Lap of Luxury Read online

  In danger of losing her, John quickly mentioned, “I’m a happily married man, Josef and, as equally, a contented new father.”

  “I’m just sitting casually with my babe,” Josef replied, his arm creeping around the waist of Ann-Marie who possessed a lasting look of deep satisfaction.

  “It’s just an innocent flirt for amusement, don’t take it to heart,” his father explained quietly in his son’s ear.

  But little did most know, Josef in past months, had followed her in his tinny, tying it up behind the mangroves and spying, like the paparazzi, with his binoculars, LisaAnn butt naked on the golden sands.

  There must be some private motive behind her desire to play up to his wandering eyes now, a worrying threat, thought John.

  “Barometer threatens a storm,” broke Pastor Amos.

  “And that’s not all.” John’s voice was sharp, he was unamused at the signals the offsider was sending his woman, and promptly shoved off.

  Josef watched nervously as John hung his hat on one of the large, magnificent antlers of an Alaskan Moose head James and himself had hunted in times long ago. “A subtle threat for a subtle threat,” huffed John, as frightened bears often do, “I won’t give old Joe the chance to steal my girl away from me,” he muttered to himself.

  LisaAnn knew John had everything, a fine mind, a superb personality, an amiable face and poise. But she couldn’t quite see these same rich qualities in Josef or in any other man, in fact. Local men loved to see her lying all alone on their beach, it gave them valuable opportunities to chat her up and get to know her better.

  When she watched the ebb and flow of the tiny waves onto the shore, men wondered why, had she been emotionally bruised by a deep crises or crushed by the fellow she idolized? They itched to talk it over with her, but, quite often, she’d push them out of the picture as she did not want to lose her special John.

  He took her by the hand and led her inside, lightly warning her to watch herself in front of the other beasts and that she was definitely his beauty.

  “A wise woman trusts her man, and a lady as excellent as you should be cautious and should be protected from large dark grizzly bears that roam and chase baby dear,” advised her Joey.

  The eye of the tiger forever gazed at his beloved catch. The reasons were obvious, LisaAnn was a stunner and John was never far away at any time of day.

  Lamb Island, watery sanctuary, so fresh and juicy, luxuriant yet remote, was a top woodland spot, masked with character, lavished with succulence all year round. It really was her dearest dream come true to have and to hold, where not even death could separate them, a spiritual romance as well as a physical romance.

  “It is absolutely wonderful,” LisaAnn told John, and having him, set amongst the natural beauty of the island scene, turned on her heart-lantern, lighting up the love-path ahead of them, with all the excitement of a busty cabaret in the world’s most glamorous setting.

  They started out as strangers and soon became best friends. Whilst LisaAnn was recuperating from a serious bout of Melancholia it was Doctor John Wright who dashed to her side to help nurse her back to health.

  “So far this marriage has been one big blissful fairytale with not even a hint of jealousy or meanness and let us keep it that way my darling,” John’s sweet talk was deep and sincere, she thought afterwards.

  He allowed her to follow her career, for it was his career too. From the very beginning he knew her tender name her every need, it made him proud to join her to himself in holy matrimony a little while later.

  She saw most things through his eyes, a bright and cheerful world a shelter from the storm.

  They both decided to relax and enjoy themselves in the company of friends and family so dear, on the last day of their summer holiday.

  Because she was able to talk to him about all things it was as if she never had had a problem. He became her knight in shining armour, all hers. He held her in his arms, lost in her love he found her, his forevermore.

  “Your uncle should be due back from overseas soon LisaAnn?” John asked her as the babies squirmed at the sound of his baby-voice as he was lifting them out of their cribs.

  She stood by one of the cribs in their nursery, and removed the damp sheets answering with a warm smile, “Oh yes, he’s due in on the seven o’clock flight in the morning darling.”

  The babies had a little cry, their mother and father had a little cry just as they did the moment they first saw them. “It’s about feeding time, baby girl,” John informed LisaAnn.

  “I let them have as much as they want when they want,” the little pair suckled vigorously for a full thirty-five minutes each side as their father watched over.

