Right now he was meant to be having his last hurrah on a different island. One filled with beautiful women who didn’t have “no” in their vocabulary. Women would do what the arranged wives of these men would not. So the men might have memories while having missionary sex the rest of their lives. “Perhaps this is my karma. Stranded on an island with nothing but this weird fruit to eat. To drink from streams as a wild animal does. At least I shall die faithful to my Liza.” James had taken to talking to himself in absence of others. But this time a girlish giggle rang out in the forest. “Is someone there?” There had been no women on their ship for obvious reasons. Perchance a native to the island hung about and could act as guide. James felt hope for the first time in days. “Hello?”“Hello!” A playful voice called back.“I could use a bit of help, Madame.”“Madame?” A woman wrinkling her nose appeared before James. She wore nothing but her long dark curls around her breasts. “Is that my. He didn't try to yell back, just nodded a yes. Somehow, they managed to get the bar to come up with two Coronas without glasses and a wedge of lime shoved down the neck of the bottle.And then Suzanne danced, spinning away from him, her bottle describing arcs as she twisted and spun on the floor. Her choice of dress was now obviously deliberate. The lightweight fabric spun out as she twisted, giving the observer a less than subtle view of her tanned thighs. Robert joined her on the dance floor, holding his beer in one hand and her slim waist in the other. Through the next few dance anthems, they clung to each other and gyrated in a simulation of coupling that drew more than one or two admiring glances."Let's go." She whispered closely into his ear.Robert hailed a taxi which took them along the Embankment of the Thames toward her hotel in Knightsbridge."I know it's extra..." She whispered. " ... but I feel really fucking horny and ... well ... it's been a while, since I had a man screw.
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