Chapter 3
Well, here I am again, good Old Roger, a drink in my hand, a smile on my lips. What happened as far as Mandy was concerned? Well, you wouldn't believe it. Or then again, perhaps you would. The old aunt interfered. Oh, you know the hassle. Got a crazy idea in her head and wouldn't let go of it.
She saw Mandy talking to me on the deck and that was that. She marched right over, grabbed the poor kid by the hand, and dragged her away from me, without saying a word. Of course, I haven't given up. Don't give up the ship. That's another good motto.
Talking about the ship perhaps you've noticed that old Roger's back on terra firma. That's right. In a sense, we did give up the ship. Or it gave us up, whichever you prefer. That's why you see me at this gin mill on the island here, a drink in my hand, a smile on my lips, as I think I mentioned.
What about the rest of the voyage? What about it? I mean to say that for myself it got to be a bit of a bore. Oh, I saw some interesting possibilities, but nothing came of it. Bide your time. All things come to those who wait. And your friend Roger is among those who wait, especially if it's for a good thing.
Well, what about Felicia? I can tell you this much-I didn't get to see much of my wife the latter part of the voyage. No way. No sir! Felicia was too occupied with her young friend. It got to the point that I began to forget what our stateroom looked like. That's how often she and the boy managed to put it together.
But all good things must come to an end. And that's what happened to the voyage, as far as Felicia is concerned. The ship docked here at this island, and wasting no time, after unloading its supplies and refueling, took off again. And off sailed Felicia's young boyfriend.
She hated to see the young buck go, but as I told her, there's always another boy just around the corner. And that's what she and I have been looking for since our arrival here on the island. It's a beautiful place, by the way. Tall trees, palm leaves waving in the wind, the ocean breeze, the whole thing, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, we've been here two days now. Barry Barnsworth and I have been busily occupied preparing ourselves for the journey deep into the depths of the island. Oh, you know the sort of thing-trying to get hold of all the necessary supplies and material, and trying to line up the right sort of help for the journey.
Well, you might be thinking that cash might be a little bit of a problem. Not so. Not so at all. Fortunately, Barry and I are working on a grant from the government, so that all expenses happen to be paid by the bureaucrats back home. And that includes our snazzy ocean voyage. Not bad, huh?
Well, I wouldn't be a sociological researcher in the first place, if I wasn't going to get something out of it, besides mounds of statistical data. So, here we are on the island, Barry and I spending money not stinting on anything, so that we can travel, in one sense of the word, in style.
Do things, if you're going to do them at all, Felicia says, in style. She loves style, that girl. And she's got her own, I can tell you. You're probably wondering where my wife is now. Why she isn't next to me, sipping down her own drink, like I'm guzzling down mine.
Well, and this probably won't surprise you, Felicia's off on another sex hunt, making like a scavenger through the streets of this little island port town. And she'll come up with something, I can assure you. I've never known Felicia to recognize obstacles in the course of her search for sexual enjoyment and gratification.
So I'm sitting here in this little gin mill, sipping down a nice drink and regaling you with the little details of our story. Up above me those old fashioned fans are making their gliding circles, and every once in a while an ocean breeze sifts in, so, all in all, the heat here is not too bad.
And I'm enjoying myself. But then, that's what life's for, isn't it? Anyway, to get on with the story: I really regret now that I didn't have the chance to introduce you to the Barnsworths while we were still on the liner. Because now one of them is missing.
Yes, that's right. Missing. This is where our story gets to be a little strange, to put it mildly. Why? Well, as I told you, we took leave of the ship and landed on this island. The four of us. We wasted no time in learning the address of the best hotel on the island (government expenses, after all), and registering ourselves there in very short order.
Then we each retired to our rooms. After taking a short rest and enjoying a brisk shower, the four of us met downstairs in the dining-room of the hotel and enjoyed a leisurely dinner. Champagne and all. Well, why not? Government expenses, as I said.
And please don't think that I'm cheating the government or you taxpayers back home out of your money. No sir! Not Roger Littlecomb. No way. No, you see, this sort of expedition is no little thing. A lot of work and effort goes into it. And, in the long run, the government and you taxpayers back home will be the ones to reap the benefits of our journey.
After all, we risk our lives at times, in seeking out the interesting and valuable data that may be of more than inconsequential aid to you citizens back home. Change your entire life style, perhaps. After all, who's to say? Do you see what I mean?
Anyway, I'm losing the thread of my story. If you're not already sufficiently well aware of the invaluable work of sociological researchers, youll have to talk to someone else. I've got other things on my mind. Lola Barnsworth, for example. Where the hell did she disappear to?
Frankly, I think it was kind of inconsiderate of Lola. Though, of course, perhaps it isn't her fault. But, in any case, we can't make one step further on our journey until she shows up. And I, for one, am beginning to wonder if she ever will.
