Action on Ecstasy Island

Action on Ecstasy Island

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance


Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance


Young guy wins Game Show, the prize being $100,000 and choice of companion to stay on a full-provisioned but uninhabited tropical island. They arrived on the enchanting island and tension between the couple easesand they act romantically. But will they marry; the majority of people following of their daily broadcast film-clips seem to think so.


Young guy wins Game Show, the prize being $100,000 and choice of companion to stay on a full-provisioned but uninhabited tropical island. They arrived on the enchanting island and tension between the couple easesand they act romantically. But will they marry; the majority of people following of their daily broadcast film-clips seem to think so.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Game Show

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 21, 2017

Reads: 1015

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 21, 2017



Chapter 1 

The sleek power boat blazoned with the name Blue Marauder slowed quickly from a 55 mph speedster to a docile aqua-glider as Lincoln Moss cut the twin outboard motors and flipped his sunglasses into his hair, stretching with an exaggerated yawn.


“Buy it dad. It’s built to fly and virtually does. Knock the asking price to $43,000, which I reckon is market value. You’ll then have the fastest boat up at Matai Beach, which is what you want.”

“Do you think that boat yard principal will drop eight grand?”

Lincoln scratched his unshaven jowl, his pale green eyes locked on his father’s frowning face, wrinkled by excessive exposure to the sun and open sea environment.

“If they reject your offer, shrug dismissively, nod goodbye and as you reach the showroom door you turn and say loudly that that boat has been sitting in the showroom for six months taking up valuable space; buyers come to them to buy boats for fishing or family cruising and perhaps leisurely water-skiing, not performance boats.”

“Are you sure that would work?”

“I could dad and remember anything is worth a try; granddad always went on about that.”

Ruben Moss called his son two hours later.

“I’m home, hosing down my new baby. Your mother says you exert undue influence on me and I’m reckless with my money and heading for a divorce because all the babes up at the beach will want to ride in my new boat that looks sexy, goes fast and has a good looking older bloke at the controls.”

“Just as you said, as I reached the doorway and said my bit I was called back by the sales manager holding out his hand to shake mine. You’re such a wiz, Lincoln.  Stella has the brain, I have the big dick; you inherited both,” he cackled.

Sipping the best sip – the first – of his long black coffee produced in a machine probably costing half the money of one of the outboard motor on his father’s new boat, Lincoln sat looking at the pretty women hurrying back to their offices after lunch.

Which one was his?

Oh yeah, all women he temporarily corralled admired his brain-power and most admired his very personal possession but then what happens? They soon dumped him. His mum finally nailed it when he bleated his frustration.

“Your problem Lincoln is you don’t know how to talk to women; I should know.”

Stella would know all right. His mum knew everything. But she didn’t tell him what to do about his problem and he didn’t ask. Women are about as useless as tits on a bull, he fumed.

“Good afternoon Sir,” said Miss Nice Tits.

Eying her, Lincoln decided not to ask was she picking him up, because that’s what a guy who doesn’t know how to talk to women would say.

“Good afternoon ma’am. Is it a lovely day for you?”

She didn’t answer the question the rude cow. Instead she pulled out a chair, remarked that he had a strong, confident voice and then asked if she could sit.

She sat before he had time to answer.

“Since you’re sitting you’d better stay; coffee?”

She looked a bit startled but the idea of coffee appealed.

“That’s very kind of you. I’m…”

But Lincoln was no longer in his chair listening. He was halfway to the coffee machine counter and returned with two long blacks.

“How did you know I wanted a long black and no sugar or cream?”

“Because trim young women like you don’t do dairy fat or processed sweeteners.”

“That’s very astute.”

“I tend to end up with trim babes.”

She flushed and giggled.

“You are extremely forthright.”



“I’m ready for the next question. My ‘yes’ reply answered you explicitly.”

“I’m sure it did but left me somewhat dissatisfied.”

Lincoln knew the comment he was about to make would not be appreciated but on the other hand if she were bored it just might switch on her motor.

“It doesn’t take much to dissatisfy you.”

The curtains flicked across her eyes as they usually did with women with whom he usually conversed with unsuccessfully. But she seemed to recover with a frustrated sigh.

Hello, she was about to reveal all, he thought, and his eyes flicked from her tits to her face.

“I’m Shannon Maple, a casting scout for TV-8. We’re running a new game show that’s taking the under-thirties by storm, making it the highest rate program nationally on TV on Fridays at 8.30 prime. Do you like it?”

“Like what?”

“The show, silly,” she laughed.

The hint of eroticism in that tinkle attracted Lincoln’s interest and he wondered about her availability; then saw the wedding ring and he retreated into indifference.

“What’s it called?”

“The name of the show is ‘Ecstasy Island for Two Paradise Game Show’. We are so proud as it’s been rescreened in America, is one of the top shows in California at present and has been taken up to screen by TV stations in fifteen other States.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

Shannon stared at him, apparently waiting for him to confess he was pulling her leg. He then made her focus.

“Why don’t you finish your coffee and walk off and talk to someone more appealing to you?”

Her smile remained and she said firmly, “I haven’t finished with you yet.”

Lincoln laughed and said she needn’t bother – he’d seen her wedding ring.

“What if I were to confess I’m divorced?”

“Well Shannon, if you’re that desperate for a roll in the clover I’d still say you’d be wasting your time; women find me incompatible. Even my mother struggles to relate to me.”

Instead of that declaration turning Shannon off, the comment appeared to excite her.

“Is that the truth?”

Lincoln looked at the appealing face, slightly pixie looking – probably because of her short black hair and a definite narrowing of the chin but the mouth sat generously wide and revealed even and very white teeth. Christ, look at her eyes – they were violet!

His eyes dropped to her tits and the word that came to mind was ‘yummy’.

“Is it true you are a divorcee?”

“It’s almost eight months since I emerged from two years of near-marital hell.”

“Oh, I get it; you emerged tarnished but happily without kiddies?”

The violet eyes blazed.

“That’s mean; how can you be so horrible?”

Lincoln intoned, “I regret to say it’s in my nature. Shannon why are you persisting with me?”

She replied angrily, “Shall we find out?”


“Well, don’t over-exert yourself verbally. Please answer these six questions. If you achieve a pass rate of at least five correct responses, you automatically qualify for an audition.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“After 10 weekly 30-minute shows of six male competitors, the winner in each show advances to the semi-final and the top five competitors from that contest compete again in the final. The winner of the that will spend six days on an uninhabited tropical island with a female of his choice from the three hostesses who appear on each of the show that is screened live.”

“The only requirements for the finalist and chosen hostess is that they stay on that island developing compatibility for the full six days and behave in an exemplary manner at all times. Each afternoon at 5:30 they are contracted to spend no more than five minutes in front of a sentry television camera talking about their life together over the past 24 hours in paradise and commenting about any change in their feelings toward one another and whether any hint of romance is developing.”

“That film clip will beam back to us automatically via satellite to our studios for editing down to two and a half minutes for inclusion in our nightly TV follow-up promo during an advertising break on the evening news on TV stations world-wide who have broadcast our live show, delayed. Subtitling of what is being said in the dominant language of viewers in each country will be on-screen simultaneously.”

Lincoln shrugged and said, “Well I admit having interest but I’m warning you, if I’m the winner and go to that island with one of those babes, she’ll not want to talk to me within just a few hours of being in isolation with me.”

 “Have no fear Mister…Mister…?

“Moss, Lincoln Moss.”

“Oooh that’s a gorgeous name.”

“Yeah, I like it and almost as much as your name, Shannon.”

That comment seemed to score well.

“May I record this test?”

“Why bother?”

“Taking that as a yes, I’ll explain. One of our chosen contestants has pulled out after failing a medical test, indicating need for urgent surgery and I’ve been ordered urgently to find a replacement for him for the re-run of filming of the 10th show, using new sets of questions. I’m activating the recorder.”

“Here we go, what is the capital of Iceland?”


“Correct.  What is the composition of a diamond?”

“If pure, an allotrope more commonly known as concentrated carbon.”

“I think that’s correct – it just says here it’s carbon. What is a sloop?”

“A single-mast sailing vessel rigged fore and aft.”

“Correct. Define the word livery?

“The uniform of a chauffeur or manservant.”

“Excellent reply. What does P.C. stand for?”

“Probably many things but more universally recognizable would be Police Constable and Privy Council or Privy Councillor in Britain, Progressive Conservative in Canada and Politically Correct in many countries and, of course, almost universally, Personal Computer.”

“Well done. Now for the final question, the one we add to cause participants to stumble. Can you correctly spell calceiform – meaning slipper shaped, for example the calceiform lip of certain orchids? I’ll repeat it, calceiform.”


“That’s correct and you are permitted to slightly hesitate. You’ve answered them all correctly. Lincoln, please, please audition for me! If you are accepted, you’ll go on the show and receive $1000 for your appearances and if you make the final that fee increases to $5000 whether or not you win.”

“Okay, here’s my card. Call me when you’re ready. Be seeing you.”

“But Lincoln, I shall be calling you within hours. Five of the weekly shows have been broadcast so far, and it’s urgent that we find and process the replacement as an approved competitor. Don’t you want to know more about preparing for an audition – there’s pretty tough competition to get on this show. I didn’t mention this but if the winner and his chosen partner, or her substitute due to unforeseen circumstances, last out six nights on the uninhabited island and remain compatible, they each receive US$100,000!”

“That sounds good. You know, if the audition doesn’t go well for me because I don’t conform, then tough. I don’t change to perform like a monkey for anyone, least of all TV assholes. You look cute, dress well and speak well and I suppose I’m confident enough that it’s a straight-up quality show.”

“What, haven’t you seen it?”

“I don’t watch TV.”

“Oh God, if they ask you that question, lie Lincoln.”

“Goodbye – may I kiss you?”

“No, certainly not.”

“That’s okay. Nice ass.”

“Lincoln! I must say by your answers to those questions that you must have attended amazing educational institutions.”

“Believe me Shannon, I was home-educated by mom and dad in the days when we lived on our isolated farm. Later we relocated in the city and I trained, apprenticing myself to a highly-regarded engine rebuilder who was also an engine electronics trouble-shooter. I’m off and expect me to hit on you for a date. You are holding my card, bye.”

Shannon stared at the back of the departing enigma.

*  *  *

Back at the studio, Shannon waited almost two hours before the producer of the game show called her into her office.

“Dump it Shannon, you have ten minutes. I’m under pressure.”

“Mrs King, I’ve found him, a dream contestant. He’s handsome, reasonably personable, very masculine…”

“But not very personable?”

“Um yes and no, I mean he doesn’t think much of women – at least conversationally.”

The producer was suddenly taking notice.

Flicking her hair back she said, “Handsome, masculine and doesn’t bother attempting to impress women with words or attempt to be overly nice to them; how fascinating. That’s the recipe for the conflict we need to spark the relationship if he should make it to the island.”

“Um, I think that’s what I’m saying Mrs King.”

“I’m sure it is. Proceed pet.”

Shannon detailed her approach to the guy and described the question and answer session.

Mrs King became riveted.

“Oh my, he possesses a gravelly voice and he snapped through those questions with only the one hesitation, answering all correctly. My thighs are shaking in anticipation. Wheel him in for an audition, pet. I’ll conduct it myself. You assure me no coaching was involved?”

“Definitely not, Mrs King. I complied fully with your high standards.”

“Good girl, run along. What a name, Lincoln Moss!”


Two days later Lincoln arrived for his audition.

Shannon had couriered him a DVD the previous day. On it he found four rounds of the show but no sex which was usual in the DVDs he selected to watch. Nevertheless, in watching it he became aware how the show operated. The compere guy looked gay, the woman in sparkling bra and undies who led the entrants on and off looked and the other two hostesses looked hooker. He was unable to determine whether the shows appeared rigged to ensure that the guy who would emerged the winner to hump one of the hostesses on a crummy island the choice of the game promoters.

The ‘studio’ was a disappointment. Lincoln had expected an aircraft hangar type building but instead it was a small room in Channel 8’s downtown building.

“Do I kiss you?” he asked, as Shannon approached, mincing towards him on very sexy high-heels.

She fractionally hesitated but said smoothly, “No thanks because our relationship is professional.”

“I wasn’t aware I was having a relationship with you,” he said quite loudly.

Shannon looked around wide-eyed, appeared satisfied and turned to him with a finger over her lips in the hush position.

He could see she was splitting herself while remaining straight-faced. At least she had humour and great tits and a great rear. She was scoring points quicker than the contestant would in the show!

“Come, I’ll take you to make-up and then we’ll wait for Mrs King.

“Who’s Mrs King, the queen bee?

“Almost, she’s the producer and she devised the show and found the principal sponsor. She’s the Golden Girl with our executive chiefs at the moment. Advertisers are going crazy to buy slots on the show but all spots were pre-sold. Those on the final show were asked to pay a premium loading once the success of the show was established, and only one company refused but keeps its slot because the Advertiser’s Complaints Authority already has us on three warnings.”

“This outfit sounds immoral.”

“Oh no, it’s how television works.”

They went to make-up.

Lincoln halted in the door-way. Shannon who was following bumped into him and bounced backwards.

“Christ, look at the tits on her,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Lincoln, for God’s sake behave yourself. That’s Mrs Faber, the assistant production director’s wife; you’ll get me fired.”

“Good morning Mrs Faber. This is our prospect for auditioning, Lincoln Moss.”

“My you’re a strapping young man. What do you do for employment?”

“Conduct professional boat tests for boating and recreational magazines and performance test for boat racing syndicates when they and engine-rebuilders or performance tuners are in dispute.”

“That sounds awfully specialized.”

“No more than the stuff you do Mrs Faber.”

“Stuff? Oh well, I think you are recognizing me as an artist.”

“Sure thing. Go easy on make-up on me, huh?”

Shannon said just a light touch-up would suffice as it was only a screen test. One only had to look at him to realize he’s waltz through it.

“Can you find one of these for me, sweetie?” chuckled Mrs Faber as she walked slowly around the chair, finger on chin, looking at the nervous 28-year old. She then came in behind him, pulling his head back on to her bosom as she looked at his forehead and down his nose-line.

Lincoln’s eyes roll into his head and he appeared to stop breathing.

“Oh dear,” Mrs Faber squeaked.

Shannon, who was fingering through a magazine, guessed immediately what was happening.

“Step back Mrs Faber, now!”

Mrs Faber obeyed and asked what was his problem.

“I’m only guessing but I believe he’s one of those men with a fixation on women’s breasts. He realized he was being enveloped in breast and his brain signalled that he was drowning and so he passed out. Look he’s stirring.”

Mrs Faber grabbed a tube of hydra cleanser and said in a surprised voice, “Oh hello dear, did we have a wee sleep?”

“I don’t think so,” Lincoln replied, sounding mystified.

Mrs Faber winked at Shannon and completed her work without further incident.

They went into a small studio where several people were buzzing about.

“This is my latest find Mrs King,” Shannon announced in a clear voice – Lincoln Moss.

Lincoln looked the room with a vaulted ceiling against the lights to a camera crew gathered around the largest camera he’d ever seen. But they looked bored, not listening to Shannon. He then noticed Shannon was talking to a woman, in her mid-forties just to the right of the camera. She was standing between two control panels, with a hand across her chest eyeing him. He gained the impression she was in a cannibalistic frame of mind, ready to eat him.

“Welcome Lincoln – just do everything I say. Everything I say will be for a reason.”

Mrs King moved into a chair and Shannon whispered ‘Good luck’ and went out of camera range.

“Cameras ready?”

There was only one camera, Lincoln mused but then the lights of an overhead camera he’d not noticed came on.

“Yes Eve.”

“Ready Eve.”

“Look straight at the camera in front of you, Lincoln,” Mrs King said and then barked out orders.

“Smile. Frown. Pretend to laugh. Look bewildered. Scratch your left ear – that’s your right ear, Lincoln. I don’t know – you men. Shrug as if you don’t know. Now turn right – yes, that’s right, face the wall, chin held high. Hold it. Now drop your head slightly – I said slightly, not on to your chest. That’s good. Now do a 180. Oh Christ, at last I have someone who understands what a half-turn means.”

“Chin up…hold…drop head slightly. Good. Now walk right to the camera in front of you, stopping three feet from it. That’s good – smile to show quite a lot of teeth. Stand on the same position turning left – hold it.  Turn 360…oh, good boy, undisciplined but anticipating. I’m going to really like you. Hold it. Now back to the camera and walk away from it, your natural walk. That’s it. Now back to the spot where this all began. You remembered? Good boy.”

“Answer the questions facing the camera. Imagine you are being televised alive. You are in command, you tell yourself to keep relaxed, correct any mistake fluently and don’t rush your speech. Look at Shannon who’s acting quiz master. Begin Shannon.”

“But Mrs King, these questions…”

“This is only a test, Shannon. Let’s have some fun. Don’t answer all or any of the questions if they embarrass you, Lincoln.”

