The Island 01

Chapter 1

Lincoln

Thwump, Thwump, Thwump.

Lincoln Wallace awoke with a start for the fifth time in his seemingly unending trip to an unknown location. He was still unsure as to why he stepped onto the helicopter in the first place, and now the sound of the rotors chopping through the air was reminding him again that he was not dreaming. He looked out of the window and noticed the water still a deep blue. That fact alone, he had learned, told him he was still somewhere over the ocean. Which ocean, he had no idea.

He settled back into his chair and closed his eyes, taken back to the last time he heard the sound of helicopter rotors and it was doing the opposite of calming him into a restful sleep. He stood instead, and went to the back, pouring himself three fingers of scotch and downing it quickly. How in the Hell had he come to this?

The sound of delicate knuckles brought him out of his deep slumber and when he looked at his alarm clock it read 3:45, fifteen minutes before his normal wake up time. It was completely illogical, but for some reason, that fifteen minutes felt more valuable then the entire seven hours he had gotten prior to it. He slid his right hand under his pillow and felt for the butt of his Glock .21, "old habits," he thought to himself. He had never had a reason to sleep with a gun in the six years since leaving the service, but then again, who knocks on a door before four in the morning? Especially in this neighborhood?

He stepped out of bed, not bothering to put pants on. He figured that anyone knocking on a door at this hour expects the person answering not to be dressed, or in his case, completely naked. If they didn't expect it, they damn well deserved it. He moved to the front of the door, silently gliding across the floor, and peeled the electrical tape off of the peep hole. An old trick he learned during special operations, the tape kept from casting a shadow across the door when he moved up to it, giving his position away to the caller.

Peering through, he was even more perplexed. Putting the gun on the table, he opened the door and stood in the frame, in all his naked glory. He watched as she stared at him, starting at his shoulders, which were broad and sculpted, over his tight pectorals, carved abs, and pausing at his penis, hanging between his legs.

"What do you want," he asked snapping her out of it.

"I didn't finish," she answered, barely peeling her eyes away and meeting his.

"I told you I wasn't interested."

"And I told you that you were."

"You never said you were psychic," he said as he moved from the door.

She walked in and looked at the drab apartment. The furniture was sparse, a small chair and table. There was no comfort, no television. Everything he owned looked to be second hand. She couldn't help but let her discontent show on her face.

"Charming," she commented.

"Hey," he said, still standing in the middle of the floor without any clothing. "You visited me."

"Would you put some pants on please," she asked, trying and failing to look away.

"Why," he responded.

"So we can speak about this."

Lincoln sat on the table and made a motion with his hand, asking her to sit.

"I was in bed, you woke me up, and if I make you comfortable you will stay longer. Say what you need to say and get out."

"Fine," she relented and sat in the chair, disturbingly close to the naked man. She hated herself for finding him attractive, then again who the Hell wouldn't she thought. He was in great shape, and he wasn't suffering downstairs either. His hair was cut short with a perfect shape to his head, the kind that meant he probably wouldn't look right with hair, and his face was covered in stubble, the attractive kind. She noticed that her leg was a mere inch from the head of his lengthy member.

"You can begin," he prompted and she realized she was staring again.

"You have the experience and the skills that we need for the position of head of our security. We want you to train our people."

"I don't know what you have been told . . ." he paused waiting for her name.

"Karla."

"Karla, but I work construction. You know those assholes you speed past and scream at because they hold up traffic on the way to work? That is me."

"For the past six years, yes. But before that you held a "special" position inside the special forces, correct?"

"No," he lied. "I was a part of the support division out of Fort Drum." He hadn't had to recite his cover story in so long that he had thought it would be more difficult.

"Mr. Wallace, we know all about it, and we want it in our organization."

"I am happy here," Lincoln responded unconvincingly. "I don't need a job."

"Look," Karla said with a little force. "I am a lawyer, I have done it for long enough that I know when people are lying, even to themselves. You used to do the kind of work that changed lives, that had the possibility to effect millions. Now you jack hammer the streets amidst car horns and expletives."