Well, what happened to her? That's what I'd like to know. Nosy Lola. She always has to go snooping. Not content to sit in the bar and get drunk like the rest of us. No, Lola has to go and take a walk in the gardens. Well, perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on her. After all, snooping, in a way, is my profession.
But dignified snooping, dignified. Let's keep that in mind. Anyway, Lola got up from our table at the bar, where we all comfortably were ensconced after our sumptuous dinner, and announced that she was going to take a walk in the gardens outside the hotel. So, none of us think anything about that. We nod our heads and continue the work, if you want to call it that, of our drinking.
And that was the last any of us saw of poor Lola. Poor Lola, with her beautiful face and figure. Poor Lola, with her snooping curiosity. Poor Lola, who didn't know enough to stay put where she was. Poor Lola, who may have been devoured by the sharks. That last bit was a joke. Lola isn't much of a swimmer and hardly ever goes near the water.
I joke, because it's necessary to lighten up the atmosphere once in a while. And, at the given moment, the atmosphere is kind of serious. Because, as I told you already, we can't take one step on our journey, until Lola shows up. And none of us have the faintest idea where she might have disappeared to.
Oh, I know what you're thinking. That she just up and took off with someone. Well, forgive me, you're mistaken. Lola doesn't work that way. I know, because Barry told me, and if anyone should know that girl, he should, being her husband. Anyway, where's Lola? That's what we're all asking ourselves.
Poor Barry. He's gone practically crazy, searching all over the place for his wife. Fortunately, Felicia and I are endowed with calm nerves, so that we can function more or less as always. Which accounts for the fact that I'm sitting here in this gin-mill and Felicia's off after another boy.
Well, why aren't Felicia and I out hunting for Lola too? For one thing, too many chefs spoil the pot. You've heard that before. And it's true. So, I'm trying to keep ahold of myself here, holding the fort, so to speak, sipping my drink and keeping everything steady.
Meanwhile, Lola could be lost in the depths of the jungle. That's not true, really. The jungle is still quite a ways from here. But I am worried about the poor woman, after all. And another thing to consider is that we're on a schedule, as far as our sociological expedition is concerned.
But, if you'll excuse me for a minute, I just saw this young girl pass by. As a matter-of-fact, she looks too young. But I think I'll go have a look, anyway. As I mentioned to you on the ship, they mature very fast here on the island. So, if you don't mind picking up the tab, I'll join you in a while.
Roger Littlecomb wasted no time in marching his way out of the bar with its circling fans and making his way outdoors. Looking up and down the dusty street, Roger searched for the girl he had seen. She must have been a fast walker, for she was already weaving her way toward the beach quite a bit ahead.
Thankfully, as has been mentioned, Roger was in good trim. It took him no time at all to reach the side of the young girl walking along the sands of the beach. Roger introduced himself in short order and began a cheerful conversation with the young girl at his side.
She was a beautiful little girl. She had long dark hair, which swept down to her bronzed shoulders. Being very young, her breasts were just beginning to show the effects of maturity, starting to swell out. In the style of the islands, her hips swayed back and forth as she walked. Being so young, she had a very slender waist.
Roger was dressed in his usual island uniform, his swimming trunks. His muscular body shone in the rays of the sun, while he walked next to the young girl. Although they had just met, Roger and the young girl were soon engaged in an animated conversation. Roger, gleaming with broad smiles, hungrily eyed the beautifully curved body of the young girl.
Soon they came to a little cove. It was a place of peace and serenity. There was no one else about. Except for the birds that twittered every once in a while high up in the branches of the palm trees. And Roger was too busy thinking of other things to take much notice of the birds.
Except for the one by his side. Roger wasted no time in suggesting to the girl that they stop for a minute here at the cove and rest a bit. The girl proved to be of an amicable nature and readily agreed. Sitting down at a distance from the beach in a little clearing beneath the palm trees, Roger and the girl continued their conversation.
While the young girl was happily chattering away to Roger, he put a hand out and let it caress the fall of her long dark hair. The girl did not seem in the least perturbed by Roger's motions, which only encouraged him to go a little farther. Taking a chance, Roger leaned over and kissed the girl on the cheek in the midst of her conversation.
But again, the girl did not seem in the least disturbed by this caress. She was wearing a light cotton shift that came down to her knees. It was a very light material, so that Roger could make out the budding form of her young breasts beneath the dress.
Leaning over suddenly, Roger put his lips to the young girl's mouth. Hungrily, he sucked her tongue into his mouth. The young girl seemed somewhat surprised at this gesture, but did nothing to counteract it. The next thing Roger was on top of the girl darting his tongue in and out of her mouth, while his cock began to swell in his swimsuit.
