Incest The Island


Author's note: This story contains incest. It also contains lots of other action, and I should warn you now -- it's not a short one-page jerkoff story. Threads is a series of stories with a number of characters that cross over between the tales. They're all interlinked in one way or another, so look out for more in the future. I've got three more novel-length tales written and a fouth nearly completed. Anyway. Read on, hope you enjoy it. Ratings and comments always welcome.



Edwin looked at the pile of paperwork on his desk and rubbed at his eyes. It had been a really long day, and only midway through what was bound to be a long week. It had begun with his friend Danny's death two days ago, and since then the Island had been a hive of activity getting things prepared.

In a couple of days time Danny's children would arrive on the Island, having just found out that they were triplets given up for adoption, and they'd be meeting here for the very first time. On top of that he had a burial to organise for Danny on the Island. Add in organising supplies and planning for every contingency, and it was no wonder he felt exhausted. It was two in the morning and high time he had some stress relief.

He got up from his desk, winced at the pain in his back and moved to the door of his office, part of his home on the Island upstairs from the clinic, and headed for the exit, moving quietly down the stairs as was his habit. Once outside he smiled. He'd always loved the cool breeze that caressed the Island through the night.

He turned left and took the path down to the beach, taking a right between two large bushes on the narrow path the kitchen staff used to bring supplies into the kitchens. A couple of turns and he was moving around the edge of the building where the Islands food was prepared and stored, unstaffed at this time of night. He knew if anyone spotted him they'd just assume he was going for his habitual late night snack, but he knew different.

He bypassed the main doors to the kitchen and entered the small courtyard that served the dual purpose of somewhere to store the trash and somewhere the chefs and porters could sneak out to for a smoke. Casually he glanced around and seeing no-one he slipped over to the backdoor of the pastry kitchen and entered a code in the keypad, a different code from the one normally used to open the door.

A quiet bump sounded next to one of the bins and he moved to the corner, reached down and pulled the handle that was now protruding from the flagstoned yard. A small hatch appeared with a ladder heading down, barely visible in the moonlight.

He quickly slid himself into the narrow passage and closed the hidden hatch above him, seeing the dim lights illuminating the twenty three rungs below him. Reaching the bottom he turned around and punched another code into the wall and the small box beside it opened. He pressed his hand to the small screen inside the box and the door beside him swung open.

Edwin smiled in anticipation. He had a lot of catching up to do.

He entered the saferoom, or as he thought of it, the 'Bunker' where he could retreat to if the Island was ever attacked. He ignored the open plan living area and kitchen and moved straight to the door on his left, a control room where he could make contact with the outside world if need be, but his focus wasn't on the emergency facilities. He moved straight to the console housing the covert CCTV system that Danny Tripps had painstakingly built in secret over the last fifteen years.

His friends words came back to him, as they always did when he looked at the setup. "There's no point in being trapped in here. Much better to see what's going on outside. Then you retain an advantage the other side doesn't even know about. Information is power."

Edwin smiled and moved to the large leather desk chair facing the bank of fifteen screens. Three large screens, a dozen smaller, all assigned letters from A to O. The one hundred and thirty eight cameras hidden around the island were numbered, making the system incredibly simple to operate. Simply type in the letter for the screen then the camera number, hit enter and that's what you saw.

The whole system was set up on a motion-activation principle, immediately discarding data that had nothing happening and that suited Edwins purposes perfectly.

He settled his fingers on the keyboard, typed A68 and hit Enter. The first of the three large screens flickered into view, a camera situated in the bedroom of Danny's favourite PA, Patricia,. She was one of Edwin's favourites too, a hot, toned blonde with a bundle of intelligence and determination. It wasn't her intellect that interested him at present though as he watched the live feed from her vacant bedroom, his memory providing him with hundreds of images of her sleeping in that very bed.

He felt the familiar stirring in his groin and smiled. Time to move the recording back.

His fingers found the small dial next to the keyboard, punched in the camera number and then rotated it back. The simple system allowed him to review all recorded footage from that particular camera and he was viewing it in reverse. A couple of chambermaids darted around briefly at high speed, and then the footage caught up to Patricia undressing then sleeping. The footage continued in reverse at high speed, skipping past hours of her lying still. She'd been asleep for five hours or so when he saw her leap out of bed, naked, and grab a towel, then disappear backwards into the bathroom.

He reset the dial, his left hand coming to rest on his belt, and as the footage began to play on the screen he unfastened his belt and trousers.

Patricia appeared from the bathroom, her skin flushed from the shower, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, and as Edwin pulled down his fly and slid his hand in his trousers, she opened her towel.

Seeing her side on as she lifted the towel, her body taught and firm, her breasts pert and round, Edwin slipped his hand around his cock, slowly stroking himself as he watched her dry herself. She moved too quickly for him though, drying herself rapidly then slipping under the sheet on her bed, settling down to go to sleep.

Edwin frowned and punched in B69, bringing up the footage from the en-suite bathroom in Patricia's room. He punched 69 in next to the dial and rolled it back, seeing her in a high-speed blur in the shower, moving it back to play as soon as the maid appeared who'd cleaned the bathroom earlier.

While he stroked himself in anticipation the maid finished her work, the lighting changed and Patricia appeared. Dressed only in a black thong, she walked up to the sink, her gorgeous breasts on display and as she brushed her teeth, Edwin zoomed the camera in on her breasts, stroking himself as he watched them jiggle back and forth with every motion of her arm.

"Come on, you hot bitch," he muttered. "Get in the fucking shower."

The teeth brushing continued for another minute and then she disappeared off screen, so Edwin zoomed the view back out, seeing her step into the shower cubicle. The water began immediately and he slowed the footage down as she stepped out the cubicle to remove her thong. In slow motion she inserted her thumbs in her waistband and bent over, sliding the black material down her hips, thighs and finally to the floor, and with a casual flick of her foot, the thong ended up back in the bedroom.

Edwins grip tightened on his cock. She always did this before she went in the shower. Always. He zoomed in a little closer.

Patricia stood up straight and stretched, her arms rising high above her head, her breasts jutting out. Edwin groaned, licking his lips in anticipation of what came next. Her right hand slid down over her taught, flat stomach, sliding down over her shaved skin until her middle finger made contact with her clitoris.

"Go on, you fucking slut," he muttered, his fist pumping as he watched.


Patricia's middle finger rubbed her clit up and down a couple of times, then in slow-motion, she moved it down her slit, rubbed up and down once, then plunged her middle finger deep inside her pussy.

"Fuck that dirty unwashed cunt, you whore," Edwin growled. His fist was pumping furiously on his cock now, loving what he saw on the screen.

Patricia dipped her finger in and out three times, and as Edwin zoomed the view back out, he smiled wickedly as she raised the finger to her lips and sucked it into her mouth, her head tilted back.

"That's a good slut," He grunted.

She stepped forward into the shower, and Edwin stroked his cock, watching the hot water sluicing down the curves of her body. "Come on, you dirty bitch. Do it." His fist was pumping rapidly up and down on his cock, his eyes fixated on the screen.

Patricia turned in the shower and squatted down, her back against the wall. Edwin smiled and zoomed the camera in, framing her as her legs came up and her buttocks rested on the shower floor. He could see her pussy, her asshole, tits and face and he felt his heart lift in excitement.

"Go on. Get busy."

She tilted one hip and her left hand appeared under her ass, her index finger rubbing at her brown puckered hole.

"Do it, slut," Edwin muttered.

Her right hand appeared between her legs, her fingertips brushing against her clit. Her mouth was open in anticipation, Edwin mirroring her expression on screen. Suddenly she slid two fingers into her pussy, plunging them in deep and her body stiffened in pleasure.

Edwin smiled. "And now the ass, you filthy little whore."

Patricia's finger that had been rubbing gently at her ass suddenly pushed, forcing her up to the first knuckle in that tightest of places. He watched as her expression turned nasty and she pushed harder, sinking the finger in her ass and the two in her pussy as deep as they would go. Her breathing was fast now, as intense as the expression on her face.

Edwin realised he was strangling his cock, his grip was so tight, so he eased up the pressure a fraction and continued stroking at a frantic pace, his free hand pulling his black shirt up around his shoulders in anticipation.

Patricia began to plunge her fingers deep inside herself, fucking both her holes at once with vigour, and Edwin's fist pumped up and down his cock, imagining it was his cock going in and out of her ass like that.