"That work you speak of," he said standing, and in the meantime bringing his penis to within inches of her face. "It isn't as grand as you think. It takes a little piece of your soul every time. I had to leave while I had a little left."

"OK," she said. "How about this," she stood up with him, not because she was ready to leave, but because his penis being that close to her face was embarrassingly making her mouth water. "Just come and visit the compound, train the second in command to take over. We will pay you thirty thousand dollars for three weeks work."

He thought about it for three solid minutes, the entire time she switched from staring at his body, to staring pointedly at the wall. Finally, he made a decision. He turned and walked into the bedroom and shut the door. She thought for a second that that was her cue to leave, until he reappeared in a t-shirt and jeans.

"You have three weeks."

He heard the door to the lavatory open in the back and Karla appeared refreshed. She was wearing a grey pencil skirt cut just below the knee and a white blouse tucked into it. It was cut low at the top, revealing a generous bust. She was sliding into a matching grey business jacket as she sat down in the seat next to him.

"Wake up, she said. "We are almost there."

"Just a shade under a week too," he responded. He had gone from a Town Car at the curb outside his apartment, to a private jet, to another Town Car, to a boat, to a helicopter, all of which took close to thirty-six hours. "Are we on the other side of the world yet," he asked sarcastically.

"Yes," she responded pointedly without a hint of humor.

He looked out the window and noticed the water turning a lighter blue, signifying the coming land. He stood from the seat and stretched, walked back to the lavatory and relieved himself. When he returned, she beckoned him to the chair and instructed him to put on his seat belt. When he looked out the window, he saw their destination, a lonely island in the middle of the ocean. From his seat, he could see the perimeter covered in white beaches and palm trees, and the middle of it was occupied by a huge mansion and numerous outbuildings.

It looked like paradise, but he couldn't shake the feeling he was having. What does paradise need with his kind of expertise?

Kennedy

"Dammit," she cursed as she picked herself off of the dirt and wiped herself off. She was sick of this. It had been three years and she had been working with the filly for the brunt of it. She had her ready to break and given her temperament, thought she was ready for her to break to ride. But after the fifteenth time landing on her ass, she was pretty sure she was wrong.

"You alright ma'am," Pedro said as he came up to her. Her stable hand was smarter than most, knowing to leave her to her work and not admonish her for it. That was more than she could say for the rest of the people around her.

"That is it for the day," Colin Pernell, her trainer said forcefully. He walked up to the side of the arena and met her as she stepped out.

"I'll get her soon," she said.

"Or she will kill you."

"We aren't having this conversation again."

"We never finished it the first time," Colin said as she began to walk away. He hurried to keep up with her, she walked so fast when she wanted to, her long legs were advantageous that way. "You are going to hurt yourself."

"I have been doing this a long time Colin, I will be fine."

"That is a stubborn way to look at it." He could feel it going down the same path as last time. She was a legend in the sport, having won two gold medals in the last Olympics and putting the United States third in gold medals with fourteen, behind Germany with twenty-three and Sweden with seventeen. What made her a legend was it put them up to fifty-one total medals, putting them most over all. She had more endorsement deals than any other Olympian in history and since her, people actually cared about the sport. "Will you at least consider letting Pedro break her to ride?"

"No," she spun on her heels and met him face to face. She was tired of the people around her treating her like she would break. "This is my horse, I ride her, I show her. When we are in that arena, it isn't you, or Pedro on her, it is me. It is just the two of us and there is a trust, a bond that needs to happen before we can work together as one. Pedro cannot help with that, and even if he could, I wouldn't let him."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving all of the men in the yard watching as she disappeared into the house. They all watched the balcony window with anticipation. This was her favorite part of the day, an opportunity to exhibit herself to the world. She had been this way her entire life, some unquenchable desire to show off her exquisite body to anyone that would watch.

She stepped in front of the window looking over the balcony, and in full view of everyone in the arena, began her show. She started with her hair, pulling her ponytail out and letting it fall over her shoulders. Her long brown hair draped to her mid-back and she threw it to the side, exposing her long neck.