Shannon couldn’t believe this. She was being forced to ask Lincoln some unbecoming questions. It would be like Mrs King to fire her if she refused to do this job; the regular test presenter was away ill. It was likely the woman was sick of Mrs King.

She now felt sick herself.

Lincoln was facing her, looking self-assured and he’d be trusting her. She took the risk and said: “I apologize Lincoln, I had no part in framing these questions.”

“No worries – if it upsets you I’ll square off by taking you to dinner.”

“I was thinking of taking him to dinner,” sounded a highly amplified and slightly annoyed voice.

“I’m sorry Mrs King; you’re married.”

“My God, where did we find him,” she laughed. “Proceed, Shannon.”


Shannon: What part of the female body interests you most?”

Lincoln: The tits.

Shannon: If your reply was not the brain, why not?

Lincoln: It’s dangerous to fondle the brain (Laugher, even Shannon laughed).

Shannon: Do you admire or think unkindly of women who do it on the first date?

Lincoln:I’d admire them because it’s what I expect.

Shannon: Are you intelligent…?

“Shannon,” boomed Mrs King’s voice. “Stick to the script. We are taking sound recordings for analysis.’

Shannon: What is the most precious thing a woman can give you?”

Lincoln: Her undying love.

Shannon: If you didn’t answer her vagina, where would that rate?

Lincoln: Probably after tits then lips but that would depend on the quality of her butt.

Shannon: Finally, what is your reaction to these questions?

Lincoln:They appeared devised by some sex fanatic. But it’s fine. We all need some fun in our lives, don’t we? Not having a clue what this was about I’ve really enjoyed myself and loved...”

That’s a wrap,” Mrs Smith called. Thanks Lincoln. I’ll be with you in a minute.

Lincoln went to the white-faced Shannon.

“You did brilliantly under duress, baby. You’re real trooper. I’m very proud of you as that must have been quite an ordeal. None of those questions seemed appropriate for you.”

“Thanks Lincoln. And in this instance, I must say in this instance, you really know how to talk to a woman.”

“Shannon, take some advice from one who sometimes knows. Stand up to her just a bit and take a risk occasionally and say no. She’ll get the message and find her amusement elsewhere. She’s just over-sexed with a touch of mongrel. Before running from her, consider that your next boss may even be worse. Always quit employment for the right reason.”

“Who are you Lincoln Moss?”

“Ah that sounds better. Chin up, here she comes.”

The crew, including those from the control room, gathered round to hear the verdict.

“An excellent all round performance Lincoln. We should have you in front of the cameras for a test, Shannon. Your voice has rare resonance and pitch for one so young. How old are you?”

“Almost twenty-six Mrs King.”

“Ah, so young. Well file that test Brian. I’ve seen enough. He needs to be prepared to appear on Show 10. I’m so happy because I believe he’ll be more than a match for that tubby guy Williams. It would be of great embarrassment to us if heaven forbit Tubby made it to the island, Thank you everyone. Have a lovely dinner you two.”

Lincoln muttered, “Thanks Mrs King.”

“Brief him Shannon. Oh, you’d better wet nurse him and then we can skip setting up the last rehearsal for him as we did with that guy Schmidt who’s been on TV game shows before.”

Eve King left with her team.

“Look, about dinner tonight – mention of that came out of the blue. I have no desire to have dinner with you.”

“Why not?”

“I have no wish to be rude but you’re not my type.”

Lincoln looked at her coolly. “Exactly what is your type?”

Shannon looked uncomfortable.

“The truth is I’m not sure; I haven’t had much luck with my choice of men. My lack of good instinct with men aims me towards the bottom of the barrel instead of toward the top and I certainly am not providing myself for fodder for any man with a breast fetish.”

“Well that eliminates me.”

“It certainly does. I’ll call someone to show you out.”

“No Shannon. You brought me here, I’d like you to escort me out.”

The violet eyes clashed with light green eyes violet wavered.

“Very well and I must say you are a most unusual man.”

“It’s the women I associate with who have trained me; none being honest, stable and warm in their companionship.”

“I probably fit all three categories.”

Lincoln shook his head.

“I don’t think so, Shannon. The words I’d pick for you are opportunist, flighty and in it for personal gain.”

Shannon began walking off, her high-heels tapping the floor furiously.

“You brute, you’ve no idea what you are talking about. But I now know why women won’t stick with you – they soon see you regard them with contempt.”

Lincoln didn’t reply.

They walked from the lift to the main exit in silence, accompanied by the angry tapping of Shannon’s heels on granite. At the exit doorway Lincoln impishly pursed his lips in kissing mode.

Shannon turned and walked away abruptly, muttering what Lincoln thought sounded very much like “Bastard, bastard”.

He concluded that young woman had a problem with self-management.

*  *

Shannon’s anger gradually faded and the image of a smiling-faced almost-a-hunk called Lincoln Moss percolated back through her mind. The man was unstable, a terrible tease, arrogant and, well, to tell the truth, worthy of being run over by speeding and grossly over-loaded truck.

“No, no – I didn’t mean that,” she shouted despite being alone in her small apartment. But mentally she was relieved to have saved him from severe maiming, perhaps even death; he’d done nothing to deserve that ignominious fate of being run over. Where did that word ignominious come from? Nobody used it these days. She was under stress, she sighed. It was Mrs King’s fault.

She opened a new bottle of gin because she felt like crying.

What appeared to be a most promising day for her had turned into crap, absolute crap – Mrs King had demeaned her and would end up cancelling her protégé sound test and any thought of promotion, which was a terrible outcome. Shannon sighed and reminded herself that as a contract finder she’d complete the job to find a suitable replacement contestant. For that she’d receive a success fee that would jump if he managed to make the top ten. If Lincoln made the final, whether he won it or not, she’d receive a bonus of three grand.

“He’s no longer talking to me, or me to him, so fat chance I have of shepherding him into a finalist’s chair.”

She took a slug of gin, coughed heartedly and with watering eyes realized she’d not added the mixer.

“I’m a mess, a weak female mess from one who drives away male friends and half of my female friends because of my excessive demands for such people to be honest and respectful in their dealings with me,” the pale-faced and usually quite attractive brunette said aloud, scowling.

“How can I be to blame? My parents drummed in to me to be loyal and bond to people in mutual fidelity? How were they to know that half the people of this world would go slack and become self-centred and perhaps act dishonestly – how the fuck could I have known that?”

Emptying her glass, Shannon poured another but added two-thirds gin to one third of tonic aerated water instead of the other way around.

Powerful stuff is gin when you’re depressed, she thought expansively.

In the end, as she slipped on to the lounge carpet to sleep, not feeling inclined to struggle to her bedroom, Shannon had come to the conclusion that Lincoln Moss was one of the most interesting men she’d met in yonks and his unpredictability made him almost exciting.

She dimly realized she could feed off him – his very presence made her feel strong. Just think of the power surge she felt when he advised her to stand up a little to Mrs King without getting too far up her nose. Brilliant, he was brilliant and if he walked in right now he could have her right here on the carpet. The carpet? Where was her bed?

The next thing she knew it was morning.

Strangely enough, her head felt good. Shannon wondered perhaps she had not binged but when she sighted the gin bottle she realized she had. Ah, she would have eaten well before drowning her sorrows. Eaten? She realized she’d not eaten since lunch the previous day.

Shannon phoned Julie.

“Hi Shannon, what’s the crisis?”

“None. Come out for breakfast with me.”

“Christ, Shannon – are you mad? It’s just gone 7:00.”

Shannon apologized but Julie said since she was awake she’d go to breakfast provided she wouldn’t be criticized for scoffing bacon, two eggs, tomatoes and French fries.

“No, dear one. I’ll have the same. I have eaten since lunch time yesterday.”

*  *

Over breakfast, Julie sat only opening her mouth to eat, hearing about the most extraordinary man to have walked the planet, his sole weakness being he didn’t know how to talk to women – oh and he had a breast fetish.

At that, Julie’s eyes opened wide. She’d never heard her usually stable friend talk so enthusiastically about any guy and she’d just identified him as having two massive faults – prone to verbal arrogance and having a fixation on a part of women where he shouldn’t.

The blue-eyed blonde, knowing she possessed practically unnoticeable breasts, contentedly allowed her friend to prattle on.

Shannon like this was unstoppable, anyway. Shannon was now fantasizing being on an uninhabited island with this guy and thinking in disgusting detail licking her top lip, what she’d do to him. Julie saw two women from the table next to them, hurriedly shift their food and utensils to the far side of the room, glaring at Shannon as they went, with Julie innocent although guilty by association.

Even so what, it was lovely seeing her best friend apparently turning a dream into reality, although the guy might think Shannon was too tentative and talked too much for him to want a relationship with her. She should look the guy over.



Chapter 2

Julie Radanovich worked as assistant lawyer in the small legal department of Channel-8 and that meant it would be easy to find this guy’s contract in the pile waiting to be processed. Shannon had kept calling him Lincoln, unusual for a forename. She quickly found his contract and began reviewing it.

She looked at his photo and asked would she want to spend six nights with him on an uninhabited island? Would she want any woman placed on the island by Channel-8 to be at the mercy of this man? Shouldn’t someone take a preliminary look at this guy?

Satisfied she was justified in checking out Lincoln, Julie called him. They arranged to meet at what he called The Boat Test Shed on Eisenhower Wharf.

“Come after 1:00, my office woman will be back by then as well as my two assistants.”

“I don’t need to see them.”

“I mean otherwise I’ll be here alone; you have your personal and professional reputation to consider.”

Julie couldn’t believe it. A chaperone in this day and age?

“Are you sexually obsessive?”

He stuttered, “I-I d-don’t think so.”

Julie pounced: “You don’t know? Oh dear.”

He said what he meant was he had a bit of a fascination for female um breasts.

“Oh, is that all? Most of us have at least one fetish. Mine is…well, perhaps we ought not be having this discussion.”

She found Shed 3 on the wharf and entered the premises of Moss Small Marine Engine Diagnostics and Performance Testing Ltd.

“Hello,” she called out

“Hello,” answered a quiet voice at her side.

She shrieked.

“Oh God, you gave me such a fright.”

“What now?” he asked, skirting the normal preliminaries.

 “Mr Moss, there are just a few contractual things we need to sort out.”

“Right, come on board the 28-footer out here. I have a couple of pizzas in the oven and the coffee ready or would you prefer a beer or rum?”

“White wine?”


Sipping wine and chewing pizza Julie asked, “May I sight your passport please. I need to establish your bona fide identity.”

“It’s at home, will be driver’s licence do?”


Julie read it and copied details, conscious that her breasts was under close inspection. She felt her nipples begin to move.

She asked a number of questions about whether he envisaged having any problems spending time in isolation on a deserted island with a woman he didn’t know.

Lincoln replied he thought they would be fine. They would fish and swim and explore the island, prepare and eat meals, sleep and when there was nothing else to do they’d probably fuck.

“Thank you, Lincoln, I’ve noted all of that and must admit I could have written that answer better myself. We will have a more extensive interview should you win the contest.”

“That fine. Would you like to look over the boat?”

“Yes, it appears very compact and luxurious.”

He nodded and they went aft.

“This is the owner’s cabin. It’s big but still a tight squeeze compared with a bedroom on-shore but look at this, it’s a water bed.”

“Ooh, may I feel? I’ve had no experience with a waterbed.”

Lincoln suggested she jump on to it, after removed her shoes and hauled up her skirt.

“You’ll have to look away.”

“I’ll half turn away.”

All this was turning Julie on.

She heard was he said but ignored it. If he sighted her wet spot that had surprisingly developed, so what?

She bounced around a bit but was disappointed he appeared disinterested. She struggled to get off the bed and he gave her a hand up.

“Oh goodness,” she said, breathing a little heavy from the bouncing and her breath catching because he now had his arms around her.

“Please give me a look at them?” he asked, now a little breathless himself.

She was aware he’d not said please and there had been no preamble. Why wasn’t he kissing her?

“If you keep your mouth shut, I will do what you’ve asked. I noticed in the contract provision for payment of a finder’s fee to Shannon Maple should you win the contest. I must disclose to you that Shannon and I are best friends.”

“There’s no romantic relationship between Shannon and me. Proceed and I undertake to tell no one, ever.”

“Why do you want me to do this?”

“I suspect you have magnificent tits.”


“Magnificent breasts.”

Without further delay, Julie hauled her top off and pulled the cups down off her breasts.

Lincoln gazed as them with such admiration that Julie melted.

“Do anything you like with them.”

“Soon both of them were panting and Julie desperately wanted more.

“Let me get a rubber from my handbag,” she gasped.

She was on fire. He lifted her on to the bed, feet dangling to the floor.

“Open up Julie.”

God, he was so basic, she sighed. She opened her legs and pulled the crotch of her knickers aside while he unzipped and attended to his quite impressive cock.

She was leaking already.

The bed was at exactly the right height for this, probably by design. Lincoln pressed right up to her pussy, grinning and looking more than interested. Pausing, he whispered huskily, “Feed it in Julie.”

With shaking hands and thumping heart, she did as he’d instructed, she being lubricated so well that despite its girth his cock slid like a torpedo. Meanwhile he’d slipped off his striped polo shirt to allow her to get at his chest.

The bounce of the waterbed allowed Lincoln to drive deep into her, overwhelming with sensitivities until finally she burst.

He pulled out, the rubber tip empty.

Hastily Julie pulled it off for him; his face was red, his eyes were wild, indicating he was ready. He aimed for her belly and watching the spurts fly through the air.

 Licking her swollen lips from robust kissing, Julie felt such a slut, loving it.

“That was a hot fuck, I truly didn’t expect it,” he said.

What’s that crap about this man not knowing how to talk to a woman, thought Julie, stretching as he wiped her dry with a towel, and feeling really good about herself, only to hear the ruthless jerk say, “You best be off, I have work to do. We must do this again sometime; I really enjoy getting a load away.”

Julie weaved back to her car, physically and emotionally on a high. She was on the verge of thinking she hadn’t enjoyed it because of his almost totally inadequate conversation but decided why be churlish; he’d been wonderfully good and got her away big time.

“You’re the man, Lincoln.”

She sighed, wondering if she’d get another chance to go again with him before her husband arrived back from Japan on Sunday.

Pulling her engagement and wedding rings on in the car, she mused if Lincoln would be interested to know she was married. But, why should he? Thankfully she was on a salary; had she been in a commercial partnership, clocking up every minute of productive time in 15-minute increments she would have considered charging him for time and her services. Oh yeah?

*  *

Lincoln went home on his fortnightly command visit to have dinner with his mother Stella, father Ruben and sister Mackenzie. His mum insisted on this because she wanted him to remember he had a family.

The rebellious 22-year-old sister heard the sound of the souped-up motor of his ute (pick-up) and rushed out to greet him, aware several of her girlfriends were impressed that she had such a hunk for a brother.

Stella, working in the kitchen, heard Mackenzie scream in despair and shouted to her husband, “He’s run over his sister.”

“Rubbish,” Ruben said, continuing reading the newspaper. “The motor stopped at least 30 seconds before our daughter’s over-reaction.”

Stella raced out and saw Mackenzie was standing and looking upset.

“What is it?”

“Mum, his greeting to me was disgusting. He said it was great that I had grown a descent set of tits at last.”

Stella sighed, told her daughter to deal with it and returned to the kitchen, concealing her huge grin from her children. Mackenzie had not changed significantly in physique since the big tease’s last visit.

But when Lincoln entered the kitchen and moved to kiss her, she pushed him away and told him to sit.

“What’s up with you mum; aren’t you getting enough sex.”

“God, you still are a callous-talking skunk when it comes to addressing females.”

Lincoln just shrugged, knowing in this situation it was best to keep him mouth shut.

He listened to his mother as she went on and on.

She finally went to the fridge and hauled out a bottle of beer and thrust it at him.

“Did what I say to you make sense?”

“Nah, because it was a hundred times replay from you. I’m not a sensitive person so I don’t talk sensitively to females. I’ve told you a hundred times, what people see when they meet me is what they get, honesty and no bullshit.”

Stella sighed, throwing her head from side to side and said, “Fuck off out of my kitchen and go to the person you cloned from.”

“Okay but first I’ll find Mackenzie.”

“Why to ask can you see her tits?”

“No of course not. I feel I should apologize because I think I may have upset her with my teasing.”

Stella appeared to choke, looking at her son in disbelief.

He winked and left the kitchen and within minutes heard Mackenzie from her bedroom laughing and then the sound of her son’s booming laugh.

She marvelled to herself that some babe or two have managed to start pushing his correct behaviour button.

During the visit, the hard-nosed son/brother made no mention of his association with a TV talent spotter, that he would be appearing on a TV show soaring in popularity and that he’d nobbled the TV station’s sexy lawyer from the legal team and had scored to rate in his list of top five best fucks.

After dinner, Stella noticed how well her children appeared to be relating and when Lincoln was leaving she was thrilled no end when Mackenzie ran up to her brother and kissed him on the cheek and invited him to return soon.

She said carefully to Mackenzie later, “You and Lincoln appeared to be relating well for a change and that’s surprising after he embarrassed you greatly when he arrived.”