  LisaAnn gained a great reward of pleasure and enjoyment out of motherhood right from their birth.

  Now eight weeks old and perfect in every way, a double blessing born out of a passionate love escapade, had given LisaAnn and John a sense of escapism.

  The little ones drifted off again in the late afternoon and placed back in the nursery, their parents taking a nap of refreshment at the very same time.

  When suddenly… the monitor Joey-John was wearing on his chest sounded an alarm. John and LisaAnn awoke immediately racing into the nursery calling for Peter and Eunice on the way. He had stopped breathing, LisaAnn screamed then fainted. John picked up his boy gasping, “My heavens!” He felt his pulse racing. “Mom what should I do?”

  Calmly, John’s mother took the tiny baby from him and shook him, waking him up.

  “I was just about to resuscitate him, but baby boy started breathing normally again. You made me nervous when you began shaking him, I was wondering what the heavens you were doing Mom?”

  “I’m sorry to alarm you John, and I’m equally sorry to wake you darling baby,” Eunice told them both, tears of joy streaming down amongst them all.

  Peter rubbed his grandson’s tummy until he fell asleep again the baby closing his little fist around his grandpa’s long finger. “It seems as if he is reaching out for security and fortitude,” said Peter, urging John to attend to his wife.

  “He needed us,” John added, bringing LisaAnn back, explaining how his mother saved her baby’s life, she thanked Eunice over and over.

  Humidity at 85% at four o’clock in the afternoon the family decided to cool off in the chilly waters of Seahorse Bay. They left Lamb Island, the tiny water wonderland, and skimmed across rippling seas on the re-trimmed yacht. The soft fabric of the sails aerodynamically yielded to the force of the wind. “Sitting on a docile yacht is like wafting on a quiet pool,” said John anchoring Mister Right just outside a waveless pool. Perpendicular boulders formed a ring around the smooth water, untroubled by storm.

  “Aah, an even surface free from projections, indentations and roughness,” LisaAnn turned, a warm colour from her inner glow making her face shine as she met John’s warm gaze.

  “In other words lumpless hey LisaAnn,” he returned with cool confidence, the side-walls of his mouth puffing from his cheeky grin.

  “Kick off your shoes and we’ll go for a swim in the lumpless water,” her sexy suggestion causing his head to spin.

  “Pete and I will nurse the twins while you guys go for a swim,” Eunice said gently.

  Josef’s eyes foraged over LisaAnn’s delectable torso then a cunning sparkle in his eyes brightened his witless character when she sauntered towards him, throwing off her satin wrapper on the way and shaking her wobbly boobs in his face to stir him.

  Until now LisaAnn had John, and Josef for a daydream. Since Ann-Marie snuck in on the scene, she felt the basic relationship with the latter become a little threatened. A little fancy footwork, she secretly wished, might budge the tall luscious model.

  To make things worse she caught John sneaking a peek at Ann-Marie’s perfect butt. Butterflies wrestled in her stomach, she believed Ann-Marie was beginning to take over and make a nuisance of herself by just being herself, but in possession of a less curvilinear body than hers.
<
br />   The soaring flint stones cut a protective high wall around the tranquil rock pool casting spooky shadows over the water. Between a pair of boulders there was a scant cleft. Off came their coarse cloth runomoks. LisaAnn climbed off the yacht and squeezed through the narrow opening and hid behind one of the boulders.

  “Daddy’s gonna find his little baby,” John babbled, hazardly advancing with heedfulness. His glitter print oarsome string bikini showing off his good-looking hips, thighs and mouthwateringly devine arse.

  He discovered his chic cowering abaft a huge flint stick on a sun-warmed stone completely muzzy and bawling at the perception of her father’s ghost. She loudly described his figure to be like a surrealistic Giacometti’s sculpture appearing in the distance.

  “What does his face look like to you?” asked John sympathetically.

  “Drear.”

  His eyes dropped to her greater southern region, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to his strong chest.

  “Do you think his spirit may be pernicious?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you realize it’s pure superstition, my sweet lady?”