She paused for a second, adding a second finger to her asshole and a third to her pussy, then pushing hard, she slid them all back in again.

"Fucking filthy bitch," he snarled, knowing what was coming next, feeling his balls begin to tighten in anticipation.

Patricia's fingers were plunging in and out of her ass and cunt, as hard and fast as she could physically manage, and then her entire body stiffened and her head smacked back hard against the wall of the shower as she came.

Her fingers flew out her holes, all of them going rapidly into her wide open mouth, and as Edwin watched her suck on them, he saw her pussy twitching as she came and her ass opening and closing in glorious, exquisite detail. He came too.

Hot cum splattered out his cock onto his stomach, one spurt and a second, the remainder flopping and dripping onto his pelvis, matting his grey pubic hair, coating his hand.

Patricia's mouth closed, sucking hard on those fingers that had been deep inside her wet pussy, her tight ass, her brow furrowed and her cheeks rosy as her orgasm washed over her.

"Fucking dirty little whore," Edwin panted, his eyes glued to the screen as his hand fondled his sticky cock.

Patricia recovered quickly, her fingers leaving her mouth only to quickly tweak her nipples once, then she stood, rinsed herself off, washed her hands and turned the shower off.

Edwin leaned in the chair, panting and grinning as she left the shower. "Filthy fucking whore," he muttered. Idly he wondered who he'd stroke off to tomorrow morning. Over the last decade his habit had sat him in this chair and made him stroke off to movie stars, musicians, models, hundreds of gorgeous women unknowingly recorded in their most intimate of moments while visiting the Island as guests of Danny. And Edwin had them all recorded and stored. All for his personal pleasure.

"Maybe the Doctor," he muttered. "Or maybe I'll get that slut to dress up for me again. Some new fodder arriving soon though." He smiled, having seen the files of the three triplets. The two girls were hot. He was looking forward to seeing both of them in the most exquisite of detail.

Edwin carefully lowered his shirt over his cum-splattered stomach then fastened up his trousers and belt, trapping the cooling semen against his skin. Carefully he stood up and walked to the exit, feeling it oozing down his stomach. He smiled, loving the feeling, the scent of his own cum, especially if he bumped into anyone outside. He'd deliberately hold them in conversation, just to see if they'd notice the smell. Few did, none of them figured it out though.

He left the 'Bunker' and entered the kitchen, taking the sandwich that the Chef always left out for him, munching on it as he walked back to his apartment above the clinic.


The phone rang on Kyle's desk. He frowned, not needing the interruption. For the last three days he'd been working twelve hours trying to get the recommendation done for his company to purchase EDIT, an electronic records management application and he was nearly there.

"Hello. Kyle Watson, Business Strategy Team. Can I help you?" He replied, the standard answer whenever an internal call came through to his desk.

"It's Reception. There's a Mister Crowler here to see you. Says he's a lawyer."

Kyle frowned. "I don't have him in my diary."

"He says it's urgent that he speak with you," The security guy at reception stated.

"Em, okay. I'll be right down."

"Cheers." The other end of the line went dead.

Kyle headed for the elevator, the frown still creasing his features, wondering why a lawyer would be coming to see him. There was nothing legal he was involved in at work, he knew he was a pretty well behaved guy, and he knew he was up to date on his loan payments and all that.

He entered the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor, leaning against the wall as he tried to think of a single reason why a lawyer would be wanting to see him, but by the time the doors opened and he reached the reception desk, he still hadn't come up with one.

"He's in there," The portly security guy grunted, poking a thumb in the direction of one of the vacant meeting rooms HR used for interviews.

Kyle looked over, seeing an elderly man, around the age of retirement, but there was something very sharp about him. Maybe the slicked back white hair, or the black suit, shirt and tie, but from his initial glance, Kyle wouldn't be surprised to find out that this guy was Lucifers lawyer. He had that supremely confident look about him.

His frown still on his face, Kyle opened the door. "Hi. I'm Kyle Watson. Can I help you with something?"

The lawyer immediately stood offering a surprisingly warm handshake. "I'm Mister Crowler, Kyle. Thankyou for agreeing to meet with me at such short notice."

"Sure," Kyle said, closing the door and taking a seat opposite the old man. "Do you mind if you tell me straight away what it is you want? We've got three of the Company Directors in the building today, so it's kinda busy upstairs."

The old man nodded.

"Very well. I'm sure you're wondering why a lawyer has turned up out of the blue to see you. It involves an inheritance from a relative and you're one of the listed beneficiaries."


Kyle's eyes widened at the lawyers words. "Oh."

"Not what you were expecting?" Mister Crowler asked, an eyebrow raised at the expression on Kyle's face.

"I didn't know what to expect, but this wasn't even on the list," Kyle admitted. "Who are we talking about here? I don't know of any relatives of mine that have died." He frowned as he thought about it. "Not in the last few years anyway. Are you sure I'm the right Kyle Watson?"

"I'm absolutely sure." The lawyers confident expression left Kyle in little doubt, confusing him further.

"So.. Em... Who died?" Kyle nodded.

"For that you'll have to bear with me for a few moments while I show you a few files," Mister Crowler said, flicking open his briefcase and removing several Manilla files, placing them on the desk in front of him. The old mans fingers tapped for a few seconds on the files before he cleared his throat.

"Kyle, you are twenty three years old, born on the 19th of March, correct?" The lawyer's tone was precise, factual, and Kyle nodded.


"What I am about to tell you may come as a bit of a shock, so please bear with me." He flicked open the first file, containing several photos. The first was a black and white image of three babies, wrapped in blankets and woolen hats and they looked like they were only a day old.

"Babies," Kyle said aloud, knowing he was stating the obvious, but if he had fifty guesses at what was inside the manilla folders, a baby picture wouldn't have even crossed his mind.

"Correct," Mister Crowler replied. "This is a photograph taken of a set of triplets several hours after they were born on the 19th of March, twenty three and a half years ago, Kyle."

Kyle's eyes shot up to the old man's, but the lawyers gaze was fixed on the photo. His finger tapped the baby on Kyle's left.

"This baby was named Katarina." His finger moved to tap on the infant on the right. "This one was named Kara, and the one in the middle was named Kyle."

"Yeah, I think you've got the wrong Kyle, buddy," He said immediately. "I don't have any sisters, or twins, or whatever." He kept quiet the realisation that the central baby did look like him in his own baby photos, but Kyle wasn't convinced. Babies all looked the same to him anyway.

"Please, bear with me," The lawyer said firmly, moving the photograph to one side. Underneath the photo was a stack of papers, and Kyle could see Adoption Certificate written on the top one. His fingers deftly rotated the document so Kyle could read it.

His eyes met the lawyers a few seconds later. "I don't know anything about this documentation. I couldn't tell you if it's real or false. I know I'm not adopted though."

"Is this your birth certificate, Kyle?" Mister Crowler said, sliding another document in front of Kyle.

He checked and nodded, frowning as he wondered why the hell this lawyer could have a copy of what looked like his own birth certificate. "Could be, but I don't know how you have it."

The lawyer flicked another document next to the birth certificate. "This is a name change by deed poll that accompanies the adoption certificate," He continued in the factual, clinical and emotionless tone, flicking another two documents in front of Kyle. "And this is your original birth certificate."

Kyle forced himself to look carefully at what was in front of him. He knew that his own birth certificate was correct and couldn't see anything on it that was strange or unusual, so he began to read the name change document, and compared it with the adoption certificate. He could feel a knot in his stomach as he failed to find any inconsistencies, and with reluctance, he looked at the original birth certificate.

He read the name of the baby on the certificate and his eyes immediately shot up to the lawyers face, seeing an expression of sadness there, perhaps even a hint of empathy at the young man sitting opposite him whose very foundation was being pulled out from under him.

"The... The surname?" Kyle stammered.

Mister Crowler didn't say anything. He simply slid another photograph across the table, this time of the three infants, cradled in their fathers arms. It was a younger version of a familiar face, known the world over. For the past few days it had never been off the news.


Kyle looked at the certificate again, seeing the surname. Tripps.

He re-read the name of the person listed as the father. Danny Tripps.

Kyle looked back at the lawyer. "Seriously?"

Mister Crowler nodded. "Finding out that you're adopted must be a big shock, Kyle. Finding out your father was Danny Tripps must be just as big."

