Lap of Luxury Page 2
LisaAnn shook her head saying, “You’re joking.” All she wanted to do was lay down and sleep.
John took the sleeping babies from her weary arms and carried them to their cradles, kissing their foreheads and pulling their little covers over their tiny bodies.
After visiting the little boy’s room he dashed back into the lounge room to find LisaAnn asleep on the couch with the others watching the movie.
“Put this cushion behind her head,” Eunice suggested to John.
He lifted her head gently with his hand then placed the Indian patterned cushion under her sweet head. For a brief moment her eyes fluttered open, he reassured her, as he lent over her, “This is our home, this is where daddy stays with his cutsie little girl and our cutsie little babes, okay?”
She stared at the view and then at him saying, “Beautiful,” her eyelids closed until the movie ended, then he carried her to bed.
He was devoted to her.
His family sat in the kitchen sipping consommé from porcelain soup buckets discussing the shape of the future.
It had been a particularly dry, windy day on the island, drying on the skin. Eunice worked the Norwegian hand cream into her rough hands it was free of fragrance so therefore was passed around to the males and Josef’s new girl.
The entire family and their friends had spent three hours that afternoon industriously planting seeds in beds well tilthed around the house. Money saving tips were passed on from family friend Mavis to Eunice and LisaAnn regarding the preparation for colour co-ordination in the garden.
“Styrofoam boxes thieved from the supermarket make great miniature gardens,” Mavis told them, all giggling at the dirty ‘t’ word.
John proudly bragged, “My sabre raised the minute my gorgeous wife had bent over in her mini skirt to fill the tub with seed-raising mix, so by the time she got to scattering the seeds over the top, her skirt had rided up to meet her tank top, her chubby moist buttocks, either side of her G-string, wobbling like crazy, all I could do was burst. It’s a good thing, in a way, annual blooms have a brief life span.”
“The sabre shapes the future!” was the comment made by the men. The comment by the women, “The gravy secures it!”
“Her pink begonias and white lobelia will turn out as twice as nice as coconut ice,” John added giving the green thumbs up. On that note they scrambled into their beds sleeping heavily until dawn. But as Ann-Marie slept beside Josef at his home, she tossed and turned all night long, jealousy eating away inside of her as she asked herself, “What does LisaAnn have that I don’t have, to score such a lover as this man?”
“It is a valued thing, like a hoard of gems, to, in all measure, keep one’s attention fixed on this present day’s contest, not yesterdays,” John told LisaAnn upon arising.
Elation took the place of an increase in the gravity of her burden. The day unfolded with as much delight as a spring fashion show.
John’s bronzed goddess spent the first half hour of her day, twice a week exfoliating her flesh with a polishing body mud she created herself. He thoroughly enjoyed watching the delicate process that made her feel much better about herself.
Dressed in her best birthday suit, she felt the warm glow of his nearness as together they sat in the tub for a scrub of mud with his loofah mitt, then rinsed off. It not only got their skin glowing it got their heartlights aglowing. This was the total affect, with maximum effort, revealing fresh flesh to begin a fresh day, and as the buffy law goes, moisturized skin following a good body scrub is absorbent, therefore benefiting in a youthful complexion always.
She enjoyed baring her naked body before him they dried each other off and rubbed richly scented moisturizer all over each other’s bodies.
“A body-perfect,” he would tell her every day. This resulted in high self-esteem for both of them, as she too would return the compliment. Their coerced grins were a ray of beaming sunshine.
His arms closed around her, their bodies making intimate contact. To her he was an extraordinary man in every physical and intellectual sense and by now he knew her feelings well. The way she stared at him was always a warm welcome to him. He deeply appreciated this.
He carried her out of the bathing quarters and laid her naked body on the bed, he tripped over his slippers and landed on top of her, pinning her down.
“What a fortunate accident, kiss me,” she begged.
His lips met hers as the sunlight flooded his cute, sexy crop of rose-red highlights. Time, once again demanded they cease their sexual activities, scramble to their feet and dress one another for the day’s activities.
