was why she "wanted"
me so much. I was - maybe in her eyes - the first man in her life
who would treat her as an actual person. It seemed to make sense.
"I just think Jeremy is an incredibly nice, and good person,"
was another thing Devon had said to Cassidy that fateful night,
as I eavesdropped on their discussion from my voyeur room. "Pamela
sure is lucky to have found him, and married him ... I wish I
found him first. I'd love to have a husband as sweet as him."
So, it looked like I had the first part of the puzzle solved.
Devon had her sights set on me because, in her own words, I was
"incredibly nice", a "good person" and "sweet".
I was everything that she hadn't experienced yet, in a man.
The second part of the puzzle was what worried me, though...
"All I know is that I want Jeremy. I'll go through Pamela
to get him, if I have to."
Devon would go through Pamela - my wife - to get to me? Now what
exactly did that mean? Would she take Pamela on and perhaps challenge
her, and try to prove to me that she would be a better wife?
Or, was Devon insinuating that she would try to woo Pamela into
liking her? That way, perhaps, I would notice Devon - because
she was with my wife - and then both Pamela and I would accept
her into our lives on a long-term basis.
Here are some other things that she said that night...
"I found the perfect guy for me ... Unfortunately, he is
married to someone else - Pamela."
"I don't want to hurt his marriage. Plus, I don't hold anything
bad against Pamela. I think she is really nice..."
"I'd love to be a play-thing for Pamela and Jeremy, especially
Jeremy. I always have had a submissive side, though it's really
not been explored yet..."
The last two quotes seemed to hint that Devon was warm to the
idea of interjecting herself into not only my life, but Pamela's
as well. Perhaps she wanted to be our submissive? But that would
mean she would be treated like an object more often than not.
I thought she didn't want that...
I was confused.
No matter what, I'll always go back to the main quote of hers
from that night. She would go through Pamela in order to get to
me. Perhaps I took it the wrong way, but those words seemed rather
threatening and ominous.
If Devon had any intention of harming my marriage with Pamela
- even in the slightest way - I would not hesitate in sending
her home. Pamela was my wife, and I loved her. I would not allow
anything to come between us.
Although I lusted after Devon in the worst way possible, I would
send her home in a heartbeat if she posed any sort of a threat
to my marriage with Pamela. But that is what I had to figure out.
Was Devon a threat?
I would soon find out, as tonight was Devon's turn in the "rotation"
to spend the evening with me.
* * *
"I just need to feel like I'm wanted; that I'm necessary,"
Devon said to me later on, after I had confronted her with my
thoughts and fears.
I had earlier told Devon that I got the sense she had her eyes
on me a little too much, and that I had the feeling she may pose
a threat to my relationship with Pamela. Devon shot that down
immediately, however, saying that Pamela was too nice of a person,
and she would never harm our marriage. Devon simply said she liked
both Pamela and myself, and would appreciate the opportunity to
get even closer with us.
"I haven't felt like I was wanted or necessary... really,
at any point in my life," Devon told me, as our discussion
continued. "It's been one bad relationship after another.
Most recently it's been Keith, then Jennifer. For whatever reason,
I loved them very much. But they didn't love me."
Does this conversation sound similar to the one I had with Torrie
a few days back?
"I just get the sense that you are different, Jeremy,"
Devon continued. "Sure, you enjoy sex, and you have urges.
You brought all of us to this island so we would have sex with
you, and each other. But I still think you're very different than
everyone else I've ever in my life."
"Why is that?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"Because you're so nice, and thoughtful," she replied.
"From the very first moment I saw you, I seen it in your
smile... your eyes. You're different."
"Respectful?" I queried.
"Yes," she replied with a smile. "It's just...
the way
you act around all of us. You're living every man's dream, I guess,
but you're so kind and nonchalant about it. You have what - eight
women now, alone on an island with you?"
"Yes, eight," I told her. "I'm glad you didn't
say nine, even though Louisa is here too. She's too old for me."
Devon giggled in reference to the 75-year-old housekeeper.
"Louisa is a wonderful cook, but she's too old for me, too."