Kyle shook his head. It didn't make sense to him, this lawyer claiming he was adopted, let alone this absurd claim that Danny fucking Tripps, one of the wealthiest men in America, was his supposed father. A thought struck him.

"Did Ed put you up to this?" Kyle had two best friends, Ed and Casey. While Casey worked upstairs with him, their friend Ed worked as an illustrator on comic books, but was forever trying to punk them with practical jokes. This seemed right up his street, especially four days after the world found out Danny Tripps had died of cancer.

The lawyers expression turned serious. "Kyle, I assure you this is no joke. There is more information here for you, including a letter from Mister Tripps."

"A letter?" Kyle smiled, convinced this was the work of his buddy. He chuckled. "Let's see it then."

The old man frowned but opened the second file and pulled out an envelope, the paper rich and luxurious. Kyle didn't recognise the handwriting on the front, but he opened it up and unfolded the letter.


I imagine you're in a bit of turmoil right now. Try not to give Mr Crowler a hard time -- he's a good man and a good friend who's been stuck with a hard job.

Anyway, you've just found out I'm your father. Danny Tripps, billionaire, celebrity, playboy, entrepreneur, business genius, etc. I'm sorry to say that it's true, Kyle. And you deserve an explanation.

Twenty six years ago I met a wonderful woman named Karen, we fell in love and were soon married. I started my own business making computers and doing some programming, and soon my wife fell pregnant. Life was bliss. Then the business boomed, some of the software I'd written made me a small fortune and within months I was employing hundreds of people. The business side of things isn't important now, but a few more months passed and it was time to go to the hospital.

Karen gave birth to three infants, triplets, a month early, two girls and a boy, but immediately began to have complications. She was rushed into surgery, but it was no good. Just like that, the love of my life died. She was twenty five years old. She would have been a great mother.

I knew nothing about raising kids, and I was so overwhelmed with grief that the only thing I could think of was to throw myself into my work. Anything to get away from the pain. A doctor suggested offering you and your sisters up for adoption. I agreed, thinking it was the best for you. It was the biggest regret of my life. At the time though, it was the best decision I could have made.

You and your sisters were put with loving families, raised in nurturing and healthy environments, and despite my promise not to, I kept tabs on you all, helping out in little ways whenever I could. Scholarships, jobs and the like. I know it's not parenting, but you and your sisters are the only family I have, even if we've never met.

And that brings us round to the present. As I write this I'm dying. If you're reading this, then I'm already gone and you might have even heard about it on the news. Which brings me round to the point of all this. For twenty five years I've been building a business, an empire some would say, and along the way, tens of thousands of people have come to rely on me to keep their companies afloat, keep their jobs in place so they can raise their own families. It's a responsibility that I take seriously, which may well sound ironic to you, given that I haven't taken responsibility for raising my own children.

I'd like you to meet your sisters, Katarina and Kara. I'd like the three of you to get to know each other. All that I have now belongs to the three of you. My inheritance. I'm told it's quite a sum.

Mister Crowler will give you the details on what happens next, but here's the clip notes. Go to my Island in the Caribbean, get to know your sisters, learn a bit about what's being asked of you and decide what you want to do.

Along the way you might even get to know a little more about me.

In hope and love,

Danny Tripps

Kyle looked at the date on the letter, noting it was only two weeks old.

Gone were the doubts that this was Ed's work. This really wasn't his style at all. The knot in his stomach was twisting as he realised he'd have to make a call and speak to his parents. He had to ask.

"Would you excuse me for a couple of minutes, Mister Crowler. I need to make a call." Kyle saw the old man nod, but he was already on his way out the door. He moved on autopilot out the front doors of the building and onto the street, crowded with the usual mixture of coffee-toting office workers, shopping housewives and tourists and stepped into a doorway. He dialled.

"Hey, honey."

"Hi, Mom," Kyle replied, trying to keep his voice relaxed and casual. "Listen, I need to ask you something."

"Okay, honey, but you'll have to be quick. Your father and I are just about to leave," She replied. Kyle could hear a car door close in the background.

"Oh, right. Today's the hiking trip, right?"

He heard his Mom sigh down the phone. "I swear Kyle, you never pay attention."

He took a deep breath. "Mom, I need you to listen to me here, okay. I just had a visit at work from a lawyer called Mister Crowler."

Kyle paused as he heard his mother shout on his father. "Ben, you need to be in on this," He heard her say. "Okay, son. What did he say?"

"Mom, Dad. I've got to ask you. Am I adopted?" Kyle had his free hand held flat over his free ear, listening more intensely than he ever had in his life.

The silence that stretched into seconds on the other end of the line added to the sinking feeling in Kyle's stomach.

"Son, it's me," Kyle heard as his Dad came on the phone, his tone gentle. "It's true, son. We adopted you when you were only a few days old. I'm sorry you've found out like this. Do you want to meet up and talk about it? I can come and pick you up?"

Kyle pressed his face into the corner of the doorway, trying to think. It was true, he was adopted. His mind whirled with a myriad of emotions, feeling like his world had just been turned upside down, so he took several deep breaths, and thought about what he knew. His friends were his friends. His parents had kept this whopping big secret, but they'd raised him and been there for twenty three years for him. Did it really matter that they weren't linked by DNA? The thought helped him clear his head a little and he sighed.

After a moment he replied. "No, it's okay, and don't get all worried, okay. I know you're my parents, I know you're my Mom and Dad, you raised me and nothing's going to change that, okay?"

He could almost hear the relief in the tones of their replies, so he pressed ahead.

"Thing is, I've found out a little about who I was before I was adopted," Kyle added, not quite sure how to proceed with this bit. He opted for directness. "How much do you know about that?"

There was a hushed, whispered conversation at the other end of the line that ended abruptly after a few more seconds.

"We know who your birth father was, honey," Kyle's Mom said a moment later. "Do you?"

Kyle swallowed. "Yeah, I think so." His mouth was dry but he made himself say the words. "Danny Tripps, right?"

"That's right, son," His Dad said quietly. "We weren't supposed to know, but we did."

"Has he left you something in his will?" His Mom asked. "Is that why the lawyer is there?"

"Em, I think so," Kyle said, feeling more than a little nauseous now. "Listen, they're telling me I have sisters."

"What?" Both his parents replied at the same time.

"That I have sisters. Twins," He replied. "Well, actually triplets, but I'm one of them, apparently."

"Kyle, son, we had no idea," His Dad said, and Kyle knew deep inside that he was telling the truth. "Sisters?"

"Two of them," Kyle confirmed. "They want me to go and meet them."

"Then you should go," His Dad replied immediately.

"Absolutely," His Mom added. "Are you alright, honey?"

"Bit shell-shocked, I guess," Kyle replied. "Listen, I've got to head back in there. Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah, son, don't worry about us," His Dad answered. "We'll stick around here for a few days, I think. Why don't you come round for dinner tonight or before it you want, we'll have a chat."


Kyle frowned. "No, you should go on your trip. You two have been planning it for months." Every time Kyle visited his folks they had maps up of the areas of Canada they were hiking through and he knew they had various locations booked for the occasional night in a hotel and if they set off late they'd lose their reservations. "Honestly, I'm okay. You should go on your trip, and besides, I can call you if I need to. You guys can call me too, okay?"

Kyle could almost hear them silently discussing it with looks and gestures at the other end of the phone, something they'd done for as far back as he could remember.

"You sure, son?"

"Yeah, Dad. You and Mom go on your trip."

"You sure you're not pissed at us for not telling you?" His Dad asked bluntly, as was his way.

Kyle sighed. "Honestly, Dad. I'm not angry. I'm a bit shocked, and I can't say I won't be angry in the future, but if I get angry I know where to find you."

"That you do, son," His father replied. "You just pick up that phone and we'll come right back so you can vent your fury for as long as you need."

"Can I just ask, why didn't you tell me?"

"There was never a good time for it, honey," His Mom replied. "How do you bring something like that up in conversation?"

"Besides, you would have asked who your parents were, and we would have had to lie directly to your face, son," His Dad added. "We just couldn't figure out how to tell you."

"Fair enough," Kyle said, managing to sound calm while inside he just wanted to vanish somewhere quiet so he could process it all. "Have a good trip."

"Love you, honey."

"Love you too," Kyle finished and ended the call. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and walked back in to see what else the lawyer had to say.

"Everything okay, Mister Watson?" Mister Crowler asked as Kyle sat back down.