Pressing the bulging form of his cock against the soft give of her body, Roger moved his lips to the girl's ears. Pushing away a few strands of hair, Roger began to breathe in the girl's ear, and then started to lick the inside of her ear with a rapidly-moving tongue.
The girl started to twist beneath him, as the caresses in her ear started to affect the rest of her body. She started to hum almost, twisting her lithe, young body back and forth against the pressuring strain of Roger's muscular frame, pressing itself down upon her.
Lifting his mouth from her ear, Roger looked at the girl with eyes half-crazy with desire. His aching desire to spill his seed in her young, virgin cunt showed itself in the burning gleam in his eyes. Meanwhile, his cock swelled to enormous proportions.
"You are beautiful!" he exclaimed.
"You are very nice, too," the young girl whispered in return.
"Do you want me to love you?" Roger saw the young girl shyly nodded her head in silent response.
Roger lifted himself up from her young body and kneeled by her side. Smiling down at her, he began to remove the shift off the girl's body, bringing it up over her head. The young girl brought both of her arms up to assist in the removal of the shift.
In the process her young budding breasts wiggled against each other with a slight tremor. Roger quickly moved his eyes down to the vision of her young, untouched cunt. His eyes ran up and down the young girl's body, while the passion inside him yearned to express itself.
Still kneeling by the head of the girl, Roger reached back and removed his swimsuit. His swollen penis fell out and dangled its fleshy length before the young girl's eyes. His balls rose in their sac as he fingered his penis with a soothing action.
Leaning over, Roger began to move his stiff prick up and down the girl's face, letting his swollen prick-head press its firm pressure against the soft flesh of the girl's face. The girl put out a curious hand and started to finger the man's hairy sac, squeezing the balls in her fingers.
"You've got a beautiful body," whispered Roger, gliding his prick through the girl's dark thick hair.
The girl smiled up at him, but made no response, while she continued to cuddle his aching balls. Rising now, Roger positioned his feet on either side of the young girl's body. His swollen prick wobbled with its show of strength and power in the air above her.
The girl looked up at him, while Roger slowly began to lower himself again down onto the ground. Roger put his hands out beyond the girl's head and positioned himself on the ground, his knees about level with her shoulders. He was all set now to jam it in her.
Slowly moving forward, Roger brought his swollen prick-head up to the young girl's waiting mouth. In her innocence, she kept her lips closed. But Roger's pushing prick-head against the soft resistance of her lips had its way. Soon the girl opened her mouth just a little bit.
Roger inserted his swollen prick-head into the orifice. He groaned once with pleasure as his feverish prick felt the warm wet flesh of her tongue. Leaning over her, Roger began to draw his prick in and out of her mouth. With each new slow thrust he surged slightly forward.
The girl wasn't a slow beginner. Soon her tongue was licking the hot tip of Roger's prick, pushing its way down her throat. As Roger edged his cock forward, the young girl brought her hands up and cradled them against the cheeks of his ass. Soon Roger was pushing so far in her that his wiry pubic hair was nuzzled against the edges of her mouth.
"Ah! This is great!" Roger exclaimed, pushing himself forward now with a growing vigor.
The girl started to move her hands up and down his ass, while his surging, tumid prick sunk deeper inside her. Soon her fingers were tracing the hairy crevice of his ass, running up and down in excitement. These caresses from behind only made Roger surge forward with greater urgency.
Soon Roger started to come, heaving himself forward into her mouth. The thick spurts of semen spurted out with a vengeance, as his ass rocketed back and forth, propelling his swollen prick deeper. The swollen prick-head in the young girl's mouth shot out its supply of semen with power.
The young girl rocked her body back and forth beneath him, while the sticky substance filled the cavern of her mouth. In a shudder, Roger groaned, squeezing with a jamming motion of his body the last of his semen into her mouth. Then, panting with exhaustion, he slowly lowered himself downward and turned on his side.
The girl turned now too, holding his penis in the wet grip of her lips. She brought her hands around his ass again and traced her fingers up and down the cheeks of his ass. While Roger closed his eyes and moaned in the release of climax.
A while passed in this way with the young girl's head nestled close to his cock.
Meanwhile, back in the dusty streets of the tiny port town of the island, Barry Barnsworth was coming up against the sluggish opposition of the island bureaucracy. Frantic now about the welfare of his wife, Barry was leaving no stoned unturned in his search to find her.
"But she's got to be here somewhere!" Barry exploded to the calm-looking official in front of him.
"Mr. Barnsworth," the bureaucrat replied with a voice of calm resignation, "you have already consulted the police about this affair. I admit that it is most unfortunate. However, losing your patience and yelling at me will not produce any favorable results."
"Well," admitted Barry, shaking his head in perplexity, "perhaps I've spoken too harshly. Forgive me, if I've offended you. You realize, of course, the seriousness of this matter. My wife is not at all accustomed to island ways. She's been gone now for over twenty-four hours. I am most concerned."