The rich and opulent design of the satin magenta and peacock quilt cover set had transported them away to a different time and place all through the night until the dusty pink see through tab top curtains caught the cheeriness of an unclouded morn.
Out of one window a picturesque view of Golden Wattle trees and thick Lantanna scrub decorated the sides of a small cliff in the distance, the road below clinging to its side and cutting through an overhang of rock known as the natural shelf. Beyond this skirted peaceful Moreton Bay.
Meditation on the site before them gave them a chance in this speedy world to sit down and think things through carefully in order to come up with some logical explanations for all that had been happening in her past and to discover a less ridiculous route to follow in the future.
“There is no doubt about it, faith takes you places,” LisaAnn calculated.
“It’s good to have in times when one realizes they are stuck on a treadmill,” John’s answer was clear. Who’d have thought a visit to a gym, the week previous, would give him such a great idea on life’s progression.
“Inside the gym an array of workout machines, exercise bikes, which, no matter how fast one pedals on one, never actually takes him any particular place. I watched guys go like gutsy gazelles on running machines and end up going nowhere.”
A vivid recollection of previous experiences down that dead end track silently panicked her, she sat, knees hugged up to her chest, and stared wide eyed into space, no longer really taking in the beautiful view before her.
“Fate went to so much trouble to destroy me,” she blurted out before she was able to stop her angry words.
“You said faith takes you places, not fate, honey,” he’d mentioned sharply.
“Oh!” was all she could muster.
“It was not my intention to alarm you,” he said, realizing a little too late that what he had said trigid memory recall and the harsher emotions that were stored there. “But do you realize, my sweet, the injury was not permanent. It is true, you were chased by an ugly monster into a strange room that housed one of these fitness devices. Perhaps at the time, you had prematurely thought, it would take you to a safer place. But when you jumped onto the treadmill you soon realized you were stuck,” John’s explanation jolted her into an acquaintance with herself as a defenseless youngster – digging up bad feelings she could not welcome. He could see this through the looking-glass to her soul. He could sense the uneasiness she harboured deep within her as her body shivered and her eyes leaked tears.
“Okay, okay, enough thoughtless contemplation. Thankfully things are not as bad today. It only seems that way sometimes. You’ll get what you want – a hassle free future – I shall get it for you. Now pour all your energy and concentration on us as a duo. My prediction is you will make progress day by glorious day. Remember it’s no fun not to exercise your faith in the real things of life and the lasting things of life,” he shared. She followed his eyes as he looked downward, then at her, discovering yet another rock solid erection jutting out from his zipped trousers.
She ripped open his zip, a fresh fast kiss she placed upon the tip, a fresh fast ejaculation into her hand caused her to feel toasty inside her cool cave.
The day of rest found them once again in the Chapel Of Love.
Eunice and Peter had been staying with their son, his wife, and the new arrivals until settled.
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A message about man’s humanity to man was received from John’s father.
LisaAnn had decided to attend the service wearing a figure hugging pure white stretch satin frock that revealed a slight cleavage resting above a horizontal straight cut upper bodice and peel back off the shoulder short sleeves with gathered cuffs. Around her pretty neck lay a necklace of silver lace, diamonds and pearls with matching dangling clip on earrings, white lace and satin parasol, white satin clutch bag and a pair of silver backless medium-heeled strappy sandals. A black and white pin-striped suit with white shirt and grey and white checked tie and white soft shoes, her husband wore. Little Lisa-Marie dressed in a cowl necked black and white diagonally striped Charlie Brown crepe dress with red rose twins splotched here and there kept her busy rubbing the feely fabric between her sweet little fingers. Her younger brother, only by three short minutes, wore a tiny suit similar to his father’s, another of Vaardii’s fine creations.