"I don't know if I'd describe it as okay," Kyle said a moment later. "Right, I've spoken to my parents."

"So you know I'm telling the truth then?"

Kyle swallowed and nodded. "Bit of a shock."

"I believe you. Shall I continue?"

"Might as well," Kyle replied.

"As he mentioned in the letter, Mister Tripps did his best to keep a discrete eye on you and your sisters while you were growing up, and he kept private files with the information for an occasion such as this. As he also said, we'd like you to come to Mister Tripps private Island, where you can meet your sisters and get to know each other without any of the constraints and pressures of the outside world."

"What does that mean?" Kyle asked.

"Pressures and so forth?" The old man asked. Kyle nodded, so he continued. "To give you one example, Mister Tripps was a very recognisable public figure with a long ongoing relationship with the press."

Kyle nodded, having seen him at movie premieres, award shows, chat shows and in the papers too.

"The press are already making enquiries about who will inherit the vast fortune of the Tripps Empire, and sooner or later someone will remember him in a hospital twenty three years ago and either do some digging, or simply open their mouth on their favourite social networking site. In todays instant-media world, it's only a matter of hours or days before you and your sisters get tracked down and beseiged by the media."

"You're shitting me," Kyle blurted. "Seriously? That's what you think is going to happen?"

Mister Crowler blinked. "That is what will happen, Kyle. We have experience with this."

"I would have thought they'd....." Kyle trailed off, thinking about it, and he knew that the old man was right in what he was saying. There would be a media frenzy, and he'd be right in the middle of it. "Fuck me sideways."

"I see we're on the same page, Kyle."

"I guess so," he replied unhappily. "So what happens now?"

"There should be a car outside for you. There's a private jet due to arrive in," He glanced at his watch, a polished silver pocket watch, then dropped it back in his pocket. "Nine hours time, that's half past eight tonight. Take-off will be around nine o'clock and the flight from San Antonio to Guadeloupe Island, the nearest airport to the Island, is around seven hours. From there you'll take a boat for an hour to the Island itself, so you should be there at around sunrise."

"Overnight journey?" Kyle asked, frowning. "It sounds exhausting."

"Unfortunately we have to get all three of you to the Island as soon as possible, so it's unavoidable on this occasion. However." The old man paused. "At the airport will be a woman named Patricia, an Executive Assistant to Mister Tripps with many years experience. She'll be your liaison, your point of contact and your assistant for the duration of your trip."

"Why do I need an assistant?" Kyle asked.

"Because you'll have a lot of questions," The old man said simply. "Now, Patricia is very good at her job and she'll be a real asset to you, so make sure you rely upon her."

"We'll see," Kyle replied, knowing he still wasn't sure if he was going to go to this Island at all. The idea of buggering off with his folks seemed appealing, despite his well-known aversion to hiking.

"In between now and tonight you'll have a driver to look after you. Her name is Caroline, I'm assured she's very good, and she'll have a few forms for you to complete. I also have this for you."

The old man slid an envelope over the table. Kyle opened it and emptied the contents. A Visa card, a Mastercard, a clear envelope with cash in it and a small keyfob.

"What's all this?"

"The credit cards are for you to purchase some suitable clothing for your trip, the cash for if you don't want to use your credit cards or if you need to tip, and the keyfob is a personal alarm," The old man explained. "If you push the red button, a security team will converge on your location and extract you from any situation or threat in the vicinity."

"Like bodyguards?" Kyle asked, shaking his head. "This is too surreal."

"I'd imagine there will be many surreal moments in the days to come," The old man replied.

"Pin numbers for the cards?" Kyle asked, picking them up and looking at them. They seemed almost holographic.

"The year of your birth. We can change that tomorrow for you."

"I suppose they've got like a twenty grand limit or something extravagant like that?" Kyle laughed.

"Not quite, no." Mister Crowler smiled. "I believe they're somewhere in excess of a couple of hundred thousand dollars, but they were set up in a hurry, so we'll get that straightened out too in the next few days."

Kyle snorted with laughter.

"Another surreal moment?" The lawyer asked, his expression blank.

"Something like that."

"So I've got a driver, a load of credit and cash and a goon-squad on standby, just to cover me for nine hours until I catch a plane to an Island paradise?"

"Not a plane, a private jet, but yes, close enough," he nodded.

"Fucking hellfire," Kyle said quietly, the laughter and incredulity of the moment stopped. "So do I just go back to my desk until I finish work now? What happens?"

"Oh, good lord, no," Mister Crowler replied, looking taken aback for the first time. "Mister Tripps actually owns this company, although it's not widely known. However, no, you don't need to return to your desk. In fact you don't need to return to it ever again if you so choose."

"What about my boss?" Kyle asked. "Sometimes he's a real dick, and I don't want him to throw a bitch fit."

"Kyle," The old lawyer said, leaning forward across the table. "It'll take a while to get your head round some of the changes that are going to happen to your life in the next few days, weeks and months. However, if your boss is, as you put it, a real dick, then you can always deal with it by coming back here in a few weeks and firing him."

"Good point actually."

"Now then, onto the last file," The old man said, gathering the other documentation away.

"What's in this one?"

"Your sisters."

Kyle felt that cold sinking feeling in his stomach again and suddenly his mouth was dry. He realised he was craving a cigarette again, and had been for some time, which was unusual as he'd quit nearly a year ago and hadn't had a craving in seven or eight months.

"Okay, let's see them," Kyle said, feeling a hint of excitement and fear at the thought of having sisters and wanting to find out who they were.

The lawyer opened the folder and slid two photographs across the table and Kyle's breathing almost stopped. His face turned white.

"Is everything okay, Kyle?" The old lawyer asked as Kyle stared at the photographs on the table. "You've gone a little pale."

In a voice barely above a whisper, Kyle said, "Oh, fuck, please let this be a joke."

Three Years Ago

Kyle Watson smiled. It had been an epic weekend so far.

Spring Break with his buddies hadn't really been something he was looking forward to, particularly as their destination was Myrtle Beach. Not exactly Cancun, Miami or Acopulco, but then, they weren't there for the sun. They were there to party.

Party they had, Kyle wearily observed. They'd arrived on the Friday morning, got drunk and partied with some chicks from University of Phoenix all night, but Ed had been the only one to score. Or at least, he was the only one who claimed to score. If he actually did, Kyle knew it would have required some divine intervention.

Once they'd slept a few hours they hit the Myrtle Waves Water Park. Kyle had felt too tired to do much but lie around with his shades on, admiring the ladies that passed by in their swimwear, but Ed and Casey had immediately hit the slides. It only took half an hour for Ed to return with a limp. Casey couldn't stop laughing as he told how Ed had taken off down one of the slides after a hot girl in a bikini and had been pushing himself so fast that he flipped sideways out the slide and landed on the edge of it, narrowly missing his balls but injuring his right leg in the process.

Kyle sat with Ed and listened to him grumble about his injury while Casey did what Casey does and took off in pursuit of several girls heading for the lazy river.

"You should get your shades on, Ed," Kyle suggested. "Some of the women going past here are fine. You can really check them out."

His buddy grunted, so Kyle shrugged and put his iPod on, listening to some tunes while he admired a particularly hot MILF in a red thong and matching top strolling past.

An hour or so passed and Casey finally came back full of excitement insisting they come and meet these girls from Bekeley College, down from New York for Spring Break. He'd met them on the lazy river and had been chatting with them for the last forty minutes and they wanted to meet Kyle and Ed too.

Kyle figured it sounded like fun, so he nodded and stashed his iPod under his towel, then got up to follow Casey. Ed grumbled but joined them anyway. It took ten minutes of paddling to catch up with the four girls on the lazy river, but Casey introduced them all as Jessica, Shanice, Julietta and Margarita.

"So I take it your names are all fake then?" Kyle had laughed, getting a round of grins from the girls.

"Well, if you fine-ass bitches are using fake names, it must be for one reason, and that reason is carnal sinning," Ed said, earning a scowl from Casey. "I'm fucking right, aren't I?"


"What a fucking douchebag," the brunette called Julietta muttered. Kyle did the only thing he could think of to remedy the situation. He tipped over Ed's inflatable, dumping him sideways into the river.

Thankfully the girls all laughed as he came up spluttering and the tension was eased. Over the next couple of hours they hung out with the girls, Kyle mostly chatting to Julietta, Casey to Margarita, while Ed tried unsuccessfully to get chatting with Shanice and Jessica, much to everyone's amusement.

