Author's note -- All characters are over 18, as established within the story.
Paradise Obtained: Chapter 6 -- Millie
Georgia and I had completed the long journey from Japan to New Zealand and then on from there to Fiji. Herr Haller was certainly requiring us to clock up the air-miles. Fortunately, Fiji's International Airport is at Nadi on the western side of the main island, Viti Levu, and that was exactly where we needed to be. Nadi is at the heart of Fiji's most important tourist area, and centre for the country's real estate industry.
As with Japan, there are no significant difficulties about foreigners buying property in Fiji, although the process can be slow. However, it seemed that Herr Haller had influence even on the other side of the world, for we were met at the airport by a government official who chatted to us about how the country welcomed foreign investment.
More usefully, he also informed us that we had been booked rooms at a five-star resort hotel on nearby Naisoso Island, and that arrangements had been made with real estate agents to discuss properties I might wish to purchase.
We took some time out to recover from our journey, but pretty soon this wonderful country was working its magic. Scuba diving, white sandy beaches, all year-round tropical weather; if you can't find that relaxing and restoring, then nothing is going to help. And it is all the better for having a beautiful and intelligent young woman to share it with.
Talking about beautiful women, I was, of course, on the lookout for someone to manage whatever property it was that I eventually bought. I assumed that it would be some attractive Melanesian lady or perhaps someone of Indian descent, Nadi being one of the major centres of settlement from the sub-continent. But destiny decided otherwise.
It happened like this. The hotel resort was luxurious and beautiful, but largely filled with middle aged tourists. After a couple of days relaxing, I had decided that it was time we explored the locality. Not far from the hotel was a marina and we found ourselves wandering in that direction.
At the far end of a jetty, standing out among the yachts, was a grey-painted vessel obviously belonging to a navy, the Australian flag giving away which one. It didn't look to be a warship as such, but some sort of survey vessel or transport, although I am no expert. A truck was parked on the jetty and a small party of what were obviously soldiers, with the help of a few sailors from the ship, were carrying boxes down a gangplank and loading them onto the truck.
What was going on I could only guess. In my research on Fiji before our arrival I had read that Australia and New Zealand were becoming increasingly concerned about Chinese influence in the area and had stepped up 'goodwill' operations among the islands. Perhaps this was the delivery of a gift of medical supplies or scientific equipment or something of the sort.
I would have given the entire scene no further thought except that my attention was immediately drawn to one figure amongst those unloading the supplies. There were six soldiers in the party, all dressed in army boots, khaki shorts and socks, wide-brimmed hats against the sun and either a type of khaki vest or bare-chested, for it was a warm and humid day and they were working up a sweat.
Of those six, five were male, typical examples of robust Australian manhood. I noticed that Georgia was eying them with some interest. Naturally, she would never betray me, her true love -- not least because I had programmed her not to. But it didn't stop her looking.
However, my attention was entirely on the sixth, female, soldier. She was dressed as the others, being one of the ones wearing a vest, which I suppose she was obliged to do for the sake of decency. I couldn't help noticing that she wasn't wearing a bra, as the sweat was making her top stick to her body and I could see the outline of the rounded globes of her breasts through the material, her nipples prominent.
She was working every bit as hard as any of the others at lifting and carrying the boxes and yet was still managing to keep up a constant stream of cheerful banter. There was nothing ladylike in its content, her talk being laced with enough swear words to make anyone blush, but was clearly good natured and humorous, and seemed to keeping everyone's spirits up.
She was blonde, with her hair cut short, in her early 20s, quite small, around 5'5" at a guess, and probably not much over 120lb in weight. While obviously not lacking in strength, she was slim and had no bulging muscles on her naked arms. Rather, the impression I gained was of someone who was superbly fit and who knew how to get every bit out of what she had physically. She had a tattoo on her upper right arm. I couldn't make out what it was of at that distance.
The shorts showed off her tanned and shapely legs and it was clear that she had a wonderfully curvaceous figure (36B/25/36, I was able to establish much later). But what was really attractive was her zestful energy. She was tackling every task with enthusiasm and positivity. I had a suspicion that she would be the same in bed and that it would be a lot of fun to find out.
Georgia had noticed where my gaze was directed. "Hmm... she's certainly very good looking, in a robust and athletic sort of way," she commented, "but I should forget her, Matt. Presumably they will all pile into that truck in a minute and you'll never see her again."
I had to concede that Georgia had a point. So, I put the petite blonde amazon out of my mind as best I could and we continued our walk.
*****
We spent the afternoon at one of those glorious white sandy beaches I mentioned earlier, a dip in the sea providing welcome respite from the heat. As the sun set, we made our way back toward the hotel. On the edge of the marina was a bar, perfectly pleasant, albeit down-market compared to the ones at our resort.
Glancing at the bar I caught a glimpse of a uniform. It seemed at least worth a look, so I said to Georgia, "I'm getting bored of the hotel bars. Let's try this place."
We entered and I found I was in luck. There was the little party of Aussie soldiers, plainly off duty and intent on some rest and relaxation, heavily fuelled by alcohol. They were over in one corner of the room, near an open window. I led Georgia to the bar and we claimed a stool each. I ordered drinks for us and I settled down to watch what happened.
The blonde bombshell was sat in the middle of the group, still holding forth, the life and soul of the party. She suddenly leapt to her feet and pointed at a dartboard; it seemed a contest was in the offing. One of the male soldiers went to the bar and asked for darts and soon the group were engaged in competition. Despite giving away at least 4" in height to all her comrades, the blonde won. Her hand-eye coordination was clearly excellent.
Nor did it end there. Within ten minutes she had instituted a new contest -- this time a beer drinking competition. I couldn't imagine how the slender girl could possibly beat her male colleagues at that, but by now I was sure she would give it a good go. I realised that her male companions clearly thought the world of their feisty comrade. I needed to proceed carefully. I didn't want five angry Aussies pounding the crap out of me.
Georgia was also attracting a good deal of male attention, despite the fact she was clearly with me. I wasn't surprised, as the blonde Aussie soldier was the only woman in the place who was anywhere in the same league as my teenage assistant. I noticed that several of the soldiers were amongst those enjoying the view of my PA. It occurred to me that this could be an opportunity to find out more.
Sure enough, the next time one of the male soldiers headed for the bar to get more beers, he chose to position himself close to Georgia, clearly intending to speak to her. He was doubtless disappointed when I intruded myself, although I made it up to him somewhat by offering to buy the beer.
