Grayman's Island

This is the first story in a series that my wife and I call our "Fantasy Series". The events described did not actually occur. They are rather creations crafted around mine and my wife's hottest fantasies, the ones that excite us the most. We hope all of you enjoy them. If you prefer reading about real life adventures, I suggest you examine any of the following stories: Those of interested in reading other stories by RLM can find them at the DARK WANDERER site in the YW series under the following numbers: The Tenth Wedding Anniversary series: YW990 (Our Tenth Wedding Anniversary) YW1008 (Sex Slave Stripper) YW1075 (Paula's Turn) YW1161 (The Party) Other stories can be found at YW975 (The Theater) YW983 (The Shoe Store) YW1179 (Flight to Santiago) YW1380 (Summer in Albuquerque) Please send comments to mblmr@hotmail.com Grayman's Island-Part 1 Chapter 1: The Invitation Ed Cargill had been driving for over two hours. He was becoming very irritated. Even his excitement could not suppress the anxiety. His information was that the warehouse was much closer than it seemed to be. He tried to stare into the darkness ahead to pick out any possible hint that he might be approaching his destination. He cursed silently under his breath. Beads of sweat, which had begun to appear over an hour before, were now dotting his forehead in profusion. For the fourth time in the last thirty minutes, Ed stopped to check the directions that had been given to him over the phone. The events that had set him off down this lonely and apparently rather deserted stretch of road had all begun over a month ago in the locker room of his club. He just finished three fast games of racquetball with Darrell, losing all three to the man, as usual. Darrell was jovial as they showered and dressed in the locker room. "I hope I didn't take so much starch out of you that you won't be able to give Marla a good fucking tonight." A leer curled his lip as he chuckled quietly, obviously amused with his own remark. "Shit! You don't need to worry about that. I'm always ready but that cold bitch never is. All she wants to do is eat and watch television. In fact, it's getting so that I don't even want to fuck her anymore. She must be 35 or 40 pounds overweight by now and getting fatter everyday." "Why don't you do something about it?", Darrell inquired. "What? I've tried everything: screaming, begging, clam reasoning. I've even threatened to find another woman. Nothing works. Marla always swears she'll go on a diet, but never does. Just keeps on eating and gaining more weight." There was no response from Darrell. He stared at Ed thoughtfully as he continued to towel off. It was as if he had suddenly lost interest in the conversation. Although Ed made a few more remarks on the subject, Darrell appeared to ignore him. Finally, Ed gave up and the two of them dressed in silence, which Darrell didn't break until were ready to leave. "You know, Ed, I think you and Marla should have dinner with Susan and me tonight. You do remember Susan, don't you?" Ed had met Darrell's wife a couple of times over a year before at company parties, but, truthfully, he remembered very little about her. Slowly, an image formed. She was a pretty woman, but, like Marla, on the heavy side. About the same as his wife, bulging at the seams with fat thighs and big butt. All things considered, she wasn't a particularly attractive woman. Secretly, Ed took a measure of pleasure in this fact. " I can't beat the bastard at racquetball, but at least his wife's as fat and unattractive as mine." Of course, he had no intention of saying any of this to Darrell. "Yes, I remember Susan", Ed replied. It has been quite some time since I've seen her though. I really don't think she would like us dropping in for dinner unexpectedly. I better get on home." Darrell was having none of it. "Forget going home and having Marla fix dinner. I think it's important that the two of you join us for dinner. I'll call Susan before we leave and tell her to expect all of us." With that, Darrell turned and walked away as if the matter were settled. Ed felt he should refuse and go home, but there was something more here than met the eye. He felt the need to accept the invitation so he placed a quick call to his wife telling her to get dressed for dinner with Darrell and Susan. At first, Marla objected, but Ed was insistent so she finally agreed. Later as they were leaving the gym, Darrell asked, "Did Marla give you a hard time? Object and all that crap?" Ed stumbled over his answer and Darrell shook his head. "That's ridiculous. A year from now it won't even occur to Marla to argue and fight with you. You'll just inform her of what the two of you are going to do and that will be the end of it. We'll expect the two of you at 8 PM." Chapter 2: Dinner with Darrell and Susan The drive to Darrell's home was difficult and boring. It was almost 20 miles through traffic most of the way, and Ed was really hungry by the time they arrived. He almost forgot his hunger, however, when he saw Darrell's home. It cost $500,000 if it cost a dime. This guy really knew how to live. The interior of the home was even more elegant than the outside. The floor was inlaid hardwood and the furnishings were beautiful and expensive. Elegant oil paintings decorated the walls; hand-carved figurines were on all end tables, some were very erotic. Ed and Marla were still staring when they heard Darrell inviting them to make themselves comfortable. "Cognac?", Darrell inquired. Ed nodded as did Marla. Darrell pressed a button and Ed heard a chime sound in a distant part of the house. Moments later, Susan entered. "We would all like a snifter of the 30-year old cognac, Susan", Darrell instructed his wife. Ed simply could not believe his eyes! He remembered distinctly that Susan was pretty, but rather plain. Her clothes were very conservative and proper. Her dresses were always worn well below the knee and were sufficiently full to conceal any curves she might possess. The few times he had seen her she had been wearing low-heel shoes or flats. He couldn't remember if she had been wearing makeup or not, but if she had, it was nothing special. He also knew that she was overweight by about 40 pounds. Essentially, she looked and dressed exactly like Marla. The woman who was busy preparing their brandies was nothing like the Susan he remembered! Ed wasn't certain it was even the same woman. This Susan was gorgeous, sexy, sensuous and outstandingly beautiful. Her measurements were nothing short of incredible. Although she couldn't have weighed more than 110 pounds, she must have had at least 38D tits, perhaps even more. This superb chest rapidly fell away to a waist that was no more than 23", probably less. Below her waist, a luscious ass and hips flared out to something Ed estimated to be 36" to 37". Although Susan wasn't tall, she looked it because of her four-inch spike heels. Neither Ed nor Marla could tear their eyes away from Susan even though they both knew that Darrell was watching them stare. Susan's dress was almost obscene. It was a tight sheathe made of some type of soft, clinging material that hugged every curve and crevice of her body. The top was low-cut revealing the upper half of her large globes to within an inch of her nipples, both of which were clearly outlined by the material of the dress. As she moved, her huge breasts swayed and bounced with every step. It seemed impossible, but she wasn't wearing a bra. "How in hell does she get those huge jugs to stand up like that without a bra?", Ed wondered to himself as his eyes traveled downward. Marla eyes were also glued to her hostess. The woman's incredible sensuality and beauty shamed and embarrassed her. She saw that the lower slopes of Susan's breasts were outlined perfectly by the garment as was the crease where her ass jutted out from her thighs. Unlike the dresses she wore and the ones she remembered Susan wearing when she last saw her, the sheathe was short, very short. Although not quite a miniskirt, the hemline was at least four or five inches above her knees. Her legs looked so smooth and tanned, Marla though she must be wearing pantyhose, but there was no indication of a waistband showing through the tight, cl 5956 1.37/512345