She moved to the hem of her shirt, slowly lifting it over her head and dropping it to the floor. Her stomach was flat and firm, her supple breasts were still hidden by a sports bra. She let her fingers play over the skin below her neck, over her bra, and down her stomach to the button of her breeches. The buttons released themselves and she slid them over her hips, past her tight butt, and down her long and slender legs.

Standing in the window, in nothing but her bra and underwear, all of the men, and some of the women in the arena stared hard at her. She could almost sense the bulges in their pants, the desire to take her spilling over and almost compelling them to break down her door and force themselves on her. The thought of it made her begin to react physically, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her bra.

She decided to free them of their constraints, slipping the straps of her bra over her shoulders and dropping the bra down her chest, leaving it wrapped tightly around her stomach. Her breasts stood perfectly, perked with nipples hard enough to cut glass, being gazed at by God knew how many people. She felt herself burning between her legs. The thought of them all staring at her perfect tits and committing the sight to memory so they could masturbate later drove her to the brink.

It was time, she couldn't wait any longer. Her panties were soaked and she needed the release. She hooked her thumbs into the band of her underwear and pulled them hard to the floor. She kicked her foot and sent them flying across the floor to the wall. Her body was aching to be touched, and since she was alone in the room, she was the only one that could do it.

The people down in the arena were about to get one Hell of a show.

Her hand clenched, the nails digging into the paint and scratching it, leaving marks. She stood leaning against it, supported only by her left hand. Her perfect and tight ass was pointed out the window, her legs spread open and up on her tip toes. The view the others in the arena had was more than they had ever had before.

She usually teased them with only a show of getting undressed and walking naked to the shower. Today, there was no stopping her, her hands found her round breasts, gently pinching and tugging on her erect nipples. Then, she had slowly traced a line down her firm stomach, over her belly button, until she found her dripping pussy. She couldn't remember a time when she had been so wet, so wanting. She needed the eyes of everyone down in the arena to be on her, to need her. She turned, placed her hand on the wall, and pushed her ass outward. Everyone could see her cheeks spread, her anus and pussy giving them a choice to stare at. Her right finger found her clit, and she had begun to play.

Three minutes later, she felt the nails digging into the paint from her left hand, and the fingers of her right hand digging deep into her pussy. She felt it welling up inside of her as she desperately pushed deeper, then pulled her fingers out, dragging them across her G-spot. She flicked her thumb across her clit at the same time and it was too much for her. She almost broke her fingers clinching her muscles so tightly, she felt her juices flow forth as she came hard, soaking her fingers and hearing herself soak the living room floor. She let out a scream as she crumpled to the floor, her eyes closing and her mind drifting off into pure ecstasy.

Ten minutes passed and she heard a knock on the door. She was just stepping out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. When she answered, there was a tall, brunette woman, resembling her in a lot of ways, her height, thin but muscular frame, and long brown hair being the most obvious, stood staring. She was dressed in a black business suit, her legs showing from the knee down, and her blouse open only one button. She was very modest, Kennedy thought, more modest than she in any case.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, Kennedy," she responded. "I hope so, my name is Karla, can we speak for a moment?" Kennedy answered with a nod and moved to the side, motioning for her to enter. As she did, Karla noticed the towel begin to slip ever so slightly around her chest. Kennedy did nothing to tighten it, allowing for only the edge of her aureola to become visible. Karla would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't staring again. "Would you like to get dressed so we can have a conversation?"

She nodded again and gestured with her hand, motioning for Karla to follow her. She made her way through the small apartment and into a back room. Karla followed and found herself standing in a bedroom. Kennedy moved about the room without hesitation. She moved to a clothes hamper in the corner and Karla almost fell over when the towel fell from her, exposing her back and one of the most perfect asses she had ever laid eyes upon.

Her mind drifted back to ten minutes prior when she listened to the cries of ecstasy drift through the door and find her standing on the other side. The sound caught her off guard, with a profound effect she didn't see coming. She looked left, at the empty entryway to the apartment, then looked right at the empty drive, the walls closing her off from the eyes of everyone in the arena. She moved closer to the door and listened as she heard Kennedy finger herself to an explosive orgasm.