"And I can sympathize with you, Mr. Barnsworth," the official replied. "But what can I say? You have already notified the police. They will be looking for her. You have notified our Missing Persons Bureau. You have made consultations with your government representative at the consulate. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to let me see the Minister of the Interior!" Barry demanded.
"That would be very difficult to arrange, I'm sorry," said the official, shaking his head.
"Difficult or not, I expect it to be done," demanded Barry. "The consul assured me that the representative of the island government would give me any sort of aid required, in order that my wife might be found. I wish to see the Minister."
"Mr. Barnsworth!" the official said, slightly rising from his high-backed chair. "Please get control of yourself. Becoming incoherent with distress will be of no aid to anyone."
"I want to know," continued Barry, the veins on his temples standing out. "Am I going to see the Minister of the Interior or not? I have a right to know. The life of my wife is at stake, perhaps."
"I will see what I can do," the official replied in his calm voice, picking up the phone at his desk. "Please sit down while you're waiting, Mr. Barnsworth. And try to relax. Our telephone lines on the island are in less than a felicitous condition. It may, therefore, take some time to get my call through."
Barry sat down on the chair opposite the official and worriedly wiped the perspiration from his brow. He had been encountering this same kind of bureaucratic inertia all morning. It was late afternoon now, and nothing of any value had been accomplished. The official, meanwhile, was busy trying to get his call through.
Back in the little cove on the beach, nestled together beneath the waving branches of the palm trees, Roger and the young girl remained in the same position. His cock pressed against her face, his penis still in her mouth. Opening his eyes, Roger began to feel the familiar movements in his prick.
His organ slowly began to fill with blood and twitch in the wet hold of the young girl's mouth. Being a quick learner, the young girl brought her tongue against the swelling prick head and lavished it with tender care, licking it with soft motions.
His balls moved around in their hairy sac against the young girl's chin. Rising to his knees, Roger slowly withdrew his swelling prick from the girl's wet mouth. Switching his position on his knees, Roger again leaned over the recumbent form of the girl, but this time so that his head was hovering over her cunt, while his swelling penis dangled above her open mouth.
Slowly lowering himself, Roger again let his prick enter the soft, wet cavern of the girl's mouth, while he lowered his own mouth toward her waiting cunt. Bringing his lips up against those of her young pussy, he started to circle his tongue up and down the outer lips of her cunt.
While his prick began to sink again into the depths of her willing throat, Roger lowered his mouth and stuck out his tongue. Working very slowly and gently, Roger began to insert his tongue into her cunt, letting the tip of his tongue warm its way into the sweet-tasting region of her pussy.
Soon Roger was bringing his head up and down while he stroked the girl's wiggling cunt with his surging tongue, while his prick, swollen to a length of bulging power, continued the same motions in the girl's mouth.
In no time at all the girl's juices began to flow. At the caresses of the older man, her cunt lips grew moist and wet, opening wider to the pressure of his greedy tongue. As soon as he thought she was ready, Roger lifted himself up again and turned around.
The warm, wet lips of the girl's cunt awaited him. Slowly bringing himself down, Roger let his penis make its slow entry into her wet pussy, Encountering no opposition whatsoever, it soon occurred to Roger that perhaps the girl wasn't quite a virgin, after all.
But little details like that never bothered Roger before, and didn't now. She was certainly young enough to still be a virgin, but then again, things on the island here were different from elsewhere. Be that as it may, Roger's swollen prick surged up the soft, sweet flesh of her cunt.
Drawing his ass back, Roger looked down at her with gleaming eyes. Slowly propelling himself forward, he brought his swollen prick deeper inside her. The girl began to twist back and forth on the ground, throwing her head first one way and then another.
Roger started to jam it in now, as the semen began to speed up the swollen length of his feverish prick. Heaving and panting, he fucked her with a growing vigor, while the girl began to moan in pleasure beneath him, throwing her arms out and clenching her fists.
"Ah! I love your beautiful body!" Roger whispered, his eyes burning with passion.
"It is so good!" the young girl whispered in a shy voice, as the swollen meat of the man burned inside her pussy.
Roger would have liked to have drawn the pleasure out, but it was too much to ask.
He had to let himself go and heave it into her. His balls swung back and forth as he jammed his prick up her cunt.
"Ah! You're so beautiful!" he cried, fucking her for all he was worth.
The girl was already too lost in the thrall of climax, moaning and groaning with animal sounds of pleasure, as her juices poured inside her. Roger began to come now too, heaving himself forward, so that his semen spilled out in burning, rat-a-tat spurts, shooting its supply inside her.
The bodies of Roger and the young girl rocked back and forth for a considerably long time on the ground beneath the palm trees.