“Mum, he came to my room and looking at me meekly apologized and said he’d been only giving me a supreme compliment when he’d mentioned me boobs. I realized he genuinely believed that and knew I’d over-reacted and told him so.”

“Lincoln told me that some guys like him felt that a woman’s breasts were their best feature. He went on to tell me about the kind of guys to avoid sexually, how to try to see a guy just as any other guy would and then he went all seriously and told me how to pick the type of boyfriends that you would happily welcome into your home.”

Stella boggled and blurted, “Are you sure you were talking with our Lincoln?”

Mother and daughter clutched one another laughing almost hysterically.

*  *

Shannon had spent the early morning at the TV station in the programming department, tediously going through the websites of agencies looking to match a spec: ‘Blonde, blue eyes, wide mouth, subdued figure, under 5ft 6in, strong voice with the ability to produce an aggressive appearance.’

Well, the bit part actress could be any hair or eye colour as a wig and contact lenses would meet the spec for the main supporting actress. The director obviously didn’t want a woman with a figure superior to Morgan Owen, who was taking the lead in the three-part drama production. It could be presumed that all actresses could project a strong voice and she’d been asked to line up three prospects for casting and that suggested at least one was show her aggressive side.

Shannon looked through scores of bios looking for a wide mouthed woman capable of looking aggressive and found all three prospects and confirmed availability fifteen minutes before the start of the so-called 200 Grand Game Show exec meeting began.

She’d been instructed to attend this one. Did that indicate her growing importance to Channel-8? It had better be; she was becoming restless, wanting greater responsibility and feeling the desire to climb that invisible ladder of promotion.

In the rest-room, Shannon took great care with her make-up. This was known as a ‘Big Cheese’ meeting that occurred a bit before the final screening of any series.

Head of Productions, J. B. Southgate, would chair the meeting; Shannon knew who he was by sight but had never spoken to the man whose whispered nickname was ‘Mr Grumpy’. Apparently, his tolerance level operated at zero.

She was pleased with her appearance – she’d washed her hair that morning and she wore a ruffled blue top and darker blue short leather skirt and dinky yellow shoes with a matching yellow leather choker. She’d been conscious of men – and a few women – watching her as she walked into the building that morning.

The meeting started with a surprise – J.B. stood aside and Mrs Nixon, president of Channel-8’s parent company, Entertainment Enterprise Holdings Inc, took the chair.

Most people at the meeting would have only seen Mrs Nixon on TV News. Her chauffeur-security guard stood behind her as she sat down. Mrs Nixon had been mugged leaving a high society New Year’s Eve party and been twice jostled by the Women’s Right Wing Collective. It was rumoured the billionaire widow’s three personal guards who worked in shifts were unarmed combat specialists and carried concealed Tasers and stun guns.

Mrs Nixon, thin and in her seventies, looked as if she’d have a reedy voice and be mousy. When she barked, “Attention everyone” the whole room sat upright as if they’d been whacked. Her voice dripped authority.

“I’m here for a special reason. Channel-8’s marketing team has sold the screening rights of this series ‘Ecstasy Island Paradise for Two’ production to a total of seventy-eight television broadcasters in nine countries and negotiations are underway with major networks in five countries who have approached us to be licensed to use our format devised by J.B. and his team to produce their own show.”

Waiting for the heavy applause to cease, Mrs Nixon continued: “Already this is the biggest sale in light entertainment in the history of New Zealand television but it’s about to eclipse total viewers for any other production series in this country except for Rugby Football test series.”

She smiled. “This show’s success has caught us all by surprise.”

“I can also suggest we don’t need a crystal ball to know what program this year will take the award for Best New Program, Best Produced Light Entertainment Program, Best Set Design and New Zealand Television Program of the Year. When the latest earnings and preliminary audit was delivered to us this morning, I was advised by our Director of Treasury that ‘Ecstasy Island Paradise for Two’ has become this company’s biggest revenue earner in its 42-year history and production costs fall on the leaner side of the ledger.”

“We immediately advised the Stock Exchange of this information when it came to hand, as we are required to do, and within fifteen minutes of the opening of trading our shares had jumped in price 83c to 305c and just as I arrived here I was advised the price had settled back to 291c, but that still indicates what investors think of our company and its multi-million-dollar baby. Thank you everyone involved for your teamwork and combined sheer genius for making this program the darling of the public. A bonus will be paid within a month to everyone who has worked on this program. Thank you.”

Mrs Nixon left to a standing ovation.

J.B. took the chair. “I don’t mind telling you when we decided to go with the show we were nervous. I wanted Mark Dangerman as producer but he turned me down. I saw Eve King walk past my door sand called out, ‘Eve, do a game show for me?’ Her response was classic for Eve.”

 Looking down the table to Eve, he asked “Do you remember what your reply was?”

“I said nothing but signalled my rejection with two upturned fingers.”

Everyone laughed and several called that really was classic Eve.

“I couldn’t let that rude bitch do that to me so I went after her, sat her down and told her she’s doing the program, and if she refused I’d cut her salary and no longer defend her against allegations of unacceptable behaviour of people working under her wing.

She meekly accepted my proposal yes, and since has had two salary increases because she’d pulled a group around her who’ve made that program fly. I salute you Eve.”

Eve basked in the applause and acknowledged her supreme boss with a military salute.

After that, the meeting droned on, mainly on technical aspects in an attempt to ensure fault-free production because the show screened live, with the final in two weeks going to a hugely increased audience either live or as a delayed broadcast.

Shannon was studying the elaborate ear-rings of a woman across from her when she heard her name called. The nine VIPs were seated around the table and she was among the thirteen-lesser ranked folk seated around the two main side walls.

“Yes J.B.” she said, holding up her hand.

“Hi, Shannon. Good to meet you. You have a fan here, Eve. She is crediting you for scouting all the possible finalists so far and the guy we needed urgently as a replacement. Well done.”

Shannon’s face burned as she heard the applause.

“That is a hugely successful result for a single scout,” J.B said. “I am now announcing that I have approved Eve’s request that you be appointed on contract as liaison officer to nurse the winner and his chosen partner. You will be responsible for preparing them to meet the media. In particular, you’ll nurse them through all other pressures and to act as prime trouble-shooter should anything go wrong from Finals Night in just over three weeks hence and until when the couple arrives back in New Zealand to a media frenzy to each claim their $100,000 cash. In case something should go amiss with this appointment, our young lawyer Julie whatshername will be the back-up.”

“Remember, it will be you propping them up if they come home early, a broken couple, to explain what went wrong. It will be up to you to front on our behalf and deal with the media – the international media who’ll be wanting our blood for throwing a mismatched pair into utter humiliation.”

There was a hush and people looked at Shannon sympathetically. She replied confidently.

“Thank you for this high-profile task of responsibility, J.B. I realize if I fail my career is over, and what a lovely incentive to kick me along.”

J.B. looked startled, then grinned.

“That’s the spirit. I can see why Eve believes you have grit.”

At the conclusion of the meeting Shannon was still in a daze. A few people – almost all females – crowded around to congratulate her and spoke glibly about there being little chance of failure.


Shannon met Lincoln at the studio where cameras and the set were being checked before the lighting and sound tests was conducted for the rehearsal just for him.

She told Lincoln, “The idea is for you to be seated where you’ll sit for Round 10 to experience the lighting and atmosphere. Please remember it will be a live show and so no picking your nose or scratching your testicles.  Presenter Cecil Bainbridge has kindly consented to come in and toss some questions at you for a touch of realism. It won’t matter if you fail all test questions.”

“That sounds good. It’s what you told me on the phone. Why are you off-hand with me?”

“I’m not. I’m being friendly and professional. Just because I said the other night you’re not my type there’s nothing stopping us being friends.”

“I guess so provided I can say you look pretty in that dress?”

“You may, but that’s the limit of being personal – understand?”

“Yes, Shannon. I receive a thousand bucks for my appearance on Round 10: may I take you out to dinner at the conclusion?”

“No thanks, I must decline that offer with regret.”

“Will you ever go out to dinner with me?”


“What is your type, Shannon?”

She looked away and gave it to him, pulling no punches.

“Over the last few days I’ve tried to analyse that for my own benefit. First to be rejected were men who don’t respect me for what I am or who fail to converse with me in an interesting and fulsome manner. Then I thought I had no empathy with men who call women’s breasts tits, and men who look at a women’s breasts as if they were delectable ice cream cones.”

“I guess you were rejected on every count.”

Lincoln had lost his smile.

He asked tersely, “Doesn’t that make me a prime candidate for you?”

She snorted, “How on earth can you justify that absurd comment?”

“A principal of science and evident in biology, opposites attract one another.”

“Lincoln, that’s enough rubbish for today. Here’s Mr Bainbridge, please come with me and I’ll introduce him.”

Lincoln’s rehearsal went without a hitch, the three questions were ‘What is the name of the sea between Australia and New Zealand; does the sun rise over New Zealand rise from the north or south; what is the main difference between a pair of gumboots.

The answers were easy for him: the Tasman Sea; neither, the sun rises in the east; one gumboot is moulded for the big toe on the right, the other is moulded for the left big toe.

When Lincoln stepped down from the tiered seating he found Shannon talking to lawyer Julie Radanovich.

“Oh Lincoln, this is my friend Julie Radanovich, one of our company’s lawyers and the youngest by far. Julie, this is our latest contestant to be rounded up following the withdrawal of the chap from Timaru. Meet Lincoln Moss.”

“Oh, what a lovely name,” Julie said, leaving Shannon to double blink.

Julie held out her hand to Lincoln as if meeting him for the first time.

“Shannon has told me so much about you.”

“Julie!” Shannon choked.

“I usually covet Shannon’s superb choice of men.”

“You’re married!” Shannon said, coming close to losing her poise.

“Married?” Lincoln asked and looked dismayed.

“She’s been married two years and still pretends she’s single,” Shannon said, moving between the two of them. “Have you finished here Julie?”

“Almost I suppose. Do you think we ought to invite this lovely man to accompany us to dinner tonight?”

“I’m out of here,” Lincoln said, rolling his eyes. “I need to begin preparing myself mentally for my big night.”

“I’ll call you about a night on the town,” Julie called. “I’ll find your phone number on your contract.”

“He’s unsuitable to go out with any female unless she is focused only on sex,” Shannon practically hissed.

“Oh, perhaps I can change his ways,” Julie purred. “Males can easily act badly when they believe they are misunderstood by women.”

The two women watched Lincoln’s butt as he walked away calling out goodbye.

“Do you think he could take on the two of us?”


“What? I was only speculating. Powerful thighs, I suggest.”

“I think nothing of the sort and you should be thinking of your marriage, you wicked girl. I’ll not allow you to put a finger on that nice man.”

“Nice man? You seemed to have gone cold on him. I saw him looking at my tits.”


“Whatever. You seem to be rather uptight, Shannon. I think a couple of hours with him in bed with is what you need. Shall I arrange it?”

“You are coming dangerous close to getting your nose smacked, Julie.”

Julie laughed and said that sounded if the familiar confident Shannon was back. “By the way, congratulations. I’ve been asked to draft your new contract that places you on our regular payroll. You’re on the way up the ladder, my girl. Let’s celebrate this evening your elevation as a rising star.”

“It’s a one-rung promotion, that’s all.”

“My girl, it’s more than a small promotion when initiated by the over-sexed Eve and endorsed by po-faced B.J.”

“Are you sure you’re the right temperament and class to be a company lawyer, Julie?”

“Bitch!” Julie laughed. “I’ll pick you up at 8:00.”

“Thanks, I’m looking forward to a nice relaxing dinner.”


At 5:15 Julie was parked at the waterfront and called a number.

“Hi Lincoln, it’s Julie.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No Lincoln, I was just passing through the neighbourhood before going to a dinner appointment and thought of having a drink with you.”

“Really, with me? But you are married.”

“I still feel single until my husband arrives back home but that’s beside the point. I was just passing and thought of having a drink.”

“Oh yeah, right, just a drink.”

“Of course, I’m a lawyer, not a prostitute.”

They both laughed and Lincoln invited her to drop in, saying he lived in the upper floor of the boatshed. Julie thought oh yuk, not over that messy and smelly place. Putting that out of mind she said she’d be there in a minute.

Although Julie only had a vague thought about seducing Lincoln, she just wanted male company. As he was the hottest guy around her at the moment, he got the call. Ha – he was the only guy in that position! She climbed the stairs and was pleasantly surprised – the upper floor had been completely renovated and the harbour views were magnificent. Lincoln was dressed for socializing in a new polo and crisp white shorts, but was barefoot. Well, it was a boating environment. His music was sexy – cool jazz.

“The truth is I have a couple of hours to kill, so here I am.”

“You’re welcome. May I kiss you?”

“Please do,” Julie said, somewhat startled he was asking for permission, considering what had happened between them the previous day in a moored launch just thirty or forty meters from where they were standing and a few hours ago, when she noted his reaction to the news she was married.

The kiss was warm, well executed but she was left wondering why he didn’t run his hands over her body.

“Gin, wine, beer or whatever?”

“Vodka over ice, not contaminated with anything else.”

Lincoln handed her the drink and clinked his beer bottle against her glass.

The low sun was streaming in on him, making him look angelic, good enough to eat. Julie felt herself slip into predatory mode but he sent that askew, at least temporarily.

“I was disappointed you didn’t advised me before we went at it yesterday that you were married.”

God, he was bleeding over that, she thought. Some men could be so childish. She’d blame their mothers for that. Steady girl, go softly here.

“Yes, I don’t know what came over me, I knew I was married of course. I just can’t explain it.”

Just as Julie anticipated, her response was confusing enough to make him decided why bother; it was behind them now.

“I see,” was all he said, then asked her how she liked his pad.

“Cute and tidy.”

Even that seemed to satisfy him.

The truth was she realized the nearby shipping container installation and general port and shipping movements promised an around-the-clock cacophony of sound, some very invasive.

After ten minutes. she stood up and said she was off.

“So soon?”

Lincoln was distracted by Julie reaching under her top to adjust a bra strap. She concentrated on the job, not looking at him, not talking to him. Suddenly she found him right in front of her asking could he be of assistance.

“It must have been the way I was sitting on that chair. The strap was digging into my shoulder, damn it. I was planning to wear a strapless dress this evening.”

“Please allow me to check this out.”

“Certainly, it will be easier if I take off my top.”

She had that off before he’d barely opened his mouth to whatever – to say that wasn’t necessary, most likely. Everyone knew holding up 34c’s with thin straps invariably left a temporary strap depression.

“My God, look at this red welt,” he said, obviously having no idea of the mechanics of holding up heavy flesh all day.

“Perhaps some baby oil…” she faltered.

He said he didn’t have any but had some great cream with Vitamin E he used to reduce wetsuit chaffing when surfing or scuba diving.

While he rushed off to get that, Julie was left to decide to stay standing or to sit down; to leave her bra as is or to remove it. She decided to remain motionless.

Lincoln came rushing back with the lube.

“You’re such a nice man,” she purred.

He looked startled and then looked helpless.

“Allow me to push off the strap. Then you can kindly administer to me.

She turned to directly face him, brushing off the strap and pushing her right leg forward. As he moved and bent to apply the cream his crotch was firmly positioned against her thigh.

She resisted the temptation to wriggle that thigh; instead saying, “Lovely music. A slightly faster beat and it would be something like strip music.”

He was almost finished. As the music was a track designed almost to send one to sleep, he looked up is see if she were joking.

His lips were set to make such a response; she bent forward and stretching up kissed them, pulling back instantly.

“What was that for?” he demanded.

“You are pressing your thingy against my thigh – I just assumed you wanted my response. I mean, you’re already have me half undressed. Aren’t you the guy with a thing about tits?”

Lincoln looked at her steely-eyed, “You conniving bitch.”

“Yes, aren’t I? Operating like you do I guess when you are after a piece of pussy.”

His eyes narrowed; he didn’t look at all pleased.

She breathed in deeply, pushing out her tits.

His eyes widened.

“My bra has two fasteners at the back,” she whispered. “Why not have a good time. I promise, no fucking unless you initiated it.”

“You promise?”


He had the two hooks undone faster than Julie could have managed.

“I bet you’re done that before, many times in fact.”

He grinned boyishly and told her she really had a great pair despite being a little smallish

Julie was glad they were no larger than what they were.

“They have been rather useless for me over the years but I’ll start having a baby or two within the next year or so. Would you like to pretend you are mummy’s baby now?”


Not unexpectedly, they ended up having a piece of each other. He’d sucked and slurped so expertly that he had Julie screaming for it and she dug so hard to free his erection that she almost bent it in half, making him hop.

“The bedroom, the bedroom,” she moaned at last.

“I want you Julie, right here. Dammit, how are you getting away with this; you’re a married woman?”

“I feel like your unmarried virgin right now,” she purred. “I won’t let you do it unless you force me to buckle to you.”

At that, the very much aroused Lincoln howled like a wolf, dropped his pants and kicking off his undies. Lifting up Julie, he lurched them towards the nearby wall.