With it being late in the afternoon though, the girls announced they had to head off.

"You guys want to meet up tonight at a party we're going to? It'll be around midnight, if that's not too late," Julietta said, placing her hand on Kyle's arm.

"I think we should be out partying by then," He grinned. "Where about?"

"Meet us in Club Boca. Know where that is?"

"Sure," He nodded. "We passed it last night. You want to give me your number?"

She shook her head, but smiled. "I wouldn't hear my phone anyway. Maybe later," She said, winking.

"I'll look forward to it," Kyle replied.

As the girls got out at the steps, Kyle casually back-paddled his inflatable, watching as they got out the water. Jessica was the first out, a thin blonde with a black one-piece making her skin look very pale. Second out was Shanice, a black curvy girl with a dazzling smile and nice hips, followed by Margarita, the most tanned of the group.

Kyle smiled, knowing why Casey had hit on her. She had by far the nicest body of the group and was the tallest by a couple of inches. Long dark hair tied in a ponytail, a black bikini, tight and firm all over, and an ass that reminded him of Jennifer Lopez.

Last out was Julietta, the girl he'd spent the last couple of hours chatting with. Her multi-coloured one-piece was slashed red and gold and showed her off quite nicely. She was average height, and pretty much average build. Nice ass, bit of a nice cleavage, nice legs.

Despite there being nothing outstanding about her, Kyle found her the most attractive of the four.

Julietta turned and waved to Kyle. "Remember. Midnight."

"We'll be there," He waved back.

"Feel free to forget the douchebag," She called as she disappeared.

"The douchebag will be coming," Ed shouted loud enough for half the park to hear. Realising everyone was looking at him, he muttered,"Shit," then tipped himself into the water.

"Come on!"

"He's got the bit between his teeth on this one," Casey admitted.

"I know," Kyle grunted. Ed had been going at them non-stop for the last hour about hitting a strip club, but Kyle and Casey were reluctant.. It wasn't that Kyle was against looking at naked women writhing all over him, but it was the amount of money they'd spend.

Three times in the past couple of years the three of them had gone to strip-bars and each time Kyle and Casey had spent over two hundred bucks each, while Ed had spent everything he had, and ended up relying on his friends to get him home again afterwards. Given they were planning on hitting the clubs to meet up with the girls later, Kyle and Casey were reluctant to let Ed loose or they'd end up paying for him all night.

"It'll be fun, fuckers. Come on," Ed repeated. "We'll see some tits, some hot ass, some wet pussy. Maybe even get a couple of girls to give us a private show, know what I mean?" He winked.

Kyle knew what he meant. He meant that Ed would chip in his last twenty bucks and Kyle and Casey would have to put in a hundred each so that the three of them could sit there and feel awkward watching two chicks play with each other for a couple of minutes. Then they wouldn't have enough money to do anything else.

"Ed, we can visit strip clubs back home. I want to get laid, and that doesn't happen with strippers," Kyle pointed out. "I want to meet the girls later."

"Yeah," Cased added. "You can't control yourself in these places man."

"Alright fuckers, what do I need to do to convince you not to be lame-ass cunts and go?" Ed said quickly, his gaze darting between his two friends. Kyle could see how eager he was.

"How much money have you got left, Ed?" Kyle asked.

"Two hundred and four bucks. We fucking leave tomorrow, guys. Pickup at ten past eleven," Ed said. "Come on, let's jjust go nuts, party like mother-fuckers and leave it all out there."

"I'll go if you give me one hundred and four bucks to keep for you until after we leave the strip club," Casey said after a moment.

"What? No fucking way, cocksucker," Ed blurted. "That's my cash."

"Yeah, but Casey's got a point," Kyle argued quickly. "It's gonna cost us at least twenty bucks to get into the club, plus drinks and then a cab back here. Throw in some food tomorrow. You can't afford to spend more than a hundred in a strip bar."

"Hundred and four bucks," Casey said, holding out his hand.

"No fucking way," Ed said. "Stop being such a bunch of fucking cockblockers."

"Yeah, I'm not going unless you give the cash to Casey either," Kyle said, crossing his arms.

"Or you can go out yourself, go to the stripclub on your own, and then wait for us to get in, but we're not giving you any cash at all. Not even tomorrow," Casey added.

"Fucking bitches. What the fuck?" Ed protested, but his resistance crumbled a moment later. "Okay, okay. Hundred and four bucks, but I want that fucking green back the second we leave the strip club, cunts."

"Okay," Casey shrugged, while Kyle grinned and headed into the bathroom for a shower and a shave. He really wanted to impress Julietta tonight. Or whatever her real name was.

Derriere's Gentleman's Club, the sign said outside.

"This place looks like a dive," Kyle muttered quietly. Still it did offer fully nude dances and you could bring in your own booze.

"Come on, losers," Ed grinned, a six-pack tucked under his arm. "Let's go see some shaking milk-bombs and wide open tampon-tunnels!"

Kyle shook his head at Ed. Sometimes the guy could be such a dick, but his vocabulary for slang terms when it came to the female anatomy was inexhaustible.

"Dude," Casey said. "If you call them that in front of any woman you're never gonna get laid."

"I do fine, fucktard," Ed grinned. "Come on, let's go."

Kyle followed Ed and Casey into the club, paying the steep twenty five dollar door fee. The club looked a lot better inside than it did outside, and there must have been a hundred guys in the room, with a bit of a relaxed policy of under twenty-one getting applied by the security staff. There was even a table of women across the room, getting cheers as one of them slipped a note into the g-string of a dancer. True to the advertising, a dancer was on another stage, gyrating around a pole, dressed only in black stockings and heels.

"Full nudity, bitches," Ed announced.

"Come on, let's go get a table," Kyle said, keen to get out of earshot of the security before Ed got them bounced right back out the door.

They sat down around a small table with four armchairs and within thirty seconds Ed was waving a twenty at a tall, skinny redheaded dancer with underwear the same colour as her hair.

"You looking for a dance, sugar?" she asked, her accent betraying her East-european origins.

"You better fucking believe it, baby," Ed grinned, leaning forward in his chair.

"Follow me, big boy," she purred, taking him by the hand and leading him off through an archway draped with strings of silver beads.

"He's gonna get kicked," Kyle laughed.

"Yep," Casey nodded. "No chance he can keep his hands to himself."

"Bet you five bucks it takes less than two..." Kyle's voice trailed off as he caught sight of a familiar face. "That's Julietta.... from the waterpark!"

She was about thirty feet across the room, with long black curly hair, tied up at the back and dressed in black and silver underwear that showed off her body to perfection. She stood amidst a table of four guys, baiting them on to buy a dance.

"The stripper with the long dark hair?" Casey asked, looking where Kyle's gaze was fixed. "That a wig she's got on, bro?"

"Must be." Julietta's hair was cut in a short bob that swept to one side, but her hair was a similar shade to the wig she was wearing. "She never said she was a fucking stripper. Business student at Berkeley, she told me."

"Well, if she's working here, she must have been planning to blow us off," Casey pointed out. "I wonder if the rest of the girls work here too. I'm going for a look." Kyle nodded as Casey got up and left the table.

He watched Julietta for a minute or two, feeling pretty disappointed that she'd lied to him today. He genuinely thought they were getting on good, that there was a mutual attraction there, and he felt optimistic about his chances tonight. Not now though.

"Hey baby," Kyle heard as he felt a touch on his arm. He turned to see the dancer from the stage when they'd first come in, now with a tight black dress on to supplement her stockings and heels.

"Hi," he replied, not really sure what to say.

"You gonna spend the night looking at Sahara from afar, or would you like to look at Piper close up?" she purred quietly.

"Erm... which one are you?" Kyle asked, confused.


The dancer laughed. "I'm Piper, sweetie. The girl over there is Sahara. You looking for a dance with me?" She lowered her voice and whispered in his ear. "I don't tease like she does. I deliver."

"Mind if I ask something?" Kyle blurted, partially intoxicated by Pipers perfume, but determined to get to the bottom of the Sahara/Julietta thing.

"As long as it ends up with you and me having some private time, sweetie," she replied, turning and sitting on his knee, her stocking-clad legs crossing on his lap.

"Sahara," Kyle began. "I met her today, at the water park. Is her real name Julietta?"

