Chapter 1

Already, the fiercely burning sun had settled into the blue-black sea far off in the direction of the Florida Keys, sinking in a display of blazing oranges and royal blues that was so beautiful it seemed unreal.

This was the Danfield family's first night on their own newly-discovered private island, designated as Albacore Cay on their Florida and Bahamas coastal maps, and the two Danfield teenagers, Danny and Janice, were open-mouthed at the spectacular sight.

"Dad, it was incredible, really incredible!" exclaimed Danny, leaping excitedly now around the warm glow of the burning campfire he and his father had constructed less than an hour ago. "I never dreamed a sunset could be anything like that! What a trip!"

Emory Danfield laughed good-naturedly at his only son's boyish enthusiasm. But he was right; living in the city does tend to rob a person of memories of sunsets and seascapes, islands like this — green, lost and secluded, remnants of a better age without pollution or the concrete devastation of the cities. Emory felt somehow that he was cheating his son — life was so much simpler, so much more relaxed and ordered, when he was Danny's age back on the family's farm in Ohio. And now that he had "made it", scrambled high enough up the corporate ladder to insure some measure of safety and comfort for his wife and two teenagers, he had returned, at least for the moment, to some of the simpler pleasures he had found for nothing when he was a kid. Only now, it wasn't so cheap — this rented cabin cruiser was setting him back a hundred and fifty dollars a day!

From the corner of one eye, he caught a glimpse of his younger child, Janice, though she was sixteen now and not really "Daddy's little girl" anymore. It didn't take much of an appraisal to notice the change — just yesterday he and Gloria had talked before going to sleep about how fast she had grown up. An awkward tomboy one day, a princess the next. Christ, it was amazing how time did fly. It seemed hardly more than a few years ago that he and Gloria were nursing his '48 Chevy down to South Carolina, sneaking south for a Justice of the Peace wedding, down where eighteen year old girls were fair game instead of jail-bait. Eighteen! Two more years and little Janice will be as old as Gloria was when they got married!

Emory just shook his head, poking at the embers of the campfire with a sharpened stick. It couldn't have been that long ago, it just couldn't. He looked over at Gloria as she shook out the kids' sleep-bags on the sandy beach. Gloria was still a real looker — just as beautiful, maybe even more so, as that high school majorette he married on a hot sticky night in Dillon, South Carolina.

She had been a blonde then, straight out of a bottle, though it made her mother cry every time she had to look at her daughter's sultry bleached locks. "Work of the devil" she called it. But even Emory had to admit she was a much better looking brunette, thirty-seven now, but in a lot of ways, still the same girl he'd married that night, the same girl he had hustled off to the first roadside motor court ... the same gorgeous little Gloria Strickland, darling of the senior class, only now the mother of a boy and girl almost as old as she had been that night.

Yes, it was hard to believe ... close to twenty years now, two wars had come and — hopefully — mostly gone, a President lost by assassination. The dollar he had in his pocket that evening in the Justice of the Peace's storefront office was worth about twice those in his wallet tonight. And two babies born and raised — a husky football-player of a son, and a daughter flirting with real beauty. Man, how those years sneak past you ...

Emory helped his attractive bikini-clad wife with supper: hamburgers from the refrigerator on the cabin cruiser, and home-style fried potatoes cooked in a skillet over the hot campfire. There was a fully-equipped galley on a boat, of course, but the kids preferred roughing it ... and if the truth were known, so did Emory. It had been years since he could relax like this, away from all the worries of his investment business, alone with his family and with nature.

The kids were unrolling their sleeping bags when he waded and swam back out to the boarding ladder on the boat, anchored in a fathom-and-a-half of water so that the last few feet required a short kick to propel him through the warm Caribbean water to the side of the craft. He looked back one last time at the nearby shore, a wide sandy stretch, deserted as far as he could see in both directions, save for his family outlined in the glow of the dying fire. Opening the hatch, he went below and poured himself a soothing nightcap of bourbon over ice and readied for bed.

Emory looked at his wrist watch, a gift from the board of directors upon attaining one million dollars in volume for the rapidly-growing company; the dial read ten-thirty! Back in New York, he'd have been just settling down in his easy chair at home, exhausted after the long train ride from the city. And here ... well, down here ten-thirty seemed like the middle of the night.