“God, Lincoln don’t bust your boiler and spoil your performance on the show with an injured back. I’m not exactly a lightweight.”

“Keep your focus, Julie – isn’t it time you pushed it in or do you want me to finger you first?”

“No, I’m soaked. Here we go Captain Ahab – and here’s Moby Dick going on a deep dive.”

Lincoln chortled, “Don’t get to ‘Thar she blows’ too early Julie.”

They both laughed themselves almost legless but got going again, eventually coming to a climatic finish, without a few seconds of one another.

After a brief break, they went at it again on the floor and then rested.

“I take it I’m no longer off limits,” Julie said.

“Well, just occasionally and um, when your husband is out of the country. Does he travel much?”

“Every month to six weeks.”

“How convenient. Let’s be friends and just have a bit on the side as an aperitif.  That leaves me available for Miss Right to find me.”

“Will that be Shannon?”

“You are a comedienne, Julie. You saw how she reacted to me earlier today.”

“Yes, I can’t understand that, it’s really not like her. I wonder if her mind has gone soft on you and she’s attempting to reject such a thought?”


“It’s only speculation. If she finds out how you use that cock, she’ll be yours for life.”

“That’s crude.”

“That’s the reality, my addicted tit licker. You work my breasts like no other man I know, and there have been a few of them.

“That’s ridiculous what you said about Shannon.”

“Perhaps, but you do make it difficult for her as you really don’t know how to talk to women. Some woman needs to take you in hand and coach you in the art of displaying your romantic side; it will be in you somewhere.”

She indicated – by biting Lincoln’s left ear – she was ready for more but he backed off, expressing regret.

“I don’t wish to pour out my brains through my dick when I should be hunched over my laptop attempting to increase my knowledge ready for my night of personal infamy or unexpected triumph.”

Julie understood.

*  *

Lincoln made a nervous start of the 10th and final selection round of the show, broadcast live. However, he gained confidence and making a large charge with successful answers he eased ahead near the end to win the round, thereby becoming the tenth and last finalist.

As the studio lights dimmed as the credits finished and the show went off-air, Lincoln with a slight victor’s flush went to the two pretty ladies in their mid-twenties clapping him as he approached.

He licked his lips, eying them, particularly their busts. Tonight, he’d get one of them, perhaps both! He could feel his neck swelling and his somnolent dick awakening. Was that a good omen?

“You were wonderful Lincoln,” Julie gushed, stepping forward and kissed him on the lips, pressing against him. “What a heroic finish after a wobbly start.”

“Yeah, I seemed to be a bit short on brain power at the start.”

He grinned and said that was a real mystery.

“Well done, an excellent performance,” Shannon said, clearing the way by delivering a gentle hip thrust on Julie and kissing Lincoln lightly on the lips and then taking two steps back.

“I…um…” Lincoln said.

The two women exchanged a quick eyebrows-raised smile then looked back at the man who had difficulty taking to women.

A barrel-chested man resplendent in a white tuxedo came up to Shannon and Julie and invited them to join his dinner party. They looked at Lincoln and back to the senior executive.

“Sorry,” J.B. smiled. “Just the team. Well done young man.”

“I’ll go to dinner with Lincoln,” Julie volunteered.

“No, you’re coming with us, Shannon said firmly, taking Julie by the arm and pulling her away as she turned and bid Lincoln goodnight.

“Sorry Lincoln,” Julie said, showing real concern. “Duty calls.”

Lincoln watched them go. Shannon didn’t look back, but Julie did, twice, and gave him a cute wave the final time. If only Julie weren’t married…

“Hi, we missed out on the babes too,” said one of the two men arriving beside Lincoln.

“Hi, I’m Guy as you’ll probably remember from the compere’s introductions. Oh, congratulations.”

“Thanks, hi Guy.”

“I’m Jerry – a pissed off Jerry,” said his companion, also offering congratulations. “You topped me at the finish because foolishly I began to think you might win – how stupid to think negatively at crisis time. I certainly lost focus and sharpness.”

“Good idea trolling the bars, Guy,” Lincoln said. “We may get lucky doing that and you may have first pick in reward for being such an aggressive competitor.”

Unfortunately, they seemed to choose gay men bars or else it was men’s night out in Auckland that evening. In visiting five bars, none of the threesome found a female to fill their arm. Both Jerry and Guy had to drive home and already having downed too many beers to pass a breath test at a police roadblock, they reluctantly called it a night.

Lincoln walked home half-a-mile away feeling rumpy, ready to kick stones or a cat. He walked past The Boatshed and down to steps to his private jetty where he found a shivering Julie.


“Hi – I left the dinner early and came here on spec.”

“I’m glad you did,” Lincoln said, putting his jacket over her shoulders and leading her to The Boatshed. “I’m very glad you did – let’s get you into a hot shower.”

“Only if you join me.”


Lincoln set the shower running moderately warm and fortunately there was a heater in the bathroom, which he flicked on. He turned expecting to find Julie in the shower already. But no, she was, smiling softly, waiting to be undressed. He kissed her, long and softly. Already the goose-flesh on her shoulders was less pronounced.

They tongued, mixing saliva while dancing their tongues.

Lincoln palmed her left tit; it felt bigger than ever, very firm. He knew about strapless bras with their extra support but this was sex-simulated firmness in his hand rather than a shelf bra.

He gloated and reached around and undid the zip, removing the expensive dress gently and hanging it up behind the door. While he found difficulty in speaking conversationally to women, he knew they liked their dinner-seduction clothing to be treated with respect because usually it was top shelf selection. Some women needed their clothing ripped off to stimulated them, but clearly Julie was not the kind of babe who required stimulation.

Possible with Julie fully aroused, perhaps one might needed a bucket of iced-water on hand to throw over her when she lost it totally.

Turning back at Julie, his erection hurled itself to maximum. For fuck sake, the girl had her hands behind her back, thrusting her chest at him.

The boobs weren’t really large but the shelf-bra dress she was wearing squashed them out, and with her chest pushed forward, she gave the impression she had half an acre of tit.

“F-u-c-k-i-n-g  a-m-a-z-i-n-g,” he drooled.

She said nothing, just kept looking at him with a dreamy smile as if she were well aware of what he was thinking.

Lincoln felt hot, so hot. Dammit, it was the heater.

Julie had meaty thighs. They were beautiful encased in light blue stockings attached to a lacy blue garter belt and she had matching blue briefs. Very delectable no doubt but his gaze swept back her chest. He pulled her dress down over the swollen boobs and gazed at his ‘supper’ in admiration.

Julie reached down between her legs and said, “Go get ’em Captain Ahab.”

Lincoln sometimes did what he was told, and this was one of those occasions.


Washing away sperm dribble from the sides of her mouth, Julie smiled at completion of Round One.

 “I wish we had access to that water bed.”

Lincoln grinned and told her they did; the boat was berthed along the wharf, waiting for its owner to pick up tomorrow. “Want to hit the water bed?”

She beamed.

“Okay, get dry while I grab my dressing gown for you and shorts and tee-shirt for me, towels and air freshener. We don’t want the owner and wife learning we’ve been foully using their favourite recreational area on their fabulous boat.”

*  *

During the live presentation of Round 10, Lincoln had eyed the three babes who were hostesses and smiled.

Obviously, the person who’s picked them out was a tit man, or tit woman. If he won the contest, he’d like to suggest to studio chiefs that be permitted to go to the island with all three babes, submitting that the 1:3 ratio would excite followers of the show no end and a moralistic backlash would erupt around the globe, giving television and in particular Channel-8’s show unprecedented publicity.

Oh yeah?

He believed, however, the likelihood of him of winning the contest would be nil and the chance of him as supreme winner of being sent to the island with all three babes would also be rather unlikely.

Well, he unexpectedly emerged from the 10th show as winner. Now he was nervous. How the fuck could he stay alone with a woman on the island if he won the competition and think of anything to say to her. Then he smiled. It never would happen.




Chapter 3

Finals Night, a gala event, was televised live at the Port Entertainment Dome before an invitation-only audience of 800 plus outside working media representatives covering the even for various print publications.

The contestants were required to wear dark suits and a plain pale blue tie provided to each contestant

When the five contestants gathered back-stage, Lincoln introduced his parents to Julie and to her somewhat older but swell-looking husband Graham who had an impressive build and, interestingly, he kept glancing at other women – or was it their male partners? Lincoln had no idea.

Lincoln’s parents and sister Mackenzie had been stunned to learn he’d been rushed in as a replacement contestant. They had been in the studio audience to watch him win the 10th round and again to watch him win third place in the semi-final to be one of the five to make it to the final.

The show had already been his family’s favourite show on TV at present and they erupted in astonishment when Lincoln hit them with a bombshell about his involvement because of a sudden withdrawal.

Stella Moss = watched disbelievingly at the lush way that Julie kissed her son right in front of husband Graham and Stella’s worse fears were realized when Mackenzie whispered her impression of those two: “Mum, my brother has been knocking off adorable Julie.”

Shannon arrived with her parents and Lincoln noticed Shannon’s mother Rebecca kept on flicking glances between her daughter and him and after Shannon pecked his cheek her mother appeared to become displeased with her daughter.  What was that about?

The atmosphere in the larger venue was electrifying as there had been a cocktail party beforehand for invited guests to prime them for the occasion.

The contestants were confined to the dressing and make-up area and forbidden to touch alcohol.

Lincoln was interested to note that Karl Schmidt, supposedly a formidable contestant, rushed off to the toilet and returned, perspiring and smelling faintly of vomit.

Others noticed the smell of vomit and none of the contestants touched food or coffee or even water after that.

Two academic looking contestants, high-voiced researcher Bobby Michelson and university lecturer Joseph Truman, appeared very relaxed and sitting in what appeared to be a trance.

Speculation in the media had generally picked radio talkback host Winslow Stott as the hot favourite.

Just before the contestants went on-stage, Karl and Joseph went off for a pee or to throw up, or both.

Presenter Cecil Bainbridge introduced the contestants and said it had been a riveting contest over the 10 weeks and the semi-final had been incredibly tense and hard-fought. The winner of the final would win $100,000 and his chosen companion of one of the three contest hostesses would receive $100,000 if they survived three weeks on the island without either one of that radioing to be taken back to civilization before 4:00 pm on the sixth day of being on the island.

Each contestant was called forward to make his choice of partner if he won, and to explain his reason for his choice.

Joseph Truman said his choice was Milly because she looked athletic and relaxed and that suggested she would be a perfect companion on an uninhabited island.

Karl Schmidt said he picked Marama because she looked lively, had such a sweet voice and was a fan of modern music.

Winslow Stott said he’d favoured Marama because she grew up in a rural Maori community and as such could show him how to survive in a lonely environment and would look increasingly attractive to him as Paradise worked its magic on them.

Bobby Michelson said Milly best appealed to him because he thought of the three she’d be the one least interested in indulging in sex, especially with him. (Lincoln wondered was he gay; well the name Bobby placed him half-way there).

As Lincoln, last of the five was called forward, his mum buried her face in Ruben’s shoulder and whispered, “How embarrassing, he’s going for Marama too and will announce he picked her because she has the biggest boobs. I’ll kill him if he calls them tits.”

Lincoln Moss said, “My choice is Silver. She’s nice looking, a tad overweight and rather pale and says she doesn’t really do anything exciting. That suggested to me a stable, wholesome woman, she’d be just the type to last six nights with me as a stranger on an uninhabited island. Her interests are cooking, home-making and looking after people. I rest my case.”

Woman yelled their approval when Lincoln received the customary applause while his mum, shaking her head, muttered who wrote that script for him?

The small orchestra then played the opening bars of the game show’s theme music, a jazzed-up version of ‘Island in the Sun’ and the show was underway.

Contestants were each asked five questions in the first round, worth three points each, or a deduction of three points for the wrong answer or not being answered.

Four of the contestants ended that round with 12 points and Joseph scored six points


During the break on stage Shannon commiserated with Joseph, saying the questions in the next round might swing his way and she congratulated the other four contestants evenly.

“You’re so lovely, Shannon,” Marama said, as Shannon clasped the nervous Silver in her arms, attempting to sooth her as she was shaking.

The show resumed and just as Cecil completed his preamble including re-introducing the finalists, a masked man in a mask burst in from backstage wielding a baseball bat.

At first this appeared to be part of entertainment.

“Bitch,” the man shouted, hitting Silver on the arm violently.

She screamed and fell to the ground.

Some horrified women in the audience screamed.

“No!” screamed Shannon, throwing herself over the downed woman.

The attacker swore and diverted the blow that appeared aimed for Silver’s head and raised the bat to thump Shannon viciously.

Two security guards who’d rushed on-stage tackled the intruder and of the guards freed the bat from the attacker’s grip.

“Cut the camera, run two ad-breaks consecutively,” Eve shouted into her microphone from the control room.

“Fred, call an ambulance first, then the police,” she instructed the stage manager.

The lights dimmed.

“Everyone please keep calm. This was unexpected; we’ll resume in a few minutes,” boomed the voice of Eve. “Please remain in your seats.”


Although suffering a fracture, a piece of bone having pierced the skin, Silver remained conscious and was able to talk coherently, presumably shock dulling the pain.

“He’s my ex-boyfriend, Shaun,” she said in a low voice to the Channel-8 TV news interviewer. “He becomes also insanely jealous which is why I dumped him almost a month back.”

“You can’t fly out on Monday with that injury,” said the interviewer. “My understanding is the rules allow you to nominate a substitute who they are confident about, in the event of a calamity. This is one hell of a calamity for you.”

“I wouldn’t want to be on an island injured,” Silver sobbed. “I want my mother.”

“So, there’s no substitute?”

“I’ll think about it – no, send her. She saved my life and probably hers was at great risk; I want her to go in my place.”

Shannon realized in horror Silver was pointing at her with her good arm.


“Yes, the rules allow for it,” Julie said, arriving unnoticed.

“Will you people remove yourselves,” said a woman angrily. She was bandaging a pressure pad over Silver’s arm injury to stem the blood flow.

“Everyone on the stage, stepped back and return to your positions” J.B called. “Dan, you’re head of legal. What is the situation?”

“Julie drafted the rules – we best let her explain.”

Julie didn’t bother to wait to be asked. “Let the show go on – it will be fine, I’m certain of that. You have a national audience waiting, J.B.”

J.B sweated and narrowed his gaze. “Julie, are you certain we can proceed without being legal crucified?”


J.B. turned to the control room and raised the thumb of both hands.

“We’re going live one-minute from now,” Eve’s voice boomed.

“Cedric,” J.B. called. “Announce what happened briefly but for fuck sake emphasize that Silver will be okay and had nominated Shannon Moss as her replacement. Don’t mention the legal aspects as that will only complicate things. Just get on with it. Don and Julie, come with me.”

Two back-of-stage guys arrived with a scaffolding plank. Silver was lifted on to it and carried off-stage.”

“Christ, was a mess,” Cedric moaned.

“Cedric, do well here and this will be your finest hour,” Shannon urged. “Your motto has always been professionalism first and foremost.”

“I’ve never said that in my life.”

“Well it’s your motto now.”

Addressing the five contestants, she said, “Seven seconds to go. Good luck guys – focus on getting to that island and earning 100 G’s.”

Four finalists gave Shannon the thumbs up, whereas Lincoln looked at her dumbly.

“Quiet everyone,” Eve roared. The red light in the control box went on and the orchestra played the opening bars of the theme.

*  *

J.B. was calm now.

“Give it to me slowly Julie. What is our situation?”

“Rule 11-d prohibits any employee on the payroll of Channel-8 Holdings Inc and its subsidiaries from participating in the Contest for prize-money or any other benefits.”

J.B. turned livid.

 “Christ, you told me we were okay with Shannon.”

“We are. Shannon is engaged by us on contract as an independent contractor. Under a Court-tested ruling gained by the Department of Inland Revenue, any person engaged as an independent contractor and registered for GST under that provision is deemed not to be an employee.”


“What she says is true. Anyway, who’s going to complain or sue?”

“The runner-up to the winner or perhaps a hostess who misses out,” J.B. scowled.

Julie said calmly, “The rules don’t state the calamity substitute must be named as one of the other two hostesses because I had assumed the contest winner may have objections going to the island with either of the other two hostesses after having announced his reasons for his choice, that it would be better that she named someone she believed she could trust to fill the role adequately.”

“In short. Rule 12-b states that in the event of the hostess chosen by the contest winner being unable to go to the island as the winner’s companion for whatever reason, that hostess may nominate as her substitute either one of the other two hostesses or a female within three years on either side of her age that she trusts and is approved by the show’s producer and the contest winner to be her substitute.”

“Rule 12-e in short states that the approved substitute must sign a legally-binding document agreeing that the $100,000 due to be handed to the substitute if qualifying in meeting all conditions at the end of the stay of six nights on Ecstasy Island will be split equally with the hostess who nominated her substitute.”

“That’s brilliant, brilliant Julie,” J.B. enthused, hugging Julie.