  “I don’t really think it is, he has certain powers of destruction. I can hear him and I can see him, he’s full of dangerous threats.” She backed away from his embrace and tried to climb the wall in an effort to escape the torment. “I thought you assured me the Melancholia and bad illusions wouldn’t return whilst taking the St. John’s Syrup. It’s not working.”

  The last ray of afternoon sunshine streamed through the apertures, the rough surfaces of the rocks catching and reflecting the light in a lively way.

  It took John a whole hour to convince LisaAnn that a combination of poor flickering sunlight, the shadows of the boulders, and the sparkling flint stone led her to believe she had seen her father’s ghost. Still, she believed that some evil caused the ghost to dwell not far from where her father’s motorbike crashed.

  “He came to right a wrong,” she added lastly then no more information was relayed. No matter how much her husband questioned, no explanation was given.

  He lifted her over his shoulder and carried her to the yacht giving her an extra dose of the healing herb. Within twenty minutes she was in touch with reality again, but refused to stay at the flint stone room.

  He hid her hands in his, begging, “Please stay it’s a beautiful spot,” he persisted. “I won’t ask any more questions.”

  “Alright but stay close to me John,” her lips purled in the superficial appearance of seriousness.

  Peter encouraged her to not allow the ghostly presence she was convinced she saw to darken her sun. “We can perform our tasks easily all day then in the last hour before the sun goes down we grow weary casting spooky shadows but before we go to sleep God answers our prayers rewarding us with emblems of victory. God protects all.”

  This brilliant idea Peter came up with chased the haunting ghost away and LisaAnn was able to enjoy a splash in the colourless liquid and a laze on nature’s mantelpiece.

  “In the immortal words of King Solomon ‘O fairest among women. Ah, you are beautiful, my love, ah, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves,” John recited. Josef completed the poem of celebration, “Ah, you are beautiful, John’s beloved, truly lovely.”

  “Heroic love at its finest,” mentioned Ann-Marie sarcastically.

  An economical yet nutritious and delicious pot of Chickpea and Pasta Soup was on the boil the moment they stepped foot on the doorstep, the scent of steaming fresh rosemary, garlic and bacon wafting out of the windows. Pastor Amos and Rachel bragged how the dish cost .95cents per person and contained only 14g of fat per serve.

  “Dollar dining!” LisaAnn shouted gobbling up the soup.

  The mistral penguin kettle whistled, the Twinning’s Afternoon Tea poured, Peter commenting how its taste is as refreshing as a waterfall.

  Rachel blobbed copious amounts of Cointreau hard sauce onto mini light steamed puddings for the adults while she nibbled on creamy trufflina filled chocolates.

  An early evening breeze blew out the sun and drew the shining moon from the shadows of the semi-darkness.

  After a quick feed the twins were put to bed and LisaAnn with John, hand in hand ran to the Chapel Of Love. John had a little booklet called The Pinnacle of Lovemaking shoved down the front of his bathers. They took a seat in the back row. Nobody knew they were there.

  “Let’s do a little heavy reading you gorgeous young thing, reach into my swimmers,” John beckoned.

  Her sweet fingers carefully peeled the stretch fabric back from his bulging bag and gently freed the little book from its little nook. LisaAnn had brought with her a bottle of Pink Champagne and one fluted and frosted crystal glass. After sharing a few glasses, the two engaged in a daring enterprise of horny intimacy. “We are due for more sex,” he whispered in her burning ears, licking her lobes and gently kissing the crests.

  Dressed in her itsy-bitsy-in-betweenies gave John the hint she wanted more than just a cosy nightcap. There wasn’t a door on the entrance to the Chapel so the cry of the Curlews was heard loud and clear. “They must be making love My Love,” he said. “I think the female cries out the minute they both climax,” she educated him.

  “Sounds perfect,” he sang in return.

  Within minutes he had slipped her bikini-bottoms down around her ankles, she kicked them off with such force they flew out of the doorway onto the patch of lawn just before the arched bridge.