He climbed topside and sat on the foredeck a long while, eyes skyward to catch a quick peek at a half-dozen shooting stars as they streaked overhead, racing toward the invisible Florida shore. His attention was momentarily distracted as Gloria came aboard after bedding the kids down in their chosen spot beside the fire on the beach. He waited, silently; then after awhile, the lights went out below, and the executive made his way down the narrow passageway, intoxicated from the unaccustomed fresh air, his path lighted by the combined illumination of a billion stars in the summer night.

Before turning out the lights, Gloria had slipped out of her little blue bikini in the narrow forward cabin, shivering in the sudden chill of night air on her bare skin. Fumbling for her nightie in the top drawer of the built-in cabinet at the foot of their bed, she could see herself reflected quite clearly in the full-length mirror opposite. And what she could see was pleasing — it was nice to still have your figure after two children.

Glancing around to be certain Emory or one of the kids hadn't come below, she looked more seriously at the nakedly voluptuous image of herself in the glass. Embarrassed at her own boldness, she placed a hand beneath the curve of one of her large, firmly up thrust breasts, feeling its heaviness in the palm of her hand. It was nicely full, hardly a trace of sag, though that terrible forty was only three years away. And the rest of her body was as well maintained as her breasts — her skin soft, translucent and properly taut, her thighs and calves well-trimmed from her twice weekly tennis workouts.

Yes, she thought, it was lucky she still had her looks, what with forty creeping up on her and grandchildren probably only a few more years away. Not that having good looks was doing much for her now. She might as well be fat and ugly for all ...

No, I musn’t think like that! she reminded herself. I have to remember to be understanding, it's my job to help Emory with all his problems and worries, not to make things worse. Things will get better, I know they will, just as soon as he can relax again and be himself.

She tried to put all seriousness from her mind, and climbed into the slightly vee-shaped bed built into the bow of the cabin cruiser. Within minutes, aided by the rhythmic rocking of the boat in the Caribbean's gentle swells, she was sound asleep.

Though it seemed like hours, only minutes had passed when Gloria became suddenly aware of someone crawling under the covers with her. A quick wink of one eye told her it was still very much the middle of the night and Emory, surprisingly, was coming to bed. Surprisingly, she thought, because ... well, because their nighttimes together had recently become something worse than painful. It wasn't something she talked about — Emory would have died if he knew she was even aware of it. But she was certainly aware of it, all right, and it was getting worse all the time.

She knew it would pass with time, that there was nothing physically wrong with him. It was just that he had a lot on his mind, what with his business and the stock market doing such crazy things and two kids nearing college age. Worries like that could make a man sort of, well, less than his usual self.

And "less" Emory Danfield had been lately; he'd even taken to coming to bed after she was asleep. Ostensibly, it was because he had difficulty getting sleepy these days, or so he said. But Gloria knew the real reason, the painful one that she realized must nag at him day and night. Emory was afraid, afraid that his sexual performance was fast dwindling away to nothing. Oh, he wasn't impotent or anything like that. At least ... not completely ... yet!

So far this worry of his had only gone so far as to affect his staying power. And for a man who could once boast of satisfying two girls in one night back in college, that sort of loss was bitter medicine indeed.

Gloria knew how it hurt him; she could literally feel the gnawing pains of inadequacy tearing at him sometimes when they'd finished making love. Finished somewhat ahead of schedule, that is! She wanted so desperately to tell him it was all right, that there was no reason for him to worry so. But she knew the first move had to be his ... it was better now that he not even know she had given it a second thought.

Lately, he just crept into bed, silently so as not to awaken her, then stayed quietly on his own side of the mattress, not cuddled against her as they had for so many years. But tonight it seemed different. Even in her half-asleep state, Gloria could feel that something was about to happen ...

"Honey ... are you awake?" he whispered. Gloria answered as the old Gloria, with an unmistakable wiggle of her behind against him in the dark. She was almost afraid to hope ... maybe he'd had an extra drink, and his nerves were soothed enough by their vacation to be his old self.