To his surprise Piper laughed. "I think you're getting her confused with someone else, sweetie. Sahara wasn't at no waterpark today. The girl can't even swim."

Kyle frowned. "She was only on the lazy river anyway. It's only four foot deep."

"Trust me, sweetie," Piper smiled. "Sahara wasn't at no water park today. And her name ain't Julietta neither."

"Well if it wasn't her, she must have a frickin twin in town," Kyle said, turning back to look at the brunette that was the spitting image of the girl he'd spent two hours talking to that afternoon.

"Anyway, enough about Sahara," Piper said, whispering in his ear once more. She shifted her hips slightly on his lap, getting his attention. "Let's you and me go for a dance."

Kyle felt drawn in two directions. He really wanted to get a dance with Sahara to find out if it was Julietta or not, but Piper had been very helpful, her scent was intoxicating and her butt felt very nice as it wriggled on his lap.

She stood up and took his hand, then cocked an eyebrow at him. "Let's go."

Before the dance Piper said she delivered, but Kyle honestly thought he'd had much better lapdances. It was as if her heart wasn't in it, and neither were her acting skills. He gave her twenty bucks anyway for going through the motions, thanked her and then returned to Casey, joined a moment later by Ed.

"Woo, mother fuckers," Ed crowed as he sat down heavily. "That girl was all over me like a fat kids tongue on chocolate ice cream."

"You just had a lapdance and all you can think of to describe it is a fat kid licking ice cream?" Casey laughed. "Dude, that's fucked up."

"That's not what I fucking meant," Ed said quickly but the damage was done and while Kyle kept an eye on Sahara, Casey kept getting digs in on Ed.

"Hey, did you find her friends here?" Kyle asked Casey, remembering his friends search.

"No, man. They're not here. I even asked if there was girls on their break through the back, but the bartender said they were all working because it was so busy."

"I asked one of the other dancers and she said it's not her," Kyle explained. "Her name's Sahara apparently."

"Stripper names are hot!" Ed added.

Kyle and Casey ignored him. "Do you think she was telling the truth?" Casey asked. "Be a shame if it was her and the girls weren't going to meet us, but if it's just someone who looks like her then the girls might still be at Club Boca at twelve."

"She said that Sahara can't swim, and definitely wasn't at the waterpark today."

"You should get her over for a dance," Casey suggested. "You can ask her yourself."

"I'm waiting for her to be done with those guys," Kyle explained.

"Fuck that shit," Ed said getting up. "I'll go get her."

"Fuck no!" Kyle said quickly while Casey grabbed Ed's wrist. "You're not exactly Mister Tact-And-Diplomacy, Ed."

"So? She's only a stripper and I know how to talk to strippers."

"Yeah? What about the four guys she's talking with though?" Casey pointed out.

"Man, you're such a pussy," Ed stated. Much as Kyle didn't like to agree with Ed on much, what he said was true. Casey would avoid any kind of potential physical confrontation and if one happened he was off like a scalded cat. He had no problem talking with women, but if there was other guys nearby showing an interest he'd avoid them like the plague rather than risk starting something.

"Ed, have a seat, man," Kyle said. "I'll get her as soon as she's done with those guys, okay? Besides, there's no big rush. We don't have to be at the club for another hour."

"Yeah, man," Casey added. "It's probably not even her anyway."

"Whatever, bitches," Ed said, taking a seat and opening another of his beers.

They sat there for another half an hour while Sahara took three of the guys individually in for dances, with Kyle biding his time. Ed disappeared for another two lapdances and Casey went for one. Another dancer approached Kyle but he declined the offer and after that the dancers seemed to leave him alone.

By the time Sahara returned after the third dance and the fourth guy at the table declined a dance with her, Kyle was about ready to hop out his chair and go over but she turned and looked right at him and then strutted over.

It was so bizarre, he thought to himself as he saw absolutely no flicker of recognition on her face.

"Hey, gorgeous," she said as she sat on the arm of his chair, and he knew there and then it wasn't Julietta. It was her voice. It was different. A completely different tone. Different accent. More husky and a little more Southern than Julietta's Manhattan twang.

"Your name's Sahara, right?" Kyle said, more for a way of starting the conversation off.

"That's right," she nodded slowly. "A little bird told me you're looking for some quiet time with me." She didn't ask a question but made it a solid statement.

"Yeah, see today I was at a waterpark and I met this girl."

"And she teased you, am I right?"

"Not exactly," Kyle replied, a nervous smile on his face. He couldn't get over how much she looked like Julietta. "I met this girl and you two are unbelievably similar. I thought you were her."

"Well I don't have any sisters, and I wasn't at any waterparks today. I was too busy working on my all over tan," she said, making every word sound seductive. "Want to go to a private room so I can show you it?"

"Em... sure," Kevin replied. He'd spent most of his time in the club watching her, and if it wasn't Juletta then he wanted her to dance for him. If it was Julietta, then even better. He handed her the twenty bucks he had held in his hand for the last half hour.

"Follow me," she said firmly. "What's your name, handsome?"


"You already know my name."


"Shall I tell you what else you know?" she said, dragging the beads out the way and beckoning him through the archway.

"Sure," Kyle stammered, feeling suddenly more nervous now than he had since his first ever time in a strip club.

"That I'm going to give you a dance you'll remember for the rest of your life," she purred. Her hand dragged him into a small booth to the right of the archway and he thumped into the seat. A single light shone down in the booth from above and music pumped from speakers high on the walls throughout the room.

"Remember, no touching, Kyle," she breathed in his ear as she sat down astride his lap. She sat upright, her thighs either side of his and took a hold of his wrists, then paused a second, giving him a curious look.

"What's up?" he asked, intensely aware of her chest inches from his face and the weight of her body on his.

"Nothing," she said quietly as if breaking from a trance. She took his wrists and placed them either side of him on the chiar. "Keep your hands there, Kyle. You're not gonna need them." Then she winked. "I know you've been watching me for a while now."

Without a seductive smile, Sahara leaned back, her pelvis pressing into his and she continued, arching her back until her head was on the small table in the booth. Then, in time with the pulsing music, she began to pump her hips on his, as if she was riding him.

Kyle took a deep breath as his body immediately responded to this sultry woman gyrating on him, grinding her crotch on his through her thin black panties with the silver lace.

Sahara bumped him extra hard, then four beats later the same again, then once more. Her hips resumed their quick movement, rocking on him in time with the music.

"Oh Jesus," he muttered, feeling his cock begin to rise in his jeans. With his hands at his sides he could feel it getting thicker and longer, growing down the right leg of his trousers. Without adjustment it was going to get painful.

Sahara flicked herself back upright on his lap, a graceful and erotic movement that placed her chest right in front of his face. Kyle licked his lips, acutely aware of her breathing and the rise and fall of her breasts.

He felt Sahara's hand slip around behind his neck and she began to slowly ride him, as if on a bucking bronco in slow motion, grinding her hips on him, her flat taught stomach rolling with each movement.

"Oh Jesus," he repeated.

Her hands came up to her chest, barely a foot from his face and her finger glided slowly over her bra, tender fingertips caressing the material until they met in the middle. A smooth graceful motion had the front clip undone and then she rolled her head back and thrust her chest forward as her bra slid off her shoulders.

The luxurious full shape of her breasts moved within inches of Kyle's face and as his mouth dropped open of it's own volition, suddenly she swung away again, her left hand landing on his forehead. Kyle felt his head being held firmly agianst the seat as Sahara rose onto her knees, her breasts hovering deliciously over his open mouth.

He watched in agonisingly close detail as her free hand caressed her nipple for a moment, her face invisible in the silhouette of the overhead light, and then she brought it towards his mouth. Kyle's tongue flickered out, so close, aching to taste her tight little pink nub, longing to suck it into his mouth and pleasure her.

Her body swayed, bringing her nipple closer then swinging away out of reach by a few inches, then back again once more. Kyle's tongue darted out at each swaying movement, but her hand held his head firmly in place, his tongue as little as an inch out of reach of it's target.

He groaned, an involuntary sound that brought her nipple closer. His tongue stretched out, as far as he could make it reach and he strained as she inched her breast in, closer and closer until he was sure he would be able to lick her nipple. He positively ached for it, and it was all he could do to keep his hands at his sides and not drag her into his mouth.

She released his head from the seat, but before Kyle could smother her nipple in his mouth she stood up, swaying her hips from side to side above him, slowly shuffling backwards for a moment, before she suddenly dropped to a crouch.