  Her long dark hair he’d brushed around her blade bones and began smooching her neck as he unsoundly unknotted her bikini bra and slipped it down the back of his togs just above his sexy crack, sending shivers up his spine.

  He opened the book and read softly to her the words, “Lilly, the marketplace is empty, your melting pot is simmering, let me turn up the heat, you are such a wholesome dish. On this, our day in the sun, on an open portico, spread your legs for some fun we still have a half hour before the car race. Between corn planting and haying please fill in this farmer’s time with your sexticy.”

  His tongue wriggled up and down each rockmelon-shaped breast, her cherry shaped nipples turned honeymoon pink as they tingled with delectation. LisaAnn’s head jolted to the left as she squirted from her hot faucet, he turned her to face him and raised her off the bench carrying her to the baptistery, uninterruptedly cosseting in caressing her boosy with one hand while the other flitted down to the inside of her perspiring thigh stopping outside the entrance to her secret cave.

  “My entire body is aching continuously with sensuous enjoyment, keep it up baby,” she whispered.

  It came up.

  At last he inclined from the vertical and made sudden involuntary movements due to surprise, in a run with his tongue around her belly lowering to her pussy. Sensation was aroused as fluid trickled down the backs of her thighs. “I think I’m about to explode with a bang,” he dribbled.

  His penis pulsated with abnormal force grabbing it he thrashed her clit with the tip and twitched it with his digit.

  “It feels all gooey, it’s driving me crazy, I’m about to come,” he gurgled with a degree of depth in his voice. She shoved the front of his head from forehead to chin as forcibly as possible into her percolating, oh so wet and overflowing amity cup. He said it tasted like a café-latte because of the strong coffee flavoured lolly she began sucking on.

  She threw her back into a curve shaped like a vaulted passage and violently lunged upwards and downwards in rhythm with her partner’s tongue and with a spasm of shivering culminated with an explosion of screeching laughter.

  For sixty seconds John restrained her, then tugged her closer to him, sliding his cobra up and down her muddy spunsilk cocoon, moaning and groaning and heavily breathing. She tugged at his slug, teasing and tormenting for a little while, before conducting the way inside her tunnel of love. They had come together their bodies trembling with utter delight.

  They lay weary in each other’s arms for twenty minutes more,
filled up the baptistery with lukewarm water and washed away the slime, emptied the tub and stayed until six in the morning, having had the best night’s sleep ever, when they awoke to a rap on the wall by Peter, who intended going for an early morning walk, when he stumbled across the part bikini. He stood staring, holding the knickers at arms length.

  “What are you pair doing?” he asked painfully.

  “Performing a favourable act of kindness to an aching soul papa,” John answered skittishly.

  “But in the baptistery?” he challenged.

  The word says, “In retrospect thy foes are bound and tied, the angels of Heaven take your side, and God reigns,” John enlightened his theology pupil as he pulled up his daks and jumped out soaking wet taking the bikini bottom from his father’s hand he dressed her then she got out of the baptistery.

  “More teenagers! Now scat the pair of you before I bible bash you both.”

  The other members of the family came racing in to cheer them on. Josef wound a handle by the entrance of the chapel that twisted the cedar roof open. Together both Doctors danced under the passing clouds, capturing the optimistic spirit of Lamb Island and its tittering movers and shakers, flocks of Kookaburras, Ibises and Pelicans forming wide V’s as they rode the winds overhead.

  “What’s the occasion for the early rise?” asked Ann-Marie. LisaAnn and John shot each other the cheekiest glance announcing proudly, “A retrospective study on pre-reproductive physiology, weight gain and the endocrine system.”

  “Why don’t you add antler development to that cyclic list and you’ll be just like a couple of bull moose going through puberty blues,” back-answered James out of nowhere.

  “Deer oh deer,” sighed the medico brothers.

  “Welcome to our country once again, we weren’t expecting you guys today,” said John, chuckling.

  “Who would have thought beyond the mountains and the seas lies an island beyond our wildest imagination eccentric and unheard of, with sphinx-like folk filled with giddy bewilderment,” James joked.