His hand slipped around her waist as he settled in behind her like they used to, and he pulled her buttocks against his belly. She could feel his well-maintained firmness, his hard abdomen with none of that usual creeping flabbiness most men start to find as they reach the hump of forty.

One hand slipped along the smoothness of her back and pulled her nightie up high above her waist. She was glad she had not worn panties to bed, and her warm nakedness snuggled warmly against his masculine firmness as he quickly slipped out of his undershorts.

Gloria felt a shiver of excitement and anticipation course over her as she sensed the prodding nudge of his hardening penis hotly pulsating in the soft furrow of her buttocks. She pushed her fleshy bottom-cheeks back tightly against his manhood, as if to trap it between the deliciously supple mounds of her ass.

She was hesitant to open her eyes, even for an instant, lest this all be a dream, and she'd find herself alone on her own half of the bed, caught up in some sleepy fantasy wrought from the growing agony of long months of lonely, agonizingly empty nights. But this was real ... her darling husband, that he-man hero she'd married, was his old virile self once more. She could only pray this was for real, that his passion wasn't borne from a bottle.

"I love you, darling," he whispered, and Gloria felt her eyes moisten just at the sound of the old Emory back again. Eagerly, she pulled her nightie the rest of the way off her love-starved body, shivering once again as her breasts were caressed by the evening chill. She quickly squirmed back under the blanket and snuggled tighter now against her man's naked firmness as she felt the whole length of his fully erect cock, thick and achingly hard, rigidly poking upward between her legs. Once in place, she clamped her thighs tightly around the long, heatedly throbbing penis. Between her legs, the hotly swollen head of his cock probed hungrily as if it had a mind of its own to go with the tiny eye-like slit in the end. His massive hardness began rubbing against the sensitive folds of her wetly excited pussy, brushing electrically over the nerve-filled bud of her pulsing, growing clitoris, that pinkish little nodule at the top of the soft warm flanges of her vagina. With no effort on her part, she could feel the warmly moist lips of her pussy spread apart in unashamed invitation, opening eagerly to receive his rock-hard penis, hungrily nibbling with ravenous desire at the long gleaming shaft as it nestled snugly between the supple curves of her ivory thighs.

Emory eased himself down on the foam-rubber mattress, lowering his body behind hers as they both lay nakedly nestled together on their right sides, easing down over the firm ripe globes of her buttocks, bulging like twin snow-white melons in stark contrast to her brown tan, still pert and taut as a teenager's below the smooth unblemished curve of her beautiful back. His painfully aching penis was now perfectly positioned; the throbbing head, distended and blood-colored with lust, was rubbing lasciviously along the hair-lined furrow of her vaginal slit from the backside, spreading the soft warm flanges of her cunt as he rocked it back and forth along the narrow crevice and felt her eagerly puckering pussy-lips trying to suck his masculine hardness deep into her tortured belly.

With slow, gentle movements of his hips, he rubbed his cock's distended knob over her clitoris, watching as she jerked spasmodically at the electrical touch, an erotic quiver racing along up her spine. For minutes, he squirmed the lust-swollen head of his penis along the moistly warm slit of her pussy, fanning the growing flames of desire and passion that burned inside her. The bulbous head of his cock spread apart the wetly ragged lips of her Vagina as he eased the throbbing knob a little further between them, moistening the mammoth head of his organ in her now-abundant juices.

"Now, honey?" he whispered needlessly.

Gloria's reply was weak and hoarse, "Yes, oh yes, darling."

Emory cocked his naked hips like the bolt of a rifle and snapped them forward with a deep, thrusting lunge that sank the entire hotly throbbing length of his cock into the desire-moistened tunnel of her love-starved cunt. Gloria's mouth opened wide and a loud soulful moan escaped from somewhere deep in her throat.

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh ... yes, honey, yes!" She shuddered ecstatically from the tips of her toes as his bone-hard cock began fucking rapidly in and out of her hungrily clasping velvet sheath, pulling the delicate pink vagina lips back on each withdrawal stroke. She could feel his long hard penis slip wetly from her grip, escape her ravenous pussy-lips as they hungrily gulped to keep every delicious inch of him deep inside her hot little crevice ... could feel his lust-thickened manhood bore deeply into her belly again, poking and prodding her innermost treasures with pounding thrusts that seemed deeper and deeper with every pistoning lunge.