Without realizing, her hand had drifted to the hem of her skirt and slid up her leg, She could feel the heat of her pussy, radiating the desire she was feeling. She couldn't remember how long it had been, but she hadn't been touched in too long. She slipped her fingertips under the edge of her panties, which was soaking wet, and found her clit, hard and throbbing. She listened to the girl behind the door cum hard, and her mind drifted to Lincoln Wallace, and his gorgeous cock. She imagined the length of it sliding across her tongue and and the thick head tickling the back of her throat. Before she knew it, she was holding onto the doorknob with her left hand while her right finger vibrated over her clit. She bit her lip to keep from calling out as she came in the hallway.

Now, she stood in the bedroom of the same woman and watched as she pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail while the light from the window behind her silhouetted her perfect body. She turned to face Karla and her breasted pointed straight at her. Karla tried and failed to peel her eyes away from the perfect nipples, the size of Tic-Tacs, pointing directly at her, as if choosing her to suck on them. Her mouth began to salivate and she swallowed nervously as Kennedy finally spoke for the first time.

"So . . .?"

"I'm sorry," Karla asked, "What was that?"

"I don't know," Kennedy responded. "You came to me, remember?" Karla realized that both of her recruiting targets had made it a point that it was her that initiated visits in their homes. She tried to gather herself but Kennedy spoke again to quickly. "Am I making you uncomfortable? I can get dressed if it bothers you."

"No," Karla said, trying and failing to not sound like she desperately wanted to continue staring at her amazing body, especially now that she was getting a view of her perfectly manicured mound. Her mouth began to water again. "I can handle it." She reached her right hand out. "My name is Karla."

"Kennedy," she responded. She wondered what this Karla woman would think of the fact that the fingers wrapped around her hand were only moments ago buried deep into her pussy and were covered in her cum. She was also unaware that Karla was thinking the same thing.

"I work for a company that wants to hire you for your training services," Karla said, regaining her composure and focusing.

"I am not really hire-able as a trainer anymore. I am training my own horse and I have to focus on the Olympics again."

"I noticed that you were training your own horse, your trainer isn't exactly excited about that."

"He is worried that, if I get hurt, I will lose the fifteen million in sponsorship dollars."

"What if I told you I could remedy that problem?" Karla delivered the line as if she was in a boardroom again. Before she had taken this job, she had been the CEO of a reputable Fortune 500 company and closed more deals than she could remember.

Kennedy saw the change in her demeanor. She could sense her pouring her eyes over every inch of her naked body and it was, of course, turning her on. But, she was in business mode now, so she got up and began to get dressed.

Karla watched as she stood up and grabbed a pair of boy-short underwear out of the dresser. She bent over, facing away from her, to slide them on. Karla got an unimpeded view of her pussy, the swollen pink lips and soft nub at the peak, she also noticed that they were glistening, Kennedy was wet. What she didn't notice, was the knowing grin on Kennedy's face.

"What if I said that we would pay you thirty thousand dollars over the next three weeks to train two of our horses? They are both Olympic level horses and just need a little work from someone that knows what they are doing. Plus, you can keep one as part of your fee."

"And if I get hurt?"

"My company would pay for whatever endorsements you might lose as a result."

Karla watched as she slid a basic black bra over her supple breasts, matching her boy-shorts. She watched as Kennedy continued to get dressed and think about her offer. She resisted two urges, on the business side, she resisted pushing too hard, knowing that she was a very determined and headstrong person. And on the personal side, she deflated a little with each piece of clothing she covered her body with.

For Kennedy, the money didn't matter. All she had wanted was the freedom she had when she started with horses when she was ten years old. The offer that this woman, this very attractive woman, was going to giver her that, and without any risk whatsoever. She would be a fool to turn in down. On the plus side, she will get three weeks to let this woman, and most likely many more watch her fuck herself. She turned to face Karla after she was completely dressed and looked her in the eyes.