With the lightest of touches, her hands spread his knees apart, and her head darted between his legs, down low, almost under his balls, and he felt her nose touching the material of his trousers.

"Holy fuck," he growled, his breathing deep, his cock straining tight against the inner leg of his trousers as she moved her head around his groin.

Sahara's tongue darted out a moment later, right at the bottom of his button-fly, pressing through the denim on the base of his shaft, then slowly probing along the length of his cock, it's bulge easily visible. It continued, sometimes above, sometimes below, but always in contact until her tongue met the tip of his trapped erection.

Her eyes rose to meet his. "Now this won't do, will it?" she purred, barely audible above the pulsing music. Her hands slid down the inside of his thighs, her right caressing the underside of his balls, the left positioning itself under his cock, and as Kyle gasped, she maneuvred his erection until it was upright in his trousers.

Sahara's tongue dragged itself up his button fly, bulging from the contained erection, from bottom to the tip and for a couple of seconds her head bobbed up and down, as if she was sucking him off. Kyle felt a desperate need to wrap his fingers in her hair and hold her in place, but before he could lose control and grab her she had moved again.

This time she half stood and turned around, her back now to him, her luscious, gorgeous buttocks in front of him. Again he licked his lips as they slowly lowered onto his waist, nudging a little from side to side until he could feel his erection nestled between the cheeks of her ass.

This was already a completely different class of lapdance from the one he'd experienced with Piper a short time ago.

Sahara slowly dragged her ass down the length of his cock, and as Kyle's head pressed back against the chair in blissful agony, she slowly rode back up him. Her hands rose to either side of her head, lacing themselves in her hair as her buttocks began to slowly ride his cock, pulling his foreskin up and down with every motion.

Kyle was in heaven. If it was possible to fuck someone without penetrating them, then this was it, and Sahara was really going to town on him. As her ass dragged up and down either side of his cock, she leaned back slowly until her head lay on his right shoulder. He could feel her breath on his neck as he looked at her breasts, her nipples tight and hard and agonisingly close, yet still out of reach.

He shivered as her tongue darted out, caressing the skin of his neck, slowly tracing an invisible pattern higher and higher until his ear was sucked into her mouth. Kyle's eyes closed, the sensations all over his body becoming more intense by the second as Sahara manipulated his senses.

His eyes snapped back open as she released his ear from her mouth and he watched as her fingertips took a light grip on her nipple, twisting it slightly, pulling it a little, making it stiffer and harder as her buttocks pressed down on his cock.

"Fuck," he said, his voice thick with desire.

Sahara slowly sat upright, her ass lifting off his cock as she stood and bent over, yet her hand darted down, caressing his erection as if reassuring it. Kyle could see right between her legs and the outline of her pussy through the black panties. His heart raced in hope that she was about to take them off.

Her knees bent again, bouncing her ass off his cock a couple of times as if she was riding him, but her legs straightened again a moment later and one of her hands moved between her legs, a finger tracing the the lips of her pussy and continuing between the cheeks of her ass.

Kyle licked his lips again as the finger continued up past her ass, stopping at the waistband of her panties and hooking inside.

"Please," he mouthed silently, smiling as the finger began to draw her panties down, inch by inch, right in front of him. They peeled slowly from her skin, Sahara bent over right in front of him, presenting him with the best possible view, close up.

Kyle took a deep breath, his heart racing as his eyes focussed on her imminently visible asshole yet Sahara twisted her body a half-turn to the right, teasing him further. He could see the wicked grin on her face as she watched his reaction, swaying her ass from side to side as she slid her underwear down over her buttocks, then slowly down her thighs, dropping them to the floor.

Kyle wanted her desperately to resume her previous position, yet she continued swaying her hips before him, side on so he couldn't get a glimpse of what he longed to see. His cock was aching for attention and he shifted his hips a little to try and ease the pressure.

Sahara paused, stopped the swaying of her hips and placed a hand back on his forehead. The view of her body in profile just intensified Kyle's lust and he was sure he could hear his heart thumping above the beats of the pulsing music in the small room.

He gasped as Sahara moved quickly, a graceful fluid motion that suddenly had her feet either side of his hips with her hips above his head, her gorgeous pussy right in front of his face. Kyle swallowed, an unconscious reaciton to the sight before him.

As he watched, Sahara held his head in place, barely a foot away from her naked pelvis and she slid her free hand slowly down over her stomach, over her hip and then onto her shaven mound. Her fingernails traced in circles on the sensitive skin and Kyle was sure there were goosebumps there, so delicate was her touch.

Her fingers slid lower, caressing the lips of her pussy, sliding back and forth along either side and Kyle mouth opened wide as she slid her index finger inside her, a quick dip that accepted her whole finger with no hesitation. Her finger slowly began to slide back out yet darted back in as deep as it would go. Sahara arched her back as she fingered herself, and Kyle licked his lips, feeling as if his cock got any harder it would burst.

As he watched she slid her finger free from the depths of her pussy, and as she brought it towards Kyle's mouth he opened wide, pressing forward to meet it, wanting nothing more in that instant than to suck her finger clean and taste her wetness.

Sahara's hand pressed firmly on his forehead keeping him in place and his eyes flickered up to hers, seeing the delightful smirk of a born tease on her beautiful features. Before he could make another move her wet finger swiped right under his nose, drawing from left to right, leaving a moist trail of her scent between his lip and nose.

"Yeah," Kyle blurted, immediately closing his mouth and inhaling through his nose to try and catch a whiff of her. His tongue darted out and wiped his upper lip, catching a slight hint of pussy on the tip of his tongue, but not enough to satisfy him.

Sahara's hands moved to either side of his head and her pelvis began to sway towards him. He felt his head get yanked back a little and he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue up, desperately hoping to taste her, to pleasure her and to feel her writhing on him. He knew he was breathing fast, was aroused beyond belief, and he wanted this girl, even if it wasn't Julietta. She was too toned, too firm to be the girl he'd chatted with that day. Sahara was like the evil-twin version of Julietta. Well, her erotic alter-ego.

His tongue probed as her pussy got closer, longing to make contact with that beautiful moist haven, yet she remained just out of reach. Her hips rocked back and forth in front of him, and he could smell her, sense that she was aroused too. She was too close for him to see but it was all instinct.

Each time he tried to lift his head and plunge into her with his tongue she either pressed his head back into the seat or her hips swayed just out of reach. She was an incredible tease and she was playing him like an expert. He was overcome with desire, longing to taste her, touch her, or possess her, trapped by the knowledge that if he pushed his luck and used his hands or used his strength to taste her his feet wouldn't touch the floor until he was on his face out on the street.

His eyes flickered up to hers, and she paused, frozen with that same curious, quizzical look on her face she had before the dance started. She was looking at him as if something wasn't quite right.

As she stood there above him, her pussy barely inches from his mouth, he took a chance and pushed his tongue forward, then pulled the back of his head from the seat.

Kyle was in heaven the instant that the tip of his tongue slid between her lips, immediately tasting her scent, her arousal. He flicked his tongue up, seeking and finding that delicious little bud that maximised the pleasure and he dragged his tongue firmly up it, flciking upwards with the very tip of his tongue.

It had been only a second, probably not even that, yet he saw the expression of pleasure cross her face at the same time as her back arched and her pussy lifted back out of reach. The hands on his head pressed him back, yet Kyle was exultant. He'd tasted her, she was wet, and it was all he could think of.

Sahara began to sway to the pulsing music, now further away from him, but as his eyes slid slowly up her body Kyle thought she had never looked hotter. His eyes met hers and he could see the intensity of her eyes, staring at him as if trying to decide something only she knew. He hoped she would decide to give him another taste.

Kyle watched as she bent at the knees, her feet still either side of his hips and her hands slid to behind his neck as she slowly squatted down onto his hips, bringing her to a similar position to when she had first started the dance for him, although now she was naked, he was hard and he knew she was wet.

He felt her pussy resting on his erection, only the denim of his trousers separating them and then she lifted free of him, her hips rising and falling a moment later further down his cock. A slow, body-arching movement dragged her pussy up the length of his erection and Kyle growled in intensity of the pleasure and desire coursing through him.

She repeated the movement again, then a third time, and then as he was thrusting up to meet her she paused, leaving him there humping his jeans. She smiled, and Kyle smiled too, knowing he was being manipulated by a master and not caring. He was loving every second of it.