Her eyes were still tightly closed, and before them raced a whirling, dizzying kaleidoscope of blues and reds and purples as his frantic strokes pumped in and out of her moistly clasping cunt. Each long deep thrust seemed to push all the way up into her belly, and she could feel the electrifying waves of ecstasy that were welling up from her loins in ever-growing waves, sweeping fantastically over her whole body. Her nipples were hard and aching with overwhelming passion, and they throbbed steadily as his delicious ravishment continued, his stiffened cock now fully lubricated with the gushing flow of her love-juices as it slithered easily with a lewd sucking sound in and out of her hotly pulsating vagina, yanking out the delicate ridges of pink flesh, then ramming them back inside the warm wet furrow with a vicious punishing thrust.

A warm sticky stream of viscous liquid pushed its way along the hard shaft of his penis as it slammed again and again into her sex-famished orifice.

The colors grew more and more intense, brighter and faster than she could remember, and she could feel the warm, glowing flame in her belly growing hotter and hotter with his every deep, skewering stroke into her moistly clasping vagina from behind.

She tried desperately to stifle the ecstatic moans that were fighting to escape her parched lips, but it was futile to try. The kids would just have to hear, the raging inferno of her pent-up desires was more than she could bear!

"Oh my God! It's so good, so good! Don't stop, lover, don't ever stop! Fuck me hard, hard!" she screamed, shivering involuntarily as his wonderfully painful thrusts grew even faster, pounding wildly again and again into her very womb. "Oh, yes! Yes!"

But Emory's steadfastly contained climax was too near ... his eyes feasted on the splendid spectacle of his nakedly voluptuous wife writhing helplessly from his masculine performance, her tantalizing buttocks-cheeks clenched tightly as she excitedly ground back onto the impaling shaft of his thick cock, her firm ivory thighs spread wide apart to accommodate his sex, her legs opening and closing rhythmically in time with the guttural, animal cries that choked from her lips ...

"Oh fuck, here it comes! Here it comes!" he shouted, burrowing his long cock to the hairy hilt in her warm wet tunnel, slamming his sweat-soaked pelvis tightly against her ass as he pulled her hard back against him, his hands gripping her hips as he rammed her onto the long skewering length of his cock like so much raw meat. And suddenly ... it was over. His balk exploded in a rapid-firm machine gun burst of seething hot liquid that filled her belly and oozed back along the narrow, hairless crevice of her buttocks and onto the mattress beneath her. It seemed to Emory that an endless river of life-giving sperm flowed unceasingly from his shuddering, teeth-jarring orgasm, pumping far up into his wife's insides in a torrent of sticky hot liquid.

Gloria's whole body suddenly snapped as if jerked by some unseen force as the horrifying awareness of what had happened suddenly registered on her tormented brain. No, no ... it couldn't be happening!

"Oh, Emory, darling, please, don't stop! Please, a little more!" she pleaded, tears flooding her eyes as she kept her face away from his. "I'm almost there ... almost cumming ... " Her voice trailed softly away; she could feel his emptied cock inside her, softening until, finally, it slipped with an obscene sucking sound from her still-hungry passage. "Please, Emory ... just a few minutes more ... "

But Emory was already out of bed and into the tiny cubicle W.C., leaving her alone again on the covers, alone as before, her sensually naked torso trembling with the torment of her unsatiated desires, her long legs scissoring open and closed in a steady anguished rhythm as she fought futilely to fight off the gnawing pains of unfulfilled passion.

She tried to pretend it wasn't this way at all, that everything was as it used to be, back when their sex life had been magnificent. Back when she had to beg her sex-hungry husband-lover to leave her alone so she could get some sleep. But it was no use ... she knew it would never be like that again. Something was wrong, terribly wrong with their marriage. Maybe it was just the pressures of his work, like she tried to tell herself time and time again. Or maybe it was something else ... maybe it was even her!

But whatever the problem, she knew there could only be one answer — only the delicious thickness of a man's enduring cock could end her anguish, quell these perpetual flames of unrequited desire that blazed in her tortured belly.

And if Emory couldn't help her ...

Oh God, how she hated to even think of that solution!