As they sat in the front row, the glistening sun peeped through the open stained glass side panel capturing LisaAnn’s copper highlights around the front of her head, it gave her a fresh new look, her well-shaped hair style, from being loosely swept back into a bun, also boasted a string of tight ringlets below. Whenever she attended the Sunday service John placed the rose garland upon her pretty head, in full view of onlookers. The delicate piece of jewellery brightened up her whole face, the added touch of John crowning her, made her feel doubly pampered.
LisaAnn feeding twins with John looking on
Chapter Two
Gorgeous wildflower arrangements by the Lamb Island ladies beautified the Chapel Of Love conveying a special message of faith, hope and love. Saddened hearts became gladdened hearts. Just near the church door, on opposite sides of the arched bridge on square tiles stood a shimmering topaz tall square pot 193cms in height containing shimmering bright pink crucifix orchids, it added a homely touch to their property. Underneath the bridge thrived a water-garden with stone carvings of Jesus, Mary and family members perched upon flat rocks with brightly coloured water lilies, miniature fountains and small trickling waterfalls.
Willy-Wagtails and Blue Jays dipped and sipped at the fresh water. Rachel would often sit on the bridge and dangle her bare feet in the cool water, chatting to what she termed “my little friends”, feeling their stone cold faces and leaping on the edge of the rocks and splashing in the shallow pool dressed in her Sunday best, much to the amusement of her father Josef, who let her have her fun.
Quality teak chairs were bolted to the polished thornwood timber floor of three colours – flecked gold, flowering flush blush and reddish-brown rust. Cream, Persian purple and navy blue sateen cushions featuring cheeky cherubs blended into a rich elegant jacquard design rested securely with matching ties on the seats and the backs of teak which purely enticed holiness in the house of their beloved family God where no sign of betrayal thrived.
After the service Josef and Ann-Marie hurried towards the cottage kitchen to collect an assortment of light snacks. Not only did the aroma of freshly baked olive bread turn them on, the shape of the two baguettes overpowered the hot-blooded pair into a touch-up.
Smack dab in the middle of the passion of splendour, appeared their minister.
“Pete, what’s up?”
“Nothing, but something appears to be up with you Josef.”
“We were just getting the olive bread out of the oven ready to slice,” said Ann-Marie lightly.
Peter’s look of distrust urged him to strongly suggest trying a sample of Eunice’s chilled lemon sponge bars to cool off their boiling blood.
“At this point I really have only two words, Be Careful!”
Like over-excited and under-disciplined high-schoolies, they replied, “Yes Sir, we will.”
Peter laughed mischievously as he assisted with the food, carrying the plates back to the Chapel.
“How does that stress reliever go again brother Peter?” LisaAnn asked happily, “It’s quite amazing.”
“On a steamy hot summer’s day it’s doubtful that there is any message more refreshing than father’s New Year’s vintage reflection of goodwill,” returned John as he lifted his glass of peach passion to the circle of morning goodwill gatherers.
Awestruck and teary-eyed, his dad fought back melancholia as he looked over his shoulder at his wife who was doing the same and accurately evaluated with godly love: “Perform favourable acts of kindness for another being as though you were that other being and ask not one question. One favour deserves another favour. The planet would soon be emphatically swamped with confidence, rich benevolence and love wonderful love if each individual were to sunny up all of humanity with the radiance of heartiness.”
The day they befriended Mavis Fairweather just after her husband’s funeral, with not a soul who cared, was hope found. She favoured the favour more than her favourite flavour – fudge ripple.
She is now ever so grateful that her new friends have lead her to the man she says she’s been waiting for all her life, Vaardii, who just happens to be the most creative dress designer the world has ever seen.
At eleven forty-five a.m., everyone returned to the cottage by the bay, John giving Josef a pair of his cutoff jeans. Soon, their shirts were off, Josef sporting that deep tan plus his slightly shaggy crop of sandy blonde hair amazingly turned him from a heavenly cherub into a typical beach bum, who’s major indulgence was cruising the bay by day and chasing chics by night. His splendid physique making him the best at both hobbys.