“This unfortunate calamity will nevertheless push publicity for the show. Pity the guy who picked Silver won’t win it because Shannon would have been a fabulous companion for any guy on a deserted island.”

Dan said he couldn’t agree that Lincoln wouldn’t win as it depended on the luck of the draw of questions plus the knowledge of the contestants.

“Anyway, Lincoln Moss now has enormous incentive to win. I happen to know that Lincoln and Shannon have a thing going between them.”

“You mean they are lovers?” J. B. asked.

“No, that will occur on the island.”

J.B. said he needed to sit down.

“Dan, this is going to get bigger than big. That Lincoln guy just has to win. Let us pray,”



Chapter 4

Cedric apologized to the live audience for the delay and said the interruption filming would be cut from the video to be sent to participating broadcasters and any reference to it but it would appear in news reports and clips of the incidence would probably run on TV news programs internationally.

“You probably saw a masked man with a baseball bat rush on stage and heavily smack one of our hostesses on the arm. Well, poor Silver, a bone in her arm is badly broken. She’s withdrawn and has nominated as her replacement this lovely lady who has been their minder, Shannon Maple. It was Shannon who heroically threw herself over the fallen victim, possibly saving her life. Silver is waiting for an ambulance to arrive and our guards have secured the assailant, who is Silver’s ex-boyfriend.”

Cedric checked the time. “Now on with this show. Shannon, you work on contract as a spotter for this studio and have recruited most of the finalist in this contest. Tell is very briefly about yourself.”

“I’m twenty-five, looking for Mr Right, love the gym and swimming, boating, music, fine dining and the movies, oh and I watch TV enthusiastically of course.”

“Does this contestant who’s accepted you as his island partner, should he win, appear to be Mr Right?”

“I wouldn’t think so. He doesn’t know how to talk to women.”

“Pardon me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Right, what a strange thing to say. Take you seat please Shannon. We are doing okay for time. As programmed, I’ll ask each contestant five questions, with three points being awarded for each correct question. If a candidate fails to answer a question correctly and I say failed, the other four may attempt the question, the one pressing his or her buzzer first wins the right to answer and a correct answer earns two points; or they lose two points if the answer is incorrect.”

It was an intense encounter, each contestant failing on one question, each time the audience groaning.

Bobby Michelson failed to answer probably the most difficult question, how did the favourite cat die in a poem by Thomas Gray of ‘Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard fame’? The answer was Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes.

Lincoln’s failure came when he had no idea what was a grimalkin (an old cat, usually female, or a crotchety old woman).

 Karl Schmidt appeared to be going to push his button and attempt to answer but sat back in his chair on one question. He would later admit he knew the answer, but his confidence faltered, a fatal outcome.

Joseph Truman, was asked the final question of that round, and would win the contest if he answered correctly. Joseph’s eyes lit in triumph and he waved a fist in premature triumph when asked what was the world’s largest forest. He crowed, “The Amazon Rain Forest.”

He looked shattered when Cedric said no.

Winslow Stott and Lincoln pushed their buttons and while Cedric said he thought Lincoln’s light flashed on first he called to the control room for confirmation. A film clip appeared on the screen behind the contests and showed in slow motion the flash of Lincoln’s button coming on first.


The Taiga in Northern Russia.”

“Correct, would that had been your answered Winslow?”

He nodded, choked up, unable to speak.

“I declare Lincoln Moss, a 28-year-old Aucklander who operates a small boat engine performance testing service, the winner of Channel-8’s ‘Ecstasy Island Paradise for Two Game Show’. All five finalists receive US$5000 but Lincoln gets more. Details of that after this short break,” Cedric said, and the orchestra broke into an even more rousing version of the theme music.

 “Congratulations, Lincoln,” Eva’s voice boomed through the sound system. “Well done, Belinda and Joseph. Shannon stand by Cedric who will call Lincoln down to you. Just a two-minute gusty interview Cedric and then provide commentary for the clip as it screens, just as we rehearsed.”

Cedric gave her two thumbs out, indicating he’d taken instructions on board.

B.J. came on stage with Dan to congratulate all three finalists and slapped Lincoln on the back. “You’re going to be famous, young man.”

“Yeah but within a week returning from the island I’ll be a nobody again.”

“But with a hundred thousand bucks and perhaps doubling that with appearance money, exclusive interviews and endorsements you could have a pile of money. You’ll need a commercial manager – we’ll give you free access to our hot-shot young lawyer Julie for, um, ten hours a week – after that you’ll be charged fees.”

Lincoln almost gagged. “Free access?”

“It means you can call on her 24/7 as a legal consultant for up to ten hours a week. Go beyond that and you’ll pay, um, probably $350 an hour but we’ll discount that.”

“That’s amazing. Thank you, J. B.,”

“It’s nothing, young man. On the island, you and Shannon will make this TV station number one in the country – at fucking last. We’ll be awash with money. We’re on countdown – must congratulate Shannon. We’ll probably get a cool million selling screening rights of your and Shannon’s wedding. Thanks, several millions, Lincoln.”

Lincoln watched J.B. scramble downed the aisle of the tiered seats to Shannon, thinking the guy was on some sort of Speed. Shannon would rather cope with a STD than marry him if she had the choice.  Yuk, what he meant was Shannon would choose to remain an unfulfilled spinster than marry him if that was the choice. He had more chance of Graham divorcing Julie and casting her his way than getting to the altar with Shannon whose problem was she didn’t know how to relate romantically with a sex-focused young guy.

J.B. reached Shannon just after Julie had arrived with Shannon’s parents to congratulate their daughter. Later when on the island, Shannon would recall that family moment of elation. Her father kissed her and said that as a lawyer with the best of creative fiddling he’d take at least six months to earn what Shannon would earn by staying on an island six days with Lincoln and being involved in subsequent fee-earning activity. She’d reminded her father she’d only retain half of that amount as the other half would go to the unfortunate Silver. He father told her to send him a copy of that contract and he’d examine that 50-50 payment clause minutely, getting colleague’s opinion as well. She told him to forget it.

Shannon’s mother was even more revolting. “Oh darling,” she waxed. “You have been blessed. Spending six nights in sin on an island with that man – society will demand he marries you. Look at his forehead, look at his eyes and his physique and the teeth and straight back. He’s perfect to produce my grandchildren.”

Then J.B. arrived and was equally gross. “Congratulations my superb beauty,” he gushed. “The Wonder Woman of this company who’s going to make millions for us.”

“We’ll probably pull half a million by giving your engagement announcement exclusive to a women’s magazine and we’ll easy recoup a million from selling clips of the wedding ceremony which we’ll probably broadcast live.”

“Thirty seconds, take your places. Be quiet everyone,” Eve bellowed, cutting off Shannon’s perfect opportunity to rebut all that nonsensical talk about her and Lincoln.

The orchestra blared and the camera showed Cedric taking Shannon round the waist and turning back on camera called, “Come down here winner of our hugely popular game show contest Lincoln Moss and meet your island companion.”

The camera caught Lincoln as he rose. He bounded down the steps three at the time and vaulted over the guard rail leading to the stage and landing with beautiful balance and walking three paces to be with Cedric and Shannon, now turned to face the main cameras.

“Congratulations Lincoln, that was a real fighting win; it was so very close,” Shannon said.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Aren’t you two going to kiss?” Cedric said, disbelievingly.

“I suppose so, give us your lips Shannon.”

Shannon bent towards him. He kissed her briefly on the cheek.

Dismayed, Cedric shot between them and said, “Just look up at the big screen. Here’s what you get.”

The film opened with a camera shot of a sea plane filmed from in a helicopter closing in on a tropical island framed by an incredibly blue sea. The sound track played Hawaiian music.

“This will be your home for six nights from this next week,” Cedric said. “It’s one of the 216 uninhabited islands of the Fijian Group – uninhabited because they are too small, have no water supplies or are considered too far from commercial and other service centres or have difficulty supporting crops.  We’ll call this unnamed island Ecstasy Island because of its white sands and palms. It measures almost twelve acres in area and is practically pest free. Its location remains secret so that you are not disturbed by the media or nosy tourists.”

“With the authority of the Fijian Government, we have stocked the island with food supplies, plenty of bottled water, an electricity generator with plenty of fuel plus a backup generator, reading material, two fishing kayaks – there are no sharks within the outer reef apart from harmless sand sharks and also there’s a two-person sailing catamaran and two jet-skis at your disposal.”

“You have a swanky native hut called a bure plus a temporary kitchen/storeroom and a double hammock has been rigged for you two between two trees. There will be no newspapers, no TV but there is a CD player with 200 CDs, some of deserted island music plus a pile of wholesome DVD movies.”

“And so, this is your island you two on which you will be lost to the world for six nights. Come back still talking to each other and smiling, with no evidence of hostility and you’ll have completed the conditions of this game show in full. Lincoln, you’ll be handed $100,000 and Shannon you and the unfortunate Silver with her broken arm will evenly split the other $100,000.”

“What are you thinking Sharon?”

“Ecstasy Island looks beautiful, paradise in a painted ocean. I must go shopping tomorrow for sun glasses, sun cream and sun hats.”

“What, no bikinis?”

“Oh yes, for the evening film transmission, of course. Thank you for that, Cedric.”


“It looks pretty cool. I’ll miss having a beer with the guys and watching sport on TV. I guess I can always chase Shannon round the island if I become bored.”

Cedric asked why he’d want to do that.

“She doesn’t like me much, so she’ll run like hell to escape. Should be quite a sport.”


“I must remember to buy pepper spray tomorrow.”

“Um, so our happy couple. We at Channel-8 wish you every success. If you do come through this hideaway, fulfilling all requirements, your enormous cash prizes will be awarded on a special show to screen at 7:30 on the Saturday evening after you return.”

“Good night New Zealand – and the World.”

Cedric hissed to Shannon and Lincoln to wave to the cheering audience at the side of the main filming camera.

They obliged him.

*  *  *

The couple’s parents got along exceptionally well but dined without their children. The two men talked at length about possible investment opportunities for Shannon and Lincoln while the two women fantasized about grandchildren.

As soon as the show had finished, Lincoln just disappeared. No one saw him leave so he couldn’t be invited to the big party for the production team. After taking husband Graham home, Julie drove Shannon to be party venue and half an hour later disappeared.

Eve began chatting to Shannon, more people joined the group and soon they were having a party within a party.

Shannon rode home in a cab later, yawning and no longer thinking about Julie’s whereabouts, assuming her friend was off somewhere doing the dirty on her husband.

Earlier, Lincoln lay on an air mattress on his jetty just in front of this small outdoor bar and barbeque that served for staff parties and entertaining clients.  He never minded being here alone, coping uncaringly with the hum of waterfront machinery, the slapping of water against the piles and the occasional sound of raucous laughter and insane shouting from parties in nearby blocks of apartments or aboard boats. To him, this indicated the city was alive and well.

He heard a glass clink at the bar and wondering had a cat jumped up. He decided he’d better have a look and sat up, only to find a glass being held almost under his nose.

“Fill me up, buddy.”


“I’ve come to share your evening.”

“Your husband is still in the country. Our agreement…”

“I’m only here for a drink, sweetie. If you were thinking you were getting something else you’re stiff out of luck. Move over.”

The soft sound of light classical orchestra music drift from the outdoor speakers. The little wavelets slapping against the piles made music in her ears. The farther off sounds weren’t too bad. She heard some woman screaming out, “Harder, harder” and wondered what was going on there.

“What’s the wine?”

“A Gewurztraminer from Rippon Vineyard overlooking Lake Wanaka.”

“It’s beautiful. Wonder what you’ll be stocked up with on the island?”

“Probably no booze.”

“Oh yes, the allocation called for supplies equal to four bottles of beer a day and three bottles of wine a day, two bottles of vodka and one of rum and a bottle of liqueur. It’s a luxury six night stay you are having, my man. How long do you think Shannon will managed to hold out on you?”

“Two days’ tops,” he scowled. “I don’t suspect luck will come my way and she’ll manage to avoid me. How long do you think?”

“Three hours, five at the most.”

“Bet me twenty bucks, closest to the time of arrival wins?”

“Then I’ll be you won’t get lucky on the first day.”

“Oh yeah? Good one, Julie. Okay I accept that bet.”

They chatted and eventually Julie stood and said she’d cook something.

“There’s steak, eggs and tomatoes in the fridge and frozen fries in the freeze.”

“Great, you start the barbie.”


Lincoln smacked his lips in appreciation. It had been a lovely supper.

“That was superb.”

“Thanks, I’ll clear away.”

“Just dump everything on the bar. I’ll clear away in the morning. What now?”

“I don’t really know. I’ve had enough to drink.”

“Want to go skinny dipping.”

“No – there may be sharks or conger eels. I just happy to sprawl here and relax; I like your choice of music.”

Lincoln didn’t reply. Instead he went down to the end of the mattress, knelt down and began sucking Julie’s smaller toes.’



“Nothing, don’t stop.”

A few minutes later he’s reached her panties, and was licking the wet patch.



“I want you to stop unless you are going to finish what you’ve started.”

He didn’t answer and his tongue pushed the cotton of her white panties into her slit. Julie spread and raised her legs and he pulled off her panties.

She held on to her ankles up high and his tongue now ran circles around the sensitive perimeter of her smaller orifice. The tongue slipped away and began teasing around her pussy and when she began writhing he dipped his tongue in deeply and waggled it around.

She groaned.

His finger flicked her clit twice and she sighed, wetting his face with her release.

Lincoln lowered over her and she felt him push in.

“My tits, what about my tits,” she whimpered, highly aroused and really not wanting him to delay.

“Nah, not now – I don’t want to over-excited myself and get it off early.”

For the next hour and a half, they played with each other.

Whenever Julie’s breathing rate increased Lincoln would slow right down and talk to her about aspects of his boating testing business. When she reached down to cup his balls he knew her desire to climax had diminished.

“You’re not wearing a rubber.”

“I’ve decided to trust you,” he said.

“I’m confident I’m clean because Graham is very careful as one would expect an accountant to be when overseas visiting clients who have investments here. I’m also well inside my safe time at present. I’ve been monitoring it to establish my pattern as we’ve decided to try for a family early in the winter.”

“Would you’re prefer I don’t shoot a load inside you?”

“This evening is fine. Give me the lot.”

“Later, I think. You’re not becoming physically uncomfortable, are you?”

“I will be tender there tomorrow but Graham will think I was dancing too wildly at the party. Any way we don’t do it often; I sometimes wonder if he’s half gay.”

“Does he know you have other men?”

“He suspects I would think but we make a point of never talking about it. If he didn’t have these assignments overseas I probably wouldn’t be promiscuous. He’s pretty good at it; my complaint is it’s not nearly enough for this girl.”

Lincoln told Julie she was more than good at it.

She squeezed him, indicating she appreciate being told that and probably wondering whether to asked if she’d made it to his top five or even top three.

Julie remained silent during their next rest until she cupped his balls. “Would you like to butt fuck me?”

There was enough light for him to see her face, her expression. He looked and remained silent.

“Have I offended you?”

“No, just surprised me. I’ve never done it – never been with a woman who expressed an interest. I’ve thought one day long after I married my wife would offer her butt to mark a wedding anniversary of something and I’d do it then. Have you done it?”

Julie’s eyes flashed in the dim light.


“Only the once. My room-mate at law school during our first year suggested we have a whore’s night. We invited three guys were knew very well, bought a wad of condoms and after filling them we booze told them to gently ravish us, choosing any holes they wished. After that night, I was no longer an anal virgin several times over but I’d not had it in there since, although coming close two or three times.”

“That’s very interesting I…On no, here’s Moby Dick about to spout,” Lincoln cried.

And later, “Frig your clit and come with me.”

“Coming, coming. Aaaaaarrrrgghh!” groaned Julie as they climaxed together almost perfectly.

When Lincoln rolled off her she marvelled, “Christ, I’m awash. I’ve never had it like this and some of it is from me. It’s also the longest hump I’ve ever had.”

An hour later, showered and aghast it was well after midnight, Julie said she’d better go, adding occasionally it was about the time she’d arrived home from an office party.

“You look exhausted. I’ll drive you home and get a cab back.”

“It will be risky, but I’ll drive home as I feel capable. I’m more exhausted that drunk. You are perhaps the best fuck I’ve ever hand; you do it with authority and obviously knows what a girl wants.”

Lincoln grinned and he smacked her backside, steering her toward her car.


Shannon had a great evening, finding unequivocally that she had become a member of the inner circle. B.J. had two dances with her, without any attempt at petting. Eve insisted on having a dance and Shannon had to work her arms like an octopus to fend her pussy from attempted finger penetration.

“I love you Shannon,” Eve sobbed. “I admire you for not submitting to me in the hope of winning promotion. My dear, you’ll get there through sheer talent. We haven’t had anyone like you for some years. Welcome aboard.”

Well, that dance was worthwhile, Shannon decided.

B.J.’s wife beckoned her over.

“Good evening, Shannon. My name is Violet. Jack tells me you are a rising star. Now this is extremely confidential between you and me – understand.

Shannon nodded, wide-eyed.