"I try to treat everyone fair," I said to Devon. "I
just treat people the way I want to be treated myself. I've been
looked at and thought of as an object before, because of my money.
People haven't always treated me with respect. It's a sad, low
feeling, Devon. I know it all too well."
"Exactly," she said. "Maybe that's the reason why
you are the way you are."
"No, not exactly," I countered. "Even before I
came into my money, I was this way. I've been this way all my
life. I was raised to be respectful, and courteous, of others."
Devon smiled and said, "You and Pamela are so nice. As I
told you earlier, I'd really like the chance to get to know you
and her a lot better. Whether things would work or not, I don't
know. But I'm willing to take that chance."
"Be honest with me, Devon," I said to her. "What
would be the best case scenario for you?"
"To be like Lindsay," she replied immediately. "To
live here, year-round, with you and Pamela. To feel like I am
part of something, and that I matter. To feel loved and comforted
and cared about, as Lindsay does."
"You've only been here for a week, dear," I said, my
eyebrows raised. "It's kind of early to want to stay here."
"Not really," Devon countered. "Besides, you asked
for the best case scenario. That would be it." She paused
and added, "I live in Pennsylvania - in a nothing, nowhere
town. Everyone there thinks I am a slut, because of something
that happened a long, long time ago. This island, the way I look
at it, is a way for me to get out - permanently. But at the same
time... I don't want to stay here long-term unless I am loved
and cared about."
"I'll be perfectly honest, dear," were my words. "The
first time I saw you in person, at the airport, the first thought
that crossed my mind was what you would look like without that
little mini-dress you had on."
"Of course you thought that! You're a guy, and all guys think
that way. I have no problem with that. What I do have a problem
with is after I get to know a guy, those thoughts are still first
and foremost on his mind. I try my best to be social and nice,
but no matter what, I get looked at as nothing more than a sex
object. NOTHING MORE."
I could not say this to her - but that is how I thought of Devon,
too. Mostly (but not completely) as a sex object. She was too
beautiful to look at...
"Is it too much to ask that I be cared about, as a person?"
Devon said. "I am a good person, but I'm not sure many people
have noticed or even tried to notice that. They see blonde hair
and big breasts, and think I'm a bimbo."
"You're not a bimbo, Devon," I told her, in all honesty.
"That is one thought which never, EVER crossed my mind. You're
a dental assistant, right? That takes some brains and know-how.
You're obviously very bright, and you have sensitive feelings.
You're not a bimbo."
"You may be the first person who looked at me that way,"
Devon said to me, which sent chills down my spine. "I know
I make my life out to sound very bad, but it's the truth. I just
want to be someplace where I am loved and cared for."
"Why does everyone in your hometown think you're a slut?"
I asked her. "Is there a specific reason for that?"
Devon's lips twitched with anguish before she replied, "I
don't like talking about this, but back in..."
"Then don't talk about it," I said, cutting her off.
"If you don't like talking about it, I don't want to hear
it."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I'll tell you.
I...
I don't mind. You won't tell anyone else here... right?"
"Of course not, dear," I returned. "Anything you
say is between you and me - and no one else."
"Back in high school, I got caught having sex with my boyfriend...
in the school auditorium," she told me. "I... I was
suspended for three months, and the local newspaper got involved,
too. They ran some bad stories about me. It was so humiliating..."
I nodded at her and said, "And even though you're 24 years
of age now, people still remember that one incident?"
"Yes," she replied. "I know it was stupid of me
to do that. I deserved to be suspended. I graduated a year late
because of it, too. But still, I didn't need to be butchered by
the local newspaper. They had everyone talking about me. It was
a nothing, nowhere town - just as I said - so they needed something
to talk about. It was me."
"Why didn't you tell me this on your application?"
"I couldn't," Devon responded. "It's too humiliating.
I
don't even like thinking about it. I had men in their fifties
and sixties approach me on the street, and ask me if I'd be interested
in making 'a little extra money' - if you know what I mean. I
was the town slut."
