Writer's Notes:
'Real Love' is my personal tribute to JammyJimmy's (JJ) story, 'Threads: The Island'. I give JJ credit, because credit is due, for this story and for my own inspiration and entrance into writing. 'Real Love' is actually the first story I wrote, even before 'Tale of Two Teens', my first published story.
As I was writing this story way back when, I was hoping JJ would be the editor. Having been unable to make contact with him, I have been reluctant to release it. Some say JJ has passed away, but I don't know. JJ, if you read this and want this story removed, please contact me. Several readers have relayed to me, both publically and privately, that they would like it released.
Therefore, 'Real Love' is an unauthorized, reimagined rewrite and sequel to JJ's story, 'Threads: The Island'. The general storyline in JJ's story is embedded in this story. Several of the character names have been changed because this is my story. Anyone who has read JJ's story will identify the characters quickly, starting with my main character, Bradley Weber, formerly known as Kyle Watson in JJ's story.
This story is long, but tolerant and filled with several emotions. If you stick with it, you will experience euphoria, happiness, sadness, sorrow and it will make you horny. You'll be disgusted, pissed off, scared and you'll grieve, cry, frown, smile and sometimes, you'll laugh, I hope.
'Real Love' starts off slow, but gains speed with age. Feel free to leave comments about what you like and what you dislike about the story. Feedback is a good thing for those writers who want to know what reader's like and dislike about their stories.
Please don't be mean in the comments because those that put in many hours over a period of several months, and thought into designing and writing these stories don't appreciate it, nor do they deserve it.
I do hope you enjoy the 'Real Love' series. Just don't forget one important detail -- it's fiction. Please do give us 'not so professional' writers a little slack.
JJ, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, fair winds and following seas my friend.
Let the saga of Bradley Weber continue...
MDSW
* * * * *
As morning breaks on the Island, Brad wakes up seconds before his alarm goes off, turns it off quickly and flips on the bedside light. During the night, Kelly rolled off him and is sprawled across the bed, the sheet twisted down around her hips, her tits in full view. Her hair looks like a unorganized spider web covering her face.
He looks at her lying there, admiring her great shape and features, then reminds himself he isn't a fucking creep and gets off the bed. A quick wash in the bathroom wakes him up and he enters the dressing room quietly, removing his top, stained with saliva where Kelly drooled on it as she slept. He slips another one on, then gathers up his phone, pulls the sheet up covering her and heads for the gym.
Brad is feeling pretty pleased with himself for not giving in to temptation last night. At one point he woke up, spooned in behind her and as he moved, he felt her pushing her ass back into him. It would have been all too easy for lust to take over, and it tempted him at the time, but he remembers the state she was in and doesn't want that. If he's going to fuck Kelly, and he really wants to, he wants her awake and alert, not drunk and unconscious.
He frowns and shifts his mind to his coming workout. Brad is surprised to discover he's really looking forward to it, and actually missed it last night. He breaks into a gentle jog on his way down the path, chuckling as he realizes what he's doing.
You're turning yourself into a gym-junkie, Brad! Really?
Julian is waiting, as always, and Brad throws himself into the morning program, working with intensity and Julian encourages him. His arms, shoulders, pecs and stomach all got blasted hard and he notes the weights he's been lifting for the last couple of days has increased.
The burning pain in his muscles is actually pleasing him and Julian nods approvingly as Brad completes his warm down.
When he arrives back at the main house, Debi is sitting downstairs with her laptop, working away and Brad slows to talk to her.
"Morning, Debi. Sleep well?"
"Hi, Brad. Very good, thank you. You?"
"Yeah, not bad," he nods.
"How's Kelly?" she asks. "I haven't seen her that drunk in a while."
"After you left and while I was in the shower last night, she moved to my bed, which is where she is now. She was still asleep when I left, although I can see her having the mother of all hangovers this morning."
"Ugh. You two still okay?"
"Nothing happened Debi. She's having a very good nap, then she'll wake up and try to remember last night."
"Okay, I can cover her duties, if you need some help," she offers, smiling. "Probably best you don't expect too much from her straight away."
"That'll be perfect, Debi, thanks," Brad nods. "I figured she'll need the morning off anyway. Do you happen to know what's on my schedule for today? It's not in my phone yet."
Debi looks down at her laptop, her fingers flickering across the keyboard.
"Here we are. Breakfast at eight with guests, until around half nine and then you need to be available to escort them to either the helipad or the pier."
"Okay," Brad nods, thinking that sounds easy enough.
"Mr Alden has a ten minute slot with you after the guests are gone, or whenever you can fit him in and you've got an appointment with Connor Grant at twelve."
"What's that about?"
She taps at the keyboard again, then looks up, smiling.
"Introduction to Firearms."
Brad's eyes widen.
"Really?"
"Yes, sir."
"It's Brad, Debi," he says quickly, then grins. "Do you think Connor will be sober by then?"
"Sorry, Brad... But despite all appearances to the contrary, he takes his work very seriously," Debi explains. "He's got quite a reputation."
"I think he scored with Christy Turlington last night," Brad says and grins.
"She was stunning yesterday. You know she was one of the super models? Late eighties, early nineties, along with Cindy Crawford, Elle McPherson, Claudia Schiffer."
"Yeah," Brad nods. "She's still got the looks."
"Mr Packard dated her for a few weeks, years ago, according to Kelly," Debi tells him. "Since then, he speaks to her on the phone at least once a month, and if they were ever in the same area at the same time, they'd meet up for lunch. She's been a good friend to him through the years."
"I'll make sure I speak to her before she goes," Brad says.
Debi nods.
"Anything else I can help you with just now, Brad?"
"No, I'm good. I better get myself cleaned up and wake Kelly up. Good morning hangover," he says, grinning.
"Great speech yesterday, Brad. It was awesome, humorous, emotional and personal. Well done. It made me cry like so many others... And good luck with Kelly," she says as he turns to depart.
"Thank you Debi."
Brad heads upstairs and into his suite, finding Kelly exactly as she was when he left, so he goes into the lounge, grabs a couple bottles of cold water and returns to the bedroom. He approaches the bed with reservations as to whether or not she's ready to attack another day, in her condition.
As he looks down at her, Brad has another moment of temptation, a sudden desire to slide the sheet back and admire her naked form, then slide in behind her, but he takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
"Kelly," he says as he shakes her shoulder gently. "Kelly, time to wake up."
Her eyes open and she blinks a few times, then bolts upright, looking around.
Brad chuckles as she figures out where she is.
She thumps back down on the bed and pulls the sheet up over her head. Brad hears a groan and then the sheet slowly slides down, revealing her face. She has one eye open a little, the other closed against the light, and she's licking her lips at the dryness in her mouth.
"What time is it?"
"Nearly seven."
"You're late for your workout," she replies immediately, closing her eyes as the enormity of her hangover strikes. "Oh dear God."
Brad chuckles.
"I've already been for my workout, sorted out my schedule, and you've got an hour until breakfast, so take it easy. How are you feeling?"