“Don’t allow him to put his dick into you, Shannon. Please?”

“Violet but I’m not everyone’s piece of meat. If he tries that on me, I’ll cut it off.”

“Well said, darling. Little wonder everyone appears to have confidence in you.”

During the remainder of her time at the party Shannon experienced four attempted pick-ups by younger men. That was getting out of hand but she glowed in pleasure because previously she’d never had more than one pick-up attempt an entire evening.

She decided to go home; her parents would be asleep in her bed She shared the sofa with her neighbour’s cat Binky, who was persistent squatter.

Shannon thought about the evening. It had come within an ace of being an on-screen disaster for the channel and for the company. J.B. had told her during the dance that her heroic actions would most likely be recognized by the board.

She’d gained media experience big time. Apart from the Channel-8 news interview, she’d been interviewed by a Channel I news team and had spoken to four newspaper reporters and posed for photographs and then finished with two telephone interviews with radio stations. What a fuss!

When congratulating her, Dan Bishop had told her Julie had done a magnificent job in drafting the contracts and rules for the show. The wording she’d chosen, which Dan had approved, allowed Shannon to be substituted within the rules. B.J. was well-pleased.

Dan said between them, she and Julie had saved the day and that she must review the situation with Julie in the morning to ensure their recalls of the dreadful situation matched when they called to make fuller statements to the police and perhaps to defence lawyers.

Julie the sly adulteress, Shannon speculated and wondered who tonight’s guy was, Lincoln? Well, he wasn’t around either, which was by design or simply a coincidence. God, he was just the type Julie would go for, reasonably tall and strongly built with more than just a touch of sexiness about him.

Well, she’d not mention her suspicions. If she was wrong, Julie would ridicule her. If she was right, well Julie would tell her sooner or later.

Earlier, she’d looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she cleaned her teeth, wearing only panties which was her normal night attire. Lincoln would be seeing a lot of her breasts, and her totally shaven pussy. She wasn’t going to live on the so-called Ecstasy Island in the tropics wearing clothes all day and night, no way.

She held out her right breast and murmured, ‘Would you like to suck on this Mr Tit Man?’

Dropping it she scowled. The thought of him ravishing Julie’s breasts – if that was what he’d done – made her feel unsteady at the knees. She changed that by declaring that no way would he get near her, unless she was drunk and excited and randy all at the same time which was possible, being just with him on the island and quite possibly sex with him could send her over the moon. She’d be a fool not to recognize that.

*  *  *

Next morning, being reminded physically the real meaning of being spent, Lincoln sat on a deck chair on the upstairs deck outside the lounge and looked down on to his jetty, noticing Julie’s panties on the decking where she’d tossed them the previous night. He began reading something Julie probably had designed: Rules on Living on Ecstasy Island.

They were pretty straight-forward –be kind and respect each other at all times and perform the scheduled TV report each evening to be beamed by satellite to Channel-8 for a televised program report and to confirm to officials that everything on the island was okay. They were to remain within the outer reef when using the water craft and when scuba diving over the edge of the outer reef must only do so together, each carrying a spear gun and a shark deterrent stick.

Another sheet detailed instructions for operating the power supply from the small generator, which the suggestion if there was nothing in the freezer, they could safely turn off the generator over-night.

Another outline instructions for operating the emergency radio and its back-up set. They would be pre-set for the regional marine surveillance and radio station located less than 40 miles from them. A search and rescue boat was based there.

“That’s hand and will takes care of Shannon’s unexpected pregnancy,” Lincoln said aloud, grinning. “More likely a call-out would result in her cutting off my dick with our carving knife in anticipation of possible carnal attack.”

Another sheet outlined use of the medical kit and warned of the need for care in using the medical dictionary as wrong diagnoses could cause problems.

Finally, there was the procedures for emergency evacuation.

Well done Julie, he acknowledged. The emergency evacuation explained they could reach an inhabited island 17 miles due north on their surf skis. Standing on the rise in front of the cookhouse they would see Barnardo Island on a clear day, especially in early morning. They should carry extra fuel with them and not attempt that journey in rough seas.

On Monday morning, Lincoln visited a psychologist’s consulting rooms by appointment where the guy talked to him about ‘Lincoln’s relationship with the outdoors’, as he termed it, his beliefs about his relationship with women, had he any concerns about spending a week as a latter-day Robinson Crusoe on an island and were they any concerns about sharing that time with a woman on that island.

When that discussion ended Ben Turin, the psychologist, asked, “What sort of relationship do you expect to have on the island with Miss Maple?”

Lincoln, aware that Shannon had an appointment that morning at the same consultancy, decided not to be flippant.

“A brother-sister relationship – a sharing and caring type because we’ll both be aware that we must co-exist or that’s the end of our life in Paradise and we blow suitcase full of big bucks.”

“Very good, a pleasing reply,” smiled Ben, who still smiling turned the knife. “Would you consider taking Miss Maple by force?”

Lincoln knew this guy was probing for behavioural traits so gave him one.

He leapt to his feet, drew back his fist and said: “You’re questioning my integrity with a woman; take that back or I’ll whack you one.”

“No, please resume you seat. I apologize. I ought to have worked up to that question.”

Lincoln smiled inwardly thinking he had this skinny little fellow sussed. But the worm nipped.

“Are you normally that aggressive?”

Before thinking Lincoln said, “No but I’m likely to change if someone takes a swipe at my relationship with my girlfriend.”

“Do you regard Miss Maple as your girlfriend?”


How did that sod worm that admission from him? Lincoln frowned.

“Then you expect to have sexual relations with her on the island.”

“Provided she is willing.”

“And if she’s not.”

“Then it’s back to masturbation, okay?”

Ben lowered his gaze, hiding a smile.

“Well, excuse me for a moment, Lincoln.” He dialled three digits on the phone and said, “We’re finished here.”

Ben turned to Lincoln when putting down the phone.

“We have a few minutes to kill before a joint session. Coffee?”


Shannon shook hands with Mel Dove thinking this was a waste of time; she and Lincoln were stable personalities, intelligent and capable of dealing with any personal issues without outside assistance.

“Shannon, you may feel this interview is unnecessary but I assure you dealing with any personal conflict on a remote island where you are separated from everyone else is far different that dealing with it on your home patch. Do you accept that?”

“Yes, of course.”

“What is your true relationship with Mr Moss.”

“I only have the one relationship with him.”

“Yes, of course. That was a polite way of urging you to be frank with him.”

“Frank, how frank?

“Take me all the way, Shannon.”

“The truth is I’d like to go to bed with him – you’d probably have a similar thought when you see him. But his manner is rather too abrasive for me. Too curt and dismissive. I summed it up talking to my friend about it – he doesn’t know how to talk to women. I met his mother again socially last night and found her to be rather hardnosed. While she appears pleasant, I never heard her make one complimentary remark to anyone. She’s very pragmatic, I would think.”

“Then you haven’t had sex with him.”

“No, but no doubt I will on the island. I can’t imagine attempting to satisfy myself for six lonely nights when there’s a top-notch male, in terms of sex, ready to be giving me all the satisfaction I need, perhaps more.”

“Really, is that how you think?”

“I’m not here to waste our time, Mel.”

“No, of course not. Anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“No, I don’t think so. Oh, yes, one thing – he has an admitted breast fetish.”

“Really, you mean grabbing them?”

“I really don’t know about that. It’s just the way he looks at them…with enthusiasm perhaps best describes it.”

“And have you felt your breasts have been threatened by him?”

“No, he’s no mauler or rapist – not be a long shot.”

“I see.”

“Wait till you see him, Mel. He’s one of those rare types that most women would like to cuddle.”

“And take to bed?”


“If you two have a row on the island, what do you think will happen?”

“It will end with me flouncing off to my bed, possibly to cry. I expect he will throw stones into the sea to vent any anger.”

“Is that all.”

“Yes, I don’t believe for a moment he’ll hit me, if that’s what you are angling for me to say.”

“It was. You have a sharp mind. From what you have told me, I don’t believe you two will get bored, even if there’s no romance going on.”

“I don’t believe so either. I’ll feel protected with him around.”

The phone went. “Just finishing. Give me five minutes.”

“It’s my role to assess whether you should be going to this island and live in sole isolation with Lincoln Moss. If either I or my colleague Ben Turin have any doubts, the studio will insist on secretly placing a married couple on the island with you to act as minders. What have you to say about that?”

“Tell Dan Bishop who would have hired you to stop wasting the studio’s money. I’m absolutely confident I’ll have a happy time on the island and I promise not to harm Lincoln Moss. Okay?”

“An excellent assurance, thank you Shannon. Please come through to our meeting room.”

Lincoln and his inquisitor were already in the room. Shannon bounced straight up to him, kissed him on the lips, winked and ran a hand down his chest and cooed. “Good morning, island buddy.”

“Hi sweetie; how’s it going?”

That response killed the admiring gaze of Mel Dove who was meeting Lincoln for the first time, giving Shannon satisfaction that Mel had learned the truth.

Even better, Lincoln’s gaze was now focused in Mel’s shirtfront and her face was now pink.

Walking to the meeting room Mel had said with authority that Shannon had to realize that many men looked at women’s breasts with a vacant gaze. Mel would now realize Lincoln’s gaze was anything but vacant.

Mel obviously was acting as if she were in charge. She said, “Ben has told me Lincoln that he has no worries about you coping on the island in isolation with Shannon, and after talking to Shannon, I’m left with only one concern which I noticed myself since coming into this room, and that’s your breast fetish.”

“Is that bad? I regard it as a healthy interest,” Lincoln smiled.

Ben coughed and pink returned to Mel’s face.

Mel continued. “What would be your reaction on the island if Shannon were to remove her bikini top?”

“I’d take a good gander and face the decision.”

“What decision?”

“Whether she was doing it for me or whether she was beginning her liberation.”

“Her liberation?” Ben asked, sounding puzzled.

“Yes, I expect within an hour of setting foot on the island we’ll both be walking around at least some of the day fully starkers. I’m so sure about this that I’m not packing swimming trunks.”


“He’s probably right, Ben. Why fight it?”

Mel asked from the outset would they establish rules of behaviour.

Shannon and Lincoln looked at each other and Shannon indicated with a slight wave for Lincoln to answer.

“Hell no, we both know how to behave in an acceptable fashion. We know not to fight as there’s only limited room to run and we won’t want to jeopardize the only companionship we have. Also. neither of us would wish to forfeit our large cash payments through behaving unacceptably.”


She said Lincoln had answered the question well, and when asked what was her main goal especially in the first couple of days, she answered it was to be learn skills in water sports from Lincoln,


“Prepare to blush, Mel. I want to nail Shannon as soon as possible to make life perfect in Paradise. I know her body wants me but her mind resists me. It’s up to me to woo her mind. Fortunately, this environment will work for both of us, it’s conducive for sex – great sex and learning the route to real sexual utopia.”

“Well, that’s the sort of comment I’d expect from a male whose true focus on a woman is on her breasts, but surely you have more noble ambitions.”

“No, there are few things more noble that nailing a woman after the chase.”


“I tend to agree with him, Mel.”

“Thank you for your opinion, Ben. Let’s hear from you Shannon.”

“I do believe men see that as being noble. We woman call it being nobbled. Is that because we can’t spell?”

Even Mel burst into laughter. She looked at Ben and he nodded.

“We agree to report we see no problems in respect of compatibility and behaviour. I’ll phone Dan in a few minutes who’s waiting for my call.”

The next day, Shannon and Lincoln had lunch with the studio’s locations manager, Silvia Smith who’d set-up the island retreat for the six-nights compatibility challenge.

She explained the set-up. Fruit and fresh vegetables would be landed on the island on the morning before their arrival and on Tuesday or Wednesday morning they’d wake up to find a watertight container of fruit and vegetables waiting on the reef of Half-moon Bay for them to retrieve. The island had never been settled, so only a few edible plants existed, most not being to their taste. Coconuts, bananas and papaya were available but not necessarily ready to eat. On Friday, they would return to Nandi.

Silvia spend most of the next ninety minutes briefing them and then, “Good luck, you’ll love it there; I’m so envious. Just remember, if you need help, call for it; don’t take chances. It’s late February but I’m told there’s little chance of a hurricane strike – the weather has been exceptionally stable this season. Don’t confuse a storm with a hurricane – branches and fronds fly off trees if it’s a hurricane and the seas become massively violent.”

“By that stage, however, you will have retreated to the top of the island to a wee reinforced shelter we’ve put there for that purpose. We expect to use this island for as long as the game show runs. You’ll hear weather reports on your emergency radio.”

Sylvia left, kissing them both.

As they reached the lift, Shannon snorted, “You didn’t stare at her breasts – they are monsters.”

“Monsters don’t interest me,” Lincoln said, stretching.

To her dismay, Shannon found she was staring at his chest.



Chapter 5

On the way to their island on Saturday, on the 8th day after Lincoln won the game show’s face-off final, he and Shannon and Lincoln looked down a few hundred feet from the airplane as they’d passed dozens of islands, from small dots to larger inhabited ones developed as resorts.

Their American pilot Chip Ranger finally said, “There’s the emergency marine station.”

He flew low and waggled the wings as they flew over. The radio crackled and then came the clear message.

“Blue Sea Marine Station calling Kentucky Casanova. Bringing in our romantic guests, eh Chip. Isn’t he a lucky boy?”

“Girls like it too, Pete. Get off the air. Look out for them, Pete.”

“Right. This is Blue Sea Marine Station tower signing off.”

A couple of minutes later Chip said, “There she is, Ecstasy Island.”

“But there are other islands around it, some close,” Shannon wailed.

“You wouldn’t want to be dumped on those – nothing much in the way of beaches, semi growth whereas Ecstasy with those lush looking palm trees and great reef enclosure could rightly be called paradise. See that higher island out to the north-west – that’s your nearest neighbours’ retreat, Eddie and Fran Karl-Heinz, a German couple, both writers. Their English is very basic but they’ll look after you if you strike trouble.”

Lincoln and Shannon stared at their island home for the next six nights, emotions high.

At first, they only saw it as 40ft-plus palms rising from the sea, but as they came closer black rocks became defined and behind that grey looking sand. They whispered their disappointment.

“I’m circling the island to head back into the wind for landing,” Chip said. “The sand looks messy on this side because of wind-blown flotsam from other islands ripped away in storms or is stuff dumped at sea. Paradise is on the other side, hidden by the palms.

The new-arrivals saw the emergency shelter dome in the middle of the island and the shape of half-moon bay. It looked great but still wouldn’t rate m being called paradise. 

Chip made a hard turn to the left and dipped lower. The sea plane came around the nor-eastern corner of the island and a good impression of a paradise lay in view.

Almost flawless white sands ringed the half-moon shaped inlet, some of the palms growing out of the sand. The multi-blue lagoon was only ruffled a little by a breeze and its size captivate the two arrivals, knowing that attractive stretch of water would be their aquatic playground for the next week.

“It’s magical.”

“Agreed,” Lincoln replied, reaching for Shannon’s hand and squeezing it; a full minute went by before she pulled her hand away, Chip calling out to tighten their seatbelts and prepare for a slightly bumpy landing.

The sea plane landed and taxied towards the reef. Shannon and Lincoln watched with interest as the Fijian-Indian crewman climbed on to the float, dove in and swam through the reef opening. Veering right, he climbed on to a jet-ski moored there and roared back to the aircraft.

“Here you are boss,” he said to Lincoln. “Take Miss Maple ashore and then return for your kit.”

There was a rack on the front of the watercraft. Lincoln had to make three trips to ferry everything to the beach where Shannon had waited, water lapping the legs of her white cut-offs filming him on a digital movie camera.

When he finally landed beached the jet-ski, he said with a warm smile, “You didn’t go exploring?”

“No, we’re in this together.”

They stood in the water. Lincoln placed his arm around her back. “I’m steadying you while you film,” he lied.

They waved at Chip who’d opened his side window to give them the thumbs up. The sea plane taxied out, turned and headed back towards them, gathering speed and lifted off, easily clearing the palms with a full-power roar.

Shannon looked puzzled. “Why is there wind out there and none in our lagoon?”

Lincoln explained it was because they were on the leeward side of the island, the higher land and trees behind their bay sheltering them from the prevailing wind.

“What’s that shed-thingy over there?”

“It houses the two jet skis. The catamaran will be somewhere up on the bank.”

“How do you know all these things? I didn’t hear you being told.”

“No one told me. It’s logically how things work at a beach.”

Because of the low level of the small shed, Lincoln had to squat inside the back of it to use the hand-winch to haul the jet-ski from the water-edge to position it alongside the second jet-ski.

“If that other one jet-ski mine?”

“If you wish,” he grinned. “We really don’t need ownership in paradise.”

“Well, how do we work it?”

“First one there gets the choice.”

They made two trips carrying their luggage and purchases at Nandi to the bure.

To their delight, it was a modernised replica of a traditional Fijian thatched single-room dwelling but with a lined interior and wood-plank floor.

Shannon said, “It’s rather small, don’t you think?”