Sahara slid back and lowered her feet to the floor. Her body swayed, twisted and danced for him between his thighs, shadows and light flickering over her skin with each movement. As she rotated slowly Kyle glanced down at her ass, firm and taught yet shapely enough for him to want to bury his face in it.

She backed into him, the back of her knees hitting the inside of his thighs and then she slowly lowered herself down, resuming the position she'd held earlier, her buttocks enveloping his erection through his trousers and she began to rock her hips.

Sahara leaned back, this time to his left. Her head came down on his shoulder as her buttocks continued to rock up and down his pelvis, jerking him off, making him gasp. She sucked his ear in her mouth again, intensifying things further for Kyle, further than he could handle.

"Did you enjoy your wicked little taste?" she whispered in his ear, her voice deep and husky.

Kyle nodded, his eyes closed. He longed to lift his hands and grab her hips, her breasts, anything to keep her in place. The constant motion on his cock was going to make him cum, he knew, but he didn't care he was still dressed, didn't have any thoughts beyond the pleasure of that moment.

"Thrusting your tongue into my wet little pussy like a bad boy?" she continued, drawing a groan from Kyle as her ass worked his cock. He could feel his breathing deepen. His balls begin to tighten and he knew it wouldn't be long.

"And now you want to cum, don't you?" she whispered.


"Yes," Kyle gasped. He felt her suck in his earlobe once more, releasing it quickly. Her hips took a longer and slower ride down his cock.

"I bet you want to touch me, don't you?" Sahara whispered. "To grab me, to take me, to fuck me."

Kyle's cock was going to explode and he knew it. His breath was coming in sharp gasps now, hard and fast as Sahara lay on top of him, working his cock with her buttocks, working his mind with her words.

He felt her hands fasten on his wrists, lifting them both. She pulled them up to meet her rocking hips and he gripped a hold of them, holding them in place to push his cock against, but Sahara continued to arch her back, riding his length up and down, manipulating his cock. He could feel it start to happen and his entire body tensed up.

"Is my ass going to make you cum, Kyle," she whispered in his ear.

Before Kyle could reply Sahara's buttocks tensed up, gripping him and her hips rocked fast, much faster than before, riding him hard and firm through his trousers. It sent him right over the edge.

His breathing changed, deep fast pants of breath mixed with groans, right in her ear. His cock pumped out spurt after spurt of cum onto the inside of his boxers. His body exploded in waves of pleasure, hard surges of bliss as the dancer on his lap manipulated him into and through his orgasm.

"Good boy," she murmured, jerking him off with the cheeks of her ass.

Moments later Kyle's hands fell away from her hips, exhausted and sated as the last of his orgasm washed over him. Sahara lay still across his body now, relaxed and motionless. Her tongue darted out and traced a circle on his neck.

"Did you enjoy the dance, Kyle?" she said quietly as he lay there panting.

He nodded, not really capable of words or coherent sentences.

"And it's a dance you'll remember for the rest of your life, isn't it?" she said. He could hear the the wickedness in her voice with a hint of self-satisfaction for a job well done.

He nodded. "F... fuck yes," he stammered a moment later. "Incredible."

She kissed him on the cheek, a surprisingly tender and gentle kiss, her right hand coming up to hold him in place. "My pleasure," she murmured.

Kyle felt her shift her weight as if she was about to get up, and his hands clasped her hips. "Don't go."

"I gotta get dressed, Kyle," she said, smiling at him. She wiggled her hips from side to side.. "Besides, I think you might need to go clean up."

She kissed his cheek once more, a disarming gesture that provided affection at the same time as reminding Kyle that the dance was over. This time as she shifted her weight to sit up he let her go, feeling her sitting upright on his lap, her back to him.

Kyle became aware of how the inside of his trousers were plastered with cum, and it was rapidly cooling now. She was right, he knew. He'd need to go clean up, and with a sigh of regret he accepted that the dance was finished.

"You're a hell of a good dancer, Sahara," he said, watching as she bent over to pick up her panties and bra.

She wiggled her hips on him, giving him a physical response rather than a verbal one he probably wouldn't have heard anyway. He took it as a sign she was pleased with his compliment and while she slipped her panties around her ankles, he pulled another twenty from his pocket.

Sahara stood, bent over at the waist and slid her panties back up her legs. It was the first glimpes Kyle got of her ass and of her pussy from the rear and it made him lick his lips. She straightened as she slipped her black panties with the silver lace back up, adjusting them on her hips and then she half-turned and sat on his right thigh.

"Here," Kyle said, lifting the twenty and handing it to her. "Best dance I've ever had. If I could give you a hundred bucks I would, and you'd stil deserve a tip."

"Aren't you sweet," she said, and gave him a brief peck on the lips. "Thank you, Kyle."

Sahara slipped her bra back on in a swift, practiced movement, fastening it and then running her fingers quickly through her hair, shrugging it back into place.

"Shall we?" she said, standing and holding a hand out to Kyle to help him get up.

He smiled, took her hand and stood up, feeling a little wobbly for a moment, making her chuckle.

"Knee trembler?"

Kyle nodded. "Told you you were good."

"Oh, I know I'm good," she said, smirking. "Honestly though, I don't usually get turned on when I do a lapdance, but there's something about you, Kyle."

Kyle smiled, but he knew that was a line. He didn't say anything further, but let her lead him from the booth and back through the beaded curtains to the main room.

She stopped and gave him a peck on the cheek, and with a whispered, "Thanks for the dance," she was off. Kyle looked over at his friends, watching a dancer up on the main stage doing naked acrobatics with her thighs clasped around a steel pole, and smiling, he headed for the bathroom.

Kyle, Ed and Casey arrived at Club Boca but had to wait in the queue. The time passed quickly with Casey repeatedly reminding Ed not to be a total dick and Ed repeatedly quizzing Kyle about the lapdance. Since he cleaned himself up in the bathroom at the club, Kyle hadn't said a word about it to his buddies. He'd also ditched his boxers in the restroom waste-paper bin and ended up going commando. There was no way he was going to tell Ed that story.

At a little after twelve they were admitted to Club Boca, a large place focussed around dancing and drinking, with DJ's playing a mixture of mainstream dance and latin house music, and Kyle immediately picked up on the cool chilled vibe of the place. Ed and Casey hit the bar while Kyle went looking for the girls. The guys had caught up with him again by the time he spotted them, so the three of them walked over to join them.

"Hey," Kyle smiled as he approached Julietta.

"Hi Kyle," she said, smiling back. "So you guys made it then? We thought you weren't gonna show."

Kyle smiled, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that Sahara wasn't Julietta, but the similarity to her was frightening. Realising he hadn't answered her, he smiled. "Yeah, we got stuck in the line outside. Here now though."

"Glad to hear it," Julietta replied giving him a nudge with her elbow.

"Hey, wanna dance?"


Kyle followed her down to the dance floor and took the opportunity to check her out. He really dug the short black skirt and boots and the black and white cut-off top she wore really showed her off. Once they were on the dance floor, Kyle let himself go. He'd always enjoyed dancing, especially in clubs and when a lot of his friends went through that phase where they thought that dancing was 'gay', Kyle was able to dance with most of the hot chicks in his school. Now he was twenty he felt comfortable on the dance floor.

While they enjoyed the music, Kyle noticed the odd guy checking out Julietta from time to time. She really did look hot, he noted, and he liked how she kept looking at him. Despite his earlier orgasm at the strip club he could feel a tingle of excitement in the pit of his stomach.

After fifteen minutes or so out on the floor, where they were briefly joined by Casey and Margarita, they stopped for a drink. Kyle grabbed them a couple of stools looking down on the dancefloor and they sat down.

"So what you been up to tonight then?" Kyle asked.

"Oh, you know. This and that," she grinned. "Four girls out on the town."

"I can imagine," he laughed. "Lots of teasing and flirting?"

"Little bit," she replied, laughing. "Bit of drinking, bit of dancing too."

"Good stuff." He took a swig of his beer and after offering Julietta another drink, he popped down to the bar and got a round of drinks in for them all. When he got back Ed was telling them all about the strip club they were at earlier.

Kyle groaned, as he hand't intended telling any of the girls about Derriere's Gentleman's Club but he should have known that Ed was incapable of any kind of tact or diplomacy. He popped the drinks down on the table and picked up his and Julietta's, handing her it.