"You're not a slut, Devon," I calmly told her. "You
are a little adventurous and wild with your sexual tastes, as
all of the women on this island are. That's why you took a chance
by having sex with your boyfriend in the auditorium. You're adventurous,
but you're not a slut."
"Is anyone here a slut in your eyes?" she asked.
"On the island?" I responded, to which she nodded her
head. "Amy is, without a doubt. But she will tell you that
herself. Lindsay is turning into one, though she's also a wonderful
sweetheart. I used to think Torrie was a slut, but not anymore.
Still, I care about all three very much... as I do the rest of
the ladies, including you."
"The people where I live are so negative toward me,"
she said. "I may be adventurous, but I was young and stupid
back then. I let my boyfriend talk me into it. Looking back, it
was something I should have never agreed to."
"If you don't like your hometown... why haven't you moved
away from it?"
"I can't," she replied. "I can't afford it. I still
live at home, with my family. I'm 24, and have never moved out.
I don't make enough money to live on my own."
I smiled at her. "The three million dollars you will get
for spending the winter here should take care of that."
"I rather just stay here, to tell you the truth," Devon
told me. "The island is so beautiful. It's unlike anything
I have ever seen before. If you and Pamela see fit, I rather stay
here. I don't need to see Pennsylvania ever again."
"What about your family?" I asked.
"What about them?" she responded. "All those years,
and
they have never forgiven me for what happened in high school.
They were humiliated too, you know. But still... you'd think that
after awhile, my own family would soften up on me a bit. Unfortunately,
that's not the case."
"Your family could have relocated, and avoided the public
humiliation all together," I told her. "It seems as
though that would be the logical thing to do."
"Logic doesn't apply with my family," she returned.
"I understand that they were mad at me, and really still
are. But families are supposed to stick together. I was young,
and stupid back then. I made a mistake. I shouldn't have to spend
the rest of my life as an outcast because of it."
"You're not an outcast here, sweetheart," I said to
her, with a smile. "Torrie feels very similar to the way
you do. Why don't people care about her? What does she do wrong?
There are plenty of boyfriend problems, too. Trish, an ex-boyfriend
of hers... he sold home movies of her and their mutual girlfriend
having sex together, to video stores."
"That's despicable!" Devon spat back, angrily.
"I know," I agreed. "Many of the others have had
bad
things happen to them, too. My ex-fiancee, Victoria... she left
me standing at the altar - for another woman. She ran off with
her, with all of my friends and family looking on in the wedding
chapel. THAT was humiliating."
"We all have dark memories," Devon said. "No one
is immune to it. I just wish I could find someone who cares about
me - as a person. Maybe my biggest problem is that I never moved
away from that old, boring town. Everyone knew me there, and thought
of me as a slut. Maybe that is why I could never find anyone to
really care about me."
"You couldn't afford to move away, though," I told her.
"Right," she said. "But still, I want you to remember
one thing, Jeremy. I WOULD never do ANYTHING to come between you
and Pamela. NEVER. It's so obvious how much you and her are in
love together. Just seeing and being around that type of relationship
makes me happy."
"How about jealous?" I asked her. "You feel that
way?"
"Yes, but not in a bad way," she responded. "I'm
jealous
of Lindsay, too. I want to be like her. I want you and Pamela
to care about me the same way you care about Lindsay. It may be
early, but I hope it's not too much to ask."
If there was one thing that I was certain about with Devon - thanks
to her personality profile on my computer - it would be that she
was an honest, straightforward person. The computer program which
Christina had designed told me so. It was not Devon's nature to
lie or hide the truth.
Thus, my fears were quelled. Devon was not looking to drive a
wedge between Pamela and myself, for her own evil doings. She
was not a liar and besides, nothing Devon had said or did over
the past several moments made me doubt her sincerity in any single
way. Her words, her body language and natural reactions... everything
was sincere.
* * *
Just as I leaned back and took in the wondrous sight of the enchanting
Devon, who was wearing just an oversized night-shirt, there was
a loud, nasty THUMP at the door.