“It’s adequate for sleeping and staying out of the rain; we’ll spend most of our time outside.”

“I know, don’t tell me: it’s how it’s done at the beach.”

“Exactly. I’ll take the bed on our left as the dawn sun will shine on to that bed, waking me. I’ll leave and attempt to return with fish to cook before waking you for breakfast.”

“You are a real Robinson Crusoe, Lincoln.”

He grinned and said to call him Tarzan and he’d call her Jane.

She said okay. He boggled at that; she also was capable of surprising.

“Where’s the bath and shower.”

“Behind you; it’s called a lagoon.”

Shannon appeared to bite back a comment and said mildly, “The toilet will be a hole in the ground I suppose?

“Yep, but it will have a crude seat. After two visits, you’ll forget about it being primitive.”

“You are primitive speaking in that manner.”

He grinned.

“If you remember from the briefing, there’s an outside sink behind the bure with a small reserve of water. We were told where the two rain-water holding tanks are located at both ends of the beach, under the rocks.”

“Oh yes, and to boil that water before drinking it.”

“Yes, and the briefing said there was a chemical toilet with proper seat placed under the palms.

“Oh, how did I miss such useful information?”

“You probably were thinking of more important things, such as would rainwater mess us the quality of your hair.”

Shannon smiled wickedly.

He said, “Your company has spent big money setting this up; it must be expecting the game who to continue its popularity for several seasons.”

“To increase creature comforts, I purchased that thick canvas tie-down sheet in Nandi to string between palms to catch rain-water and that collapsible canvas bucket is to rig up as a shower. But you’ll have to shower quickly – just a rinse, really, to remove the salt from your skin. You should first wash your hair in a bucket.”

“It does rain here, I hope.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“No, we were told the rainfall is much less away from the larger islands.”

“True, but the green vegetation of this island which includes hardwood trees and bamboo is called what?”


“No, a tropical rain-forest and that vegetation attracts rain – plenty of it, in this location usually in sudden and short downpours but also as mist and often showers from overcast skies lasting a few days. Tourist brochures and websites see only portray fine days with white-cloud enhanced blue skies.”

“Tarzan, you know everything.”

“Thanks Jane. You look happy.”

That comment surprized Shannon.

 She looked at him and blushed because of the intensity of his gaze and their eyes locked.

They went inland a few paces to check out their prefabricated cookhouse and storeroom.

“Ah, a gas stove, water supply gathered from the roof I suppose. The lighting is electric but can we turn off that noisy generator? We’ll not need it till dark.”

Lincoln checked the freezer under the fridge compartment.

“The longest we could turn it off is four hour until we polish off ice-cream, frozen prawns and scallops, chunks of lobster breasts, chicken pieces and chicken breasts and – oh God – look at these amazing steaks.”

“Tarzan, Jane will put up with the noisy generator. We’re in the tropics – let’s not take a risk with frozen food supplies. Coffee?”

“Yep, let’s have it in the shade of those palms on the beach. In the meantime, I’ll check out the catamaran. “I’d rather sail than spoil nature on a noisy jet-ski.”

“Me too, coffee coming up Tarzan and the pizza I bought in Nandi. It’s lunchtime.”

“Ah, great thinking Jane.”

Lincoln found the catamaran on a grassy clearing between the palms.

Returning, he took off his shirt and pulled out a small table and two chairs from a storage box beside the bure and sat back, waiting for lunch.

It arrived on a tray carried low so that Shannon’s bared breasts were not resting on it. Lincoln looked up, looked surprised and looked away quickly.

“Lincoln, look at me; I’ve decided I want you to look at me. The way you eye me makes me feel good and wanted.’

Lincoln though what does a guy do? In this instance, he did what he’s told.

When his eyes had nourished themselves, Lincoln said, “May I comment.”

“Yes, although I’d prefer you not to making revolting comments unless I’m revved up.”

Shannon had almost reached the table when he said they were exquisite architectural gems deserving to be admired till Earth froze over.

She lurched into the table, tipping it over and collapsing it and only just managing to keep the tray reasonably level.

“Great balancing act, I’ll get it.” Lincoln darted forward and pulled the collapsible table back into useable shape.


The tray landed safely and Shannon spread out the plates and drinks.

They sat, gazing out to the sea, eating pizza and drinking coffee, not talking. Not a word had been spoken since Lincoln’s astonishing accolade.

He’d finished first, wondering if he should have a beer, then remembered what they had agreed on when lounging in the pool at their motel in Nandi after the three-hour flight from Auckland. They stayed at the motel, in separate rooms, and were collected next morning for the flight to Ecstasy Island. They’d agreed to generally not touch alcohol before the sun was setting to help avoid over-indulgence.

The very last portion was lifted from Shannon’s plate to her mouth. She looked at him, soft-eyed he thought.

“I can scarcely believe those words that came from your mouth. That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me about myself.”

“I trying, attempting to get better.”

“You are doing so well. Did you find the catamaran?

Lincoln said aye and was told to launch it while she cleared the dishes and sorted out the dinner menu. “What would you like?”

“Will we be having sex?”

“Yes, after a few drinks.”

“In that case lobster and sparkling wine in celebration, then chicken salad.”

“Good, I’ll cook the chicken now in the electric pan as it has a timer. We’ll have cold children salad. It may be very late before we eat that, should things go well.”

“Sounds great. Don’t forget your wet suit and put plenty of sun cream on your face. The sun is at its peak for the day.”


It was almost 5:00 before the sailors returned, tired.

“I’d like a swim and a little nap. What time is sunset?”

Lincoln said he’d do some exploring. “Listen.”


“Parrots. They must be coming to life now the day is a little cooler. During our stay on the island, sun rise will be approximately 6:00 and it will set by 6:30. I wake you later for sundowners.”

After he left, Shannon washed her face and shaved around her crotch, although having done that maintenance only two nights earlier; she wanted the best possible presentation for her night of magic

Shannon expected a memorable night, the first of oodles of sex on Ecstasy Island. She lay on the bed, yawned and checked her watch, remaining set to NZ time and, with a yelp, remembered the first of the 5:30 daily TV transmissions. They’d checked how the system worked before going sailing, and now the real thing loomed.

“Lincoln!” she yelled.

 He ran to her yelling, “I know, the TV transmission.”

“Yes, come – there’s no time to change.”

She’d wrapped her sulu back on; he was still in his wet suit, the top half hanging down over his rump. They were in a mess.

“Glamorous beachcombers we are not,” Shannon grimaced, standing in the clearing at the low stake marked for them to pose and watched Lincoln fiddling to open the stainless-steel front of the box protecting the camera.

 “Hurry, thirty seconds to go. The auto system films for less than three minutes.”

“Got it,” he said and stepped back.

“Hold me around the shoulders and smile; I’ll do most of the talking.”

Looking relieved he replied, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I like talking.”

“No, I mean you want me to touch you and be seen doing that publicly?”

“For fuck sake stop pussyfooting, Lincoln, this is reality TV!”

“Speaking of pussy…”

“Shut up – we’re on!”

Lincoln put his arm around Shannon and immediately had his hand pulled off her left breast and placed some distance under it.

 “Hello New Zealand and the World,” cooed Shannon; she’d been rehearsed at the studios for this moment.

“I’m Shannon Maple. We are the winning beneficiaries of New Zealand TV Channel 8’s fabulously exciting Ecstasy Island Game Show. We have spent our first day here in Paradise on our best behaviour and developing compatible as this is our um first date. We want that $200,000 bucks of prize-money to split if we come out of this test without having ripped each other to pieces. Lincoln?”

“Hello World – um that sounds like the lyrics of a song. I’m Lincoln Moss, winner of the game show final. We’ve done nothing but stuff our mouths, washed down with alcohol and had almost continuous sex.”

“Nah, just kidding. This is the closest Shannon’s let me near her since we left Auckland. But I’m working on that. My thanks to Channel 8 and to the sponsors, Opossum Wool Bed Under-blankets, for this fabulous opportunity to nail – oops, I mean to co-habit in enjoyment as the only human inhabitants on this island, to learn how to become really friendly with Shannon to us to pass the compatibility challenge. Bye.”

Lincoln pulled his hand from around Shannon to wave and replaced it, this time cupping that breast. She allowed it remain there as she concentrated on the wrap up.

“Lincoln has been teaching me to sail today; I’m sure there are other things he can teach me.” She turned beetroot red and stammered, “I-I didn’t mean t-that!”

She giggled nervously and said, “This is Shannon and Lincoln on Ecstasy Island signing off. Goodbye.”

As a red filming light on the camera went out she turned on Lincoln furiously. “You had your hand on my breast, on that damn film clip for television screening and newspapers and magazines will download selected frames from it. My parents will see that. You pig!”

“Cool down, cool down,” he laughed.” Within a couple of days no one will remember that um accident.”

“But my parents will – they will be watching that transmission. Oh God, I hope the studio has the nous to cut that bit out.”

She began to cry and Lincoln hugged her, soothing her, saying everything would be all right.

She clung to him desperately. Lincoln, facing the camera, rolled his eyes and looked as if he’d rather be out sailing. It was only then the timer turned off the movie camera.

The camera had been programmed to run for twenty seconds before the red filming light came on and then for a full minute after the red light had gone out. Neither of the stressed couple in paradise heard the camera motor faintly whirling during those extended periods and how had they been told about that deception.

 “Come, have a wee lie down on the bed,” Lincoln said, carrying Shannon to the bure.

“Yes, I’d like that. You’re so strong, Lincoln.”

She felt his lips nuzzling the top of her face and next thing she knew Lincoln was calling her to come out for sundowners.

Taking a few moments to focus and learn where she was, Shannon called out excitedly, “Coming.”

Stretching she pulled aside the mosquito net and made up her face, standing in front of the only mirror they had, then wrapped on a new sulu and put the frangipani behind her right ear. If that was the wrong ear Lincoln would be too polite to comment, wouldn’t he?

She strolled out and was greeted by a wolf whistle, answered by some birds now very chirpy in the trees around them.

“Most of them are the collared Lory (parrot) – they can really screech and Indian mynas. I also reckon I saw a pair of spotted doves.”

“I like birds.”

“Yes. And I love your flower.”  

They sat on the wood framed lounge chairs Lincoln had carried out from the bure down to the sand where they sipped Lincoln’s version of a Mai Tai cocktail, not having all the ingredients available. But the dark rum and Grand Marnier and a freshly squeezed lime over crushed ice went well with the tinned pineapple and guava juices.

It was a pink sunset, not particular stunning, she thought, and went off for insect repellent while Lincoln topped up their drinks from what remained in the shaker. She returned outside and her mouth fell open: the former sunset pink had now transformed into a brilliant display of multi-reds climbing above the horizon.

“Oh, look Lincoln,” she said dreamily.

He saw her looking at the sunset and said he preferred it pink.

Shannon sighed. “May I sit on your knees.”

“Be my guest, I was wondering about inviting you to do that.”

“Do you like me?”


At that Shannon pulled his head down and they kissed, little dabs as first and as their confidence built the kisses became longer and eventually she parted her lips and her mouth was invaded, sweetly.

She flicked her tongue against his and felt her nipples stiffen.



Chapter 6

Eve King, the producer of the Ecstasy Island Game Show, sat silently, both hands rolled under her chin, watching two of the six people who were viewing the film clip for the first time. She looked at B.J. and their sponsor, Bob McCloud, managing director of Opossum and Wool Blend International, searching for unguarded expressions as they reacted to what they saw. She detected nothing that alarmed her – the viewers had reacted positively, enjoying what they saw.

“It’s brilliant, B.J., congratulations. They’re fucking like rattle-snakes, aren’t they?”

“It looks that way to me,” J.B. smirked. “Right, Eve.”



She cut in. “Women everywhere will read her body language, J.B. They’re just happy, playing up and bit and trying to act roles.”

“I hope you are wrong Eve,” said the sponsor, losing his smile.

“Don’t be churlish Bob…”

“Eve, please.”

“Please allow me to finish J.B.” she said coldly. “I am extremely proud of them. They hammed this up beautifully. Now I expect Shannon to take control and rehearse them to acted it out, having our women viewers tempted to bite their finger nails wondering when Shannon will yield. The guys just want evidence that he really is nailing her, as Lincoln calls it.”

“But what if you’re wrong,” Bob protested, looking to J.B. to back him up.

“Bob, this is the truth – in all my association with Eve I’ve found she’s rarely wrong. She has an almost unbelievable instinct to think the right thing and make the right move even in the face of strong opposition. Trust her Bob.”

“What, trust her – I’m told she’s gay.”

“That’s improper of you to state that, Bob. Apologize please.”

“What’s wrong with you B.J., you’re backed off supporting your sponsors, eh?”

“Apologise Bob or I’ll have you thrown out and banned from ever entering this building again.”

“What? How dare you speak to me like that. I’ve sunk 1½ million bucks into this show and this is how you treat me.”

“I tread a fine line between representing my senior people and resenting our top sponsors, Bob. In this instance, it’s you who has crossed the line. Yield or you’re out of here.”

Bob stood and faced Eve.

“I agree, I was out of line making that allegation when I had no right to do so. Eve. I apologize unreservedly. It you sue me, so be it.”

“Sit down and behave, Bob. And thanks, I appreciate the apology. Now can we get on with it?”

“I think news should run the entire clip,” J.B. said. “What’s your view, Rick?”

“That’s my view,” replied the head of news and current affairs.

“Just a minute guys,” Rick said. “You’ve only seen the clip when they know they are on camera. We have more – thirty seconds before they began their spiel and sixty seconds after they finished. Run the whole transmission, Neville.”

The audience watched the whole run in silence then clapped at the finish.

“Jesus,” J.B. said.

“It’s better than theatre,” Bob laughed. “Pity you can’t run it all.”

“I want it all,” Rick said, turning to Eve. “Eve?”

“Take it all Rick, you may use it all providing you insert a couple of bleeps and have what you decide to use checked with our legal department and signed off by them.”

“Done Eve.”


“Yes J.B.?”

Their eyes locked. He looked at Bob who shook his head almost imperceptibly.


Bob slapped J.B. on the back.

“Good man J.B. not to veto a brilliant decision.”

Rick jumped to his feet to go off with Neville to arrange the release to TV News of the clip.

“Sally,” he called to his assistant who was in the viewing room.

“Get your crew transmitting copies off this to our overseas partners immediately; that word ‘fuck’ at the beginning is bleep.  Leave ‘pussy’… I think in context we’ll get away with that one if there are any complaints because of the context.”

“Good thinking Rick. Never will your news viewers been so titivated. Why don’t you also offer it to Channel 1?”

Rick looked shocked.

“It’s just not done.”

“Think of the extra viewers it would pull to your news to watch for the next clip if Channel 1 dared show it.”

Rick appealed to Eve for support and she smiled slyly.

 “Send it to them as a complimentary, Rick. They won’t show it but it will excite interest and I have an idea that I’ll discuss with you later.”

*  *  *

Everyone in the room returned later to watch the screening of the 6:30 news, Rick and Sally his assistant returning a couple of minutes beforehand and J.B. handed them drinks.


“Sally says the potential take up is enormous J.B. She’s taken calls from two of the American networks wanting to pay us big money to allow them to go to the island to interview Shannon and Lincoln.”

“Tell them no. We anticipated this happening. The chairman Mrs Myers’ instruction is that we risked a packet on staging this first season so it must remain our show in every respect. She’ll have my female version of balls for an entrée if I go against that directive. What you can do is select one of the networks to drip feed and give them exclusive interview rights for fifteen minutes immediately after our intrepid couple returning to Nandi face the media before they home. Perhaps that interview could be done using facilities at the airport and make it a condition of the exclusive that they buy our Saturday Night Special next evening.”

“Good thinking.”

The 6:30 news began with the usual signature tune showing Shannon and Lincoln, smiling at their fixed camera. The shot then zoomed to show Lincoln’s hand cupping a breast.

Cornelia Cross the newsreader, filled the screen.

 “We have just seen a wee bit of film clip from our game show winners that came in via satellite just an hour ago. Exactly what’s going on up there on Ecstasy Island, somewhere in the myriad of islands that are part of the Fiji Islands? Frankly, we’re confused. Before we show Shannon and Lincoln’s transmission in its entirety, here are the news headlines.

“Oh. God, trust News to sensationalize by honing in on that breast shot.” Eve groaned theatrically. “Shannon will kill us. I’ll be away sick the day she’s due in.”

“I’ll be at my holiday home on Waiheke Island,” Rick said. “Just tell Shannon it was Mrs Myers’ idea – she’s in Canada for most of this month.”


An hour later Eve and Rick were Rick’s office, the door shut.

“You look wicked, Eve.”

“It’s just a brilliant plan to maximum the interest in our couple in paradise. Have you lost anyone from your news team to Channel 1?”

“Two in the past two months and we have one of theirs jump ship to us.”

“Would you trust either of them who went?”

“That’s an odd question but not one of them, Maxine Smith – she’ll do anything to get a story, and I mean anything; she has no concept of ethics and attempts to educate her in ethics failed.”