John and Josef gave each other a rival grin, Josef bragging that there is not a male who can claim to be as good. John hitting back with raving humour as he picked up the movie camera saying, “A competitor for love, favour and success, I suppose you are all wondering what I’ll name my next film -you guessed right AS THE RIVALS DUEL.”
The perfumed bay of tranquillity blessed eager tourists as they boated along in obscure style passed the breathtakingly beautiful Moreton Bay Islands that rise gently from its indigo waters, the complete picture from an aerial view looking like a jewel-framed mirror, enticing young lovers to swoon gypsy style.
Water, once again sprinkled down LisaAnn’s pretty face as she eyed the watery wonderland around her. Reluctant to talk it over with her partner, her Doctor, she jostled the troubled emotions to a little storage box in her mind, to deal with later, then opted for a more physical approach via sexual healing.
The afternoon brought with it some family squabbles which was most unusual. She was feeling stressed, tired and a little low, John reminded her, on the quiet, that making love to him is a vital part of a healthy relationship. He read her mind like a book.
The birth of the twins was just the beginning of a brand new chapter of her life.
“A lifestyle of love and lovemaking is essential when it comes to helping you make the transition from womanhood to motherhood,” he affectionately told her.
That evening she threw her knickers on the table and trusted him explicitly. Exploding into laughter at his wild version of ‘The Shrimp Boats Are A’comin’ stress was tossed out the window with her bra, the moment he set up the movie camera. She played up to the camera, almost making love to it instead, for she felt totally at ease with the vital fact that the man she married was a man who could keep it in his pants and guard it with his life when in the presence of other women.
Although keen-set to reach the climax, they decided to savour every spunky minute. She began by squelching and squeezing his squeegee, ever so happy and comfortable God made it with rubber edges not thistly bristles. His soft balls were the size and texture of squash balls, she longed to taste his lemon squash. At first, he casually fought off her spurious spurn then entered, gradually increasing the pace. He wanted, like her, to take his time, but in all the excitement to soar, he could only go at high speed for such a short time. A sprint… A burst…. A jet, only to release the contents until his heart burst in a ball burst then his sides burst with an outbreak of his ra
ucous laughter, the love suddenly dying under a surge of giddy, heartfelt emotion. “What a package!” she screamed as she gazed intently at her instructor’s bulging crotch. “What a workout!” Then all of a sudden his stiff penis collapsed.
He kissed and kissed her pink pouting lips basking in the warmth of her love. Smoothing the tangled locks of her lengthy hair he rose one last time, his head spinning, his penis spewing into her salivating mouth.
“Give me a little fuckle Daddy,” was her desperate request.
“A sweet little fuckle for a sweet little lady,” he giggled. For four minutes he massaged her little penis with his oversized cap of iron, his cylinder swelling with each sexy swipe, to the beat of an idyll of fantasy.
“The lap of luxury,” she reminded him as she straddled his large lap.
“The lap of luxury,” he softly repeated. “Our secret, possum.”
A row of kookaburras perched themselves on the balustrade out on the back patio, half-laughing and shaking their heads one minute and nodding the next, when asked by Eunice, would they appreciate a handful of ground beef.
Before too long the rest of the clan gathered around the outdoor table amused at the sight of seven feeding fat birds known well as the kings and queens of wildlife.
Midsummer dreams brought with them vertiginous enticements to hunt hefty three hundred-pound Aussie male prey, bare. Strictly a subsistence hunter, LisaAnn was favoured most desirable sportswoman by Russell, Macleay and Karragarra Island residents. They adored her sexy figure, re-naming her water-babe.
In real life, there were days when LisaAnn would jump on a water-taxi dressed in a light and colourful throw over barely covering her bikini bottoms and a pair of summer flip-flops and travel the short distance to a neighbouring island for a swim and sometimes a fish, alone. This was her time to herself.
On the porch, John noticed Josef, at times, checking his wife out from the corner of his eye, up and down her physicals he searched intently, then, of all things, yawned a wide yawn. God only knows what was on his mind, could it be…bed?