Seated in the bed, with Devon in front of me, I turned around
with a very startled look in my eyes. What in the world was that
noise? It sounded like someone had thrown a ton of bricks into
the door.
A second later, the door bursted open, and I saw Pamela. My wife
looked like she never had before. Pamela looked mad. She looked
ANGRY. She looked like she could rip someone's heart out, and
not even think twice about it.
"Pamela?" I said, my voice timid as I glared at her.
"What... is there something wrong?"
My wife, with venom in her eyes, pointed to Devon and hissed,
"Get her out of here. NOW."
"What?" Devon said, confused, as I got up and slowly
moved toward Pamela.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" I asked, being calm. Pamela
was BOILING with anger...
"Get her out of here," she demanded again. "Get
that bitch off the island. Send her home. NOW."
"Why?" I asked, drawing the word out. "What...
what is wrong, sweetheart? Why are you upset?"
"Why are you mad at me?" Devon squealed at Pamela, looking
hurt and upset herself. "What did I do wrong?"
With those words, my wife lost it.
My eyes were wide and bulging when Pamela shoved past me, and
jumped directly onto Devon. She landed upon her knees, astride
Devon's chest, and immediately grabbed her hair. A split-second
later, Pamela was screaming out in a mad rage as she pulled and
yanked Devon's long-flowing hair, while bouncing her head upon
the mattress in the process.
I was so shocked and surprised that it took me a second or two
to realize that Pamela - my sweet, wholesome wife, and the matriarch
of the island who loved these girls the same way I did - was fighting
Devon. She wanted to hurt her.
Devon was screaming - probably shocked herself - but was not returning
any of the offense. I quickly stepped forward and grabbed Pamela
by the shoulders, and pried her off of Devon. It took a lot of
strength and power to combat her mysterious rage, but I was able
to succeed.
"What is wrong with you?" I said to Pamela, completely
stunned. "Why are you acting like this?"
When a groggy and disoriented Devon sat up on the bed, Pamela
let out another scream and broke free of my hold. She straddled
Devon again, and began to wail away at her unguarded face with
a series of open-handed slaps and hits.
"WHAT IN THE HELL HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?" was my crazed
roar, as I soon pulled a kicking and screaming Pamela away from
the bed. This time, she was not going to break loose of my grip.
I would not let her.
Slowly but surely, Devon sat up, holding her mouth and jaw. When
she removed her hand, my heart almost sank in my chest. I noticed
a stream of blood trickling from her nose. The mere sight made
me flinch, and feel sick.
"What have you done, Pamela?" I said quietly, as my
wife struggled and fought to break free.
"GET HER OUT OF HERE!" Pamela screamed, looking at Devon.
"YOU THINK YOU CAN COME HERE AND RUIN OUR LIFE! GET OUT!
I DON'T WANT YOU HERE ANYMORE!"
I spun Pamela around so that she was facing me. Holding onto her
shoulders rather tightly, I looked her directly in the eyes and
said, "What's wrong? What happened?"
"That bitch is trying to destroy our marriage!" Pamela
said to me, still upset, but also trying to control and corral
her heated anger.
"Wh-What?" Devon said, crying.
"I've heard all I need to hear!" Pamela hissed, still
looking at me. "She is trying to destroy our marriage! She
wants you, Jeremy, and wants me out of the way!"
"No!" I shot back, shaking my head. "Devon is not
like that, Pamela. Where did you hear this? Who told you this?"
"Cassidy!" Pamela exclaimed, as Devon cried in shock.
"You have to get her off the island, Jeremy!" Pamela
added. "If you love me, you will send Devon home. She wants
to destroy us, Jeremy. She... she probably wants your money!"
"That's a lie!" Devon cried out, covering her eyes in
total shame. Some of her blood had dripped onto my bed...
<<<- End of Part 13 ->>>
Find every chapter of this story updated and archived at:
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} else {
print ("Give feedback and discus this story!");
}
function db_connect ()
{
global $username, $password, $database;
$link = @mysql_pconnect("localhost", $username, $password);
if ($link && mysql_select_db($database)) return($link);
return(FALSE);
}
?>
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