“What about the person who came across?”

“I don’t know much about Nicholas but can find out.”

“Is he here now?”

“He’s probably gone home unless he’s doing late duty. I’ll take a look if you wish to speak to him.”


Rick returned with a sallow-faced beanpole with a bright smile.

“Hello, Mrs King.”

“Do I know you?”

“No, but you know my mother Bess Roebuck.”

“My God, Bess. I haven’t seen her since we did that African Safari together, how is she?”

“Fine and complaining she’s making too much money and not managing to have enough play.”

“Well, give her my kindest regards. Now to business. If Rick approves this I want this to happen. Do you like to travel Nicholas?”

“It’s okay.”

“What is your favourite interest away from work?”

“Snow-boarding, by a long shot.”

“Would you like me to arrange a complimentary season ticket for you for use this winter at the Whakapapa Ski-field on Mt. Ruapehu?”

“Would I what? I suppose you want something in return?”

“It involves leaking some information to someone. It’s legal, because I’m in charge of the information. The hard part for you will be being deceptive and then telling absolutely no-one about your deception, not even your mother. I shall get our legal department to draw up a document so you are fully protected provided you carry out my instructions with absolutely fidelity. Do you know Maxine Smith?”

Rick interrupted and told Eve she was brilliant; he could see where this was going and why. He didn’t like it because it meant his news team being scooped but the benefit to the company could be enormous. “It’s why you supported the clip being sent to TV-1 News – to wet appetites.

Eve nodded.

Nicholas replied. “Maxine’s nickname is Snake; she’s slimy, not to be trusted.”

“Would you consider taking her out for a drink?

“Hell yes, she’s sexy. But she wouldn’t look at a beanpole like me.”


“Unless what?”

“You had something to sell her. If you work it right you might get more than just a drink. She’ll see it as making her career.”

“Are you sure it’s legal? If so, I’ll do it.”

Rick said it’s probably legal.

“Just do it Nicholas, providing you feel comfortable about it and accept it will benefit our channel.”

It was arranged that Nicholas would invite Maxine for a drink and suggest she’d better he had something extremely valuable for her concerning what’s really happening on Ecstasy Island, but no way should he mention money, that it was up to Maxime to suggest paying for a news tip.

*  *  *

Meanwhile, on Ecstasy Island, Shannon groaned.

“It’s well gone 6:30 in New Zealand. Mum and dad will have seen your hand on my breast.”

Lincoln’s head popped up, wet with saliva. It had been buried against the flesh of Shannon’s breasts, that were now swollen and probably almost expected her extended nipples were about to pop off on to the sand.

“Your parents may not notice the accidental cupping – you mother will be checking that your colour looks healthy and your father will be looking at me deciding whether I’m to be trusted with his daughter.”

Lincoln flicked his tongue around a nipple and Shannon moaned into her second orgasm in fifteen minutes.

“Couldn’t you do something else, Lincoln? I’m all hot and bothered. Pussy is waiting for you.”

Lincoln obligingly stood up and removed his shorts.

Shannon, who’d been tentatively rubbing the side of his dick through his shorts gulped and asked if that was all for her.

“I can’t see anyone else around here,” he grinned.

“I mean, it’s rather large – quite unexpected.”

“I’m a careful guy so receive no complaints. Let me sit on the chair, you turn and face me and then lower yourself onto it, taking your time and controlling how much you want inside you.”

“I’d like it all.”

“Then take it quietly and you’ll get your wish.”

They took their positions.

“I’m going to love doing this.”

Lincoln said, “Not many women would say that.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Of course, not.”

“Cripes I’m wet.”

“I know Shannon, you’re leaking on to me.”


“Don’t, I love it.”

At that Shannon cried “Oh Lincoln” and sat down quite hard and filled herself with the first four inches.

“It fits!”

“Of course, your cunt and my dick are made for one another.”

“Oh Lincoln!”

Another two inches disappeared.

“There’s not much more to go, take your time.”

“I want it now,” she screamed, slamming down and pulling against the arms of the chair.

“Jesus,” Lincoln breathed heavily.

“I’ve got it all,” she crowed and sighed into another orgasm.

This was Lincoln’s favourite position.

Leaning back, he could see the piston effect with her rise and fall; he could play with her tits while that was happening or lean forward and suck nipples. And right now, all that was happening in paradise.

He leered passionately.

Eventually, Shannon began running out of steam, and Lincoln responded by lightly fingering her clit.

“Don’t – I’m not fond of that.”

Lincoln ignored that because he was ready to shoot and wanted her coming with him.

She lurched against him wailing and heaving and he added his contribution, grunting and arching his back.

They remained still and silent for a few seconds.

“T-that was absolutely amazing; I came like a river.”

“You were amazing baby.”

“Really? How is it you suddenly know how to talk to a woman?


They dozed for a while then Lincoln went to the food preparation bench, cut the barbecued chicken, dunk pieces into the apricot and banana sauce that Shannon had prepared and returned with the chicken salad and a bottle of dry white wine.

“This is paradise,” she said. “Thank you for a wonderful day.”

“A most perfect day but I’ll try to ensure we surpass the standard we’ve just set.”

“Good boy, what a perfect man to be marooned with.”


Shannon lay beside in bed, inches away from her lover’s bed, unable to go to sleep because her mind was in a whirl. For the first time in her life she’d really, really liked having robust sex. It wasn’t because he was big, it was because he’d warmed to her and obviously wanted to please her and had not been in a hurry to get it in and work roughly to get himself off.

She wriggled her toes, enjoying the thought of her secret; she wondered if she’d ever tell him. Her secret was she absolutely adored having her breasts worshipped and he was out on his own at doing it.

She began thinking negatively: why was she acting like this? She’d been fending him off, expressing disinterest, and now she was allowing him to seduce her, body and mind. Body was one thing, but her mind? Apprehensiveness lurked because she didn’t want him thinking she was his for the taking as if she had no say in their sexual behaviour.

Shannon switched to filming tactics and worked out a plan.

Eve had not discussed this with her but she was certain Eve would expect her to be a little Drama Queen in the filming, leaving viewers uncertain of what was going on until right near the end. She hoped Mr Big Dick would be cooperative with her direction before the camera.

Hours later, Shannon awoke to the new day. She thought she’d like a little play and looked over to his camp bed. Lincoln wasn’t there; didn’t he want her?

She walked outside nude and found him nude. The smell of barbecuing fish reached her.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully. “I caught five mullet on the bait-caster with a spinner. Fish come no fresher than this.”

“I’ll get the things.”

“The table is set.”

She looked beyond him and saw that it was – this time right out on the beach because the air was still relatively cool.

“Rush and clean your teeth – but don’t dress, Jane.”

“Right, Tarzan.”

He decided to reveal his plan after they returned from sailing. He wanted to sail beyond the reef when they went out again that afternoon; the forecast was for fresh winds clear of land. Mr Macho Man wanted to show her what real catamaran sailing was like.


When they returned to land late afternoon, Shannon’s heart was still pumping on a high. It was the most exhilarating sports activity she’d ever experience. At one stage, he reckoned they were on a reach doing close to 16 knots, whatever that meant. They were ‘stacked out’ – she knew what that meant because it was scary – and the spray swept over them like a white avalanche at times heavier drops pelted into her skin.

They returned, moving across the lagoon oh so slowly. They were scarcely moving and she was glad they’d broken a rule and had gone beyond the out reef to find real action.

“We’ll circumnavigate the island soon, perhaps tomorrow,” he said.

“Yeah, why not,” she’d replied bravely, knowing that meant breaking the rule again not to sail beyond the outer reef.

“Um, will it be dangerous?”

“If we break gear and overturn or hit something such as a rock, whale or semi-submerged shipping container, yes it could be dangerous.”

“Turn over… a whale?”

“Come on, Jane. Me Tarzan. Me say Jane gotta take risks some time.”

“It’s not funny, Lincoln. I’m scared.”

“You’re not leaving me here alone!” she squealed, watching the bastard grinning at her as if he’d decided to sail single-handed.

After hauling the cat up to beyond high-water mark they walked hand-in-hand on the sand beach the short distance to the bure. She wanted to mention the TV strategy but he was burbling on about cat sailing. Then he took over, catching her unaware.

“Let’s take our wetsuits off here.”

She did so, without question because she was cooking in her neoprene suit. Then he laid her on her back on to the flimsy table.

“My God, you’re going to…”

Before she could react any further his tongue was stroking the outside of her cunt – well he called it that. She sighed, opening her legs; wasn’t what this what people did on holiday?

Once was good, twice was pushing it and three times he had her practically legless and miraculously the table hadn’t collapsed. She’d never before streamed her climax like that in a single session. Little wonder she was legless.

“I’ll carry you to bed,” he declared gallantly when she declared she’d be unable to walk.

He placed her on the bed, displaying commendable tenderness yet had the air male superiority about him; time to end that.

“I’m not going to sleep,” she said, sitting with her back against the wall. “Sit down over there and listen.”

Shannon then revealed her strategy for the upcoming 5.30 filming.

“It’s deceiving the public.”

“Oh, we suddenly care what other people think?”

“Well, not altogether. But it means acting it out – I was useless acting at school.”

Shannon said he didn’t have a coach like her. After explaining how she wanted to unfold their changing relationship to the camera, she had him role playing and gradually he changed from a wooden presentation to something approaching animated-normal.

At 5:25 they faced the camera.

“Just stay still Lincoln, breathe deeply. Let your thoughts run. I have a feeling once you’re on camera you’ll be your natural self.”

“How can I be if I don’t know what my natural self is.”

“Shut up and relax.”

The red light came on.


“Hello world, I’m Shannon Maple updating you. I apologize for my appearance. This plaster is hiding a very sore eye. We were playing tenniquoits on the beach this morning and I was whacked in the eye. I cried and Lincoln Moss, winner of the fabulous ‘Ecstasy Island for Two Paradise Game Show’ went off in a huff when I pleaded for sympathy. His mood had improved when he returned and I made him late lunch.”

Lincoln said grumpily, “My mood would have improved had she given me something I really desired.” Then grinning he said, “I bet you all know I what I meant,” and thrusting his hips forward obscenely said, “Cor!”

“You foul pig. Little wonder you cannot get a woman to love you for longer than five minutes.”

“Go with me baby and you’ll be in ecstasy for at least half the day or night.”

“I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about. But moving on, we had barbecued mullet for breakfast, played with each other – I mean played tenniquoits – and then went sailing. It’s so…oh fuck, Lincoln. The red light is blinking.

“Goodbye everyone,” they said in unison.

 “Why can I hear that camera still running Lincoln?”

“Because it’s programmed to run on.”

“Oh, this is unbelievable, they’re cheating on us. Lincoln. Keep your mouth closed and shut the camera housing door.”

“The bastards, the sneaking bastards,” Shannon fumed. “They’ve programmed the camera for an ending over-run and probably at the beginning as well. They are mongrels.”

“Nah, there won’t be anything they’ll use.”

Shannon turned pale. “Yesterday, when the red light went out I mentioned your hand on my tit, I mean my breast and worried about mum and dad noticing that. You attempted to console me and I cried and I think I was all over you. They’ll have that via satellite and will screen it.”

“The bastards,” Lincoln said. “Identify the curs when we get back and I’ll fill them in.”

“No, they’ll have you up for assault. I can live with what happened yesterday and today I think we were okay. In future, we must be careful about what we do and say from the time you open that box until you close the door.”


The sea was too rough to go sailing next day and in the afternoon, they rehearsed for a big presentation. Shannon said women would be home waiting to be taken out or having a rest before getting the kids dinner and perhaps would be thinking they’d soon be watching TV news on Channel 8 to find out how she and Lincoln would be spending the night. He agreed to go along with her.

The couple on the island had no idea and people using the social media were messaging friends like crazy wondering had Sharon locked herself in the toilet in fear because the asshole was stalking her, rubbing his cock or perhaps they were now spending every free minute with Lincoln prodding Sharon’s pussy raw.


The red light of the camera went on.

“Good-day world,” Lincoln leered. “We’re having a party this evening, fancy dress. I think the time has come have Shannon bare her breasts. Aren’t they beauties. The crude triangle covering her what’s-it is a banana leaf. She couldn’t fit it comfortably so I had to do the job for her. Psssst, she shaves, totally, even this far from civilization. What for I ask you? I’m wearing a penis cap fashioned out of a piece of white coconut meat. Shannon suggested I cut off my working gear and then I wouldn’t have anything to cover up and the scrubber then said not that I had much to cover up. The lying bitch. She then handed me our carving knife.”

“Sharon said, doesn’t he talk a load of rubbish. I’m sorry mum and dad for appearing topless in public but it is for Fancy Dress Night. Please understand. Lincoln has been pestering me ever since we stepped on this island for me to show him my, um, boobs, so at last he’s seduced me into appearing like this, but I don’t mind. He’s getting nothing more than a free look all evening.”

“We’ll attempt to sail around our island in the cat tomorrow,” Lincoln said. “So, if there’s no transmission tomorrow night you’ll know something went wrong.”

“Bye everyone. Have a great night,” Shannon waved energetically, mobilizing her breasts. “Eve, you have my permission to use this bit. Whoa girl!”

“Bye everyone,” Lincoln leered. By tomorrow evening my bet it she’ll be showing me her bare thingy.”


When the door closed on the camera Lincoln said that appeared to go well.

“Yes, but that’s an understatement. I will have lost my parents and all my older relatives in disgrace but now have the best-known breasts throughout New Zealand. You are corrupting me, Lincoln Whitford Moss.”

“Bollocks, you are becoming your own woman, Shannon Maeve Maple.”

“Who told you my middle name?”

“I saw it on your passport, the same way you learned my middle name and scoffed at it. Fancy using the word bollocks to me for something I said. You really don’t know how to talk to me do you?”

“Bollocks and stop this; we are not on camera so there’s no one to impress.”


They set off mid-morning to circle the island. Lincoln figured if they kept on a course taking them farther and farther out from the island, they’d reduce the distance they’d be beating against the wind, and that proved correct. They beached at a bay on the way around and were back at their home beach on and a half hours later, in plenty of time for the broadcast early evening.

At one stage when they were stacking out, their feet on the trampoline side rail, Shannon – now really into yachting, with her head parallel just above the water but getting slopped in the face by waves – and Lincoln set on his trapeze hook just a little higher to adjust his weight to counter the wind pressure on the mainsail when Shannon lifted up and shouted to him. “I’m unhooking to have a dip to cool down, come back for me.”

Still a novice, she gave Lincoln no chance. As she dropped overboard the sudden loss of counter-weight made the flying cat lurch temporarily out of control, it was caught by a wind gust and capsized.

“Fuck, what a stupid bitch,” Lincoln yelled, taking an unexpected ducking.

Fortunately, in previous days he’d tipped over three times solo in the lagoon, practicing to get the craft upright. Up-righting problems occur when the wind is under 10 knots. At present, it was uneven, blowing a little under and a little over ten and perhaps 12 knots at times, and they had been really creaming it on some legs.

“Help!” Came the faint call of Shannon, who had found it difficult to swim against the wind and tide in her life-jacket.

Lincoln didn’t bother waving. She’s probably not see his hand anyway, she being in a bit of a panic.

He had to focus on getting the 16-footer upright and sailing back to rescue her…providing he could see her. He flicked a glance in her direction, looking at the cloud formations and then at the island.

Pulling the rope rigged for this purpose, Lincoln climbed aboard after succeeding on the third attempt. He held on to the rope until well settled aboard. The stupid bitch had no idea of the danger she’d put them in. He was now wet, angry and hungry – ready for a fight. “Just you wait, Shannon Maeve Maple.”

Their rations were safe in the waterproof bag and he’d brought the standby radio in case of emergency. That was secured in a storage compartment. Turning the craft about, he set off, taking particular notice of those clouds he’d studied earlier and his relationship to the land. When it appeared to be right, he scanning the water for a sighting of his crew person.

At first Lincoln thought he’d gone too far and a little off course. But then he heard her call. Surprisingly it didn’t sound panicky.

Seconds later he spotted her black and yellow cap – she must have held on to that when back-flipping into the water. She was turned to face him, naturally, and smiling which was unexpected.

Lincoln swept past her then returned into the wind so that he could easily stop when reaching her. She managed to climb aboard unaided, allowing him to balance the craft.

He felt livid, with a lot of things to say to her. But she crawled over the trampoline to him, kissed him and called him her hero. That took the wind out of Lincoln’s sails; it’s not every day a woman says that to a guy.

“I panicked when I saw Jessie X overturn then realized I was responsible for that. But then I calmed myself, knowing you would allow me to die – not when we haven’t told the world at last you have seduced me.”

“The world?”

“The people watching our reports on TV. For people interested in our adventures. Reality TV is this month’s flavour around the world; it’s something older people hate which makes younger people even greater fans.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Silly boy,” she smiled. “It’s my business to know these things. Now if it weren’t for our report tonight I’d say slip your wetsuit down and you could have me on the tramp – but we must be true to our viewers and not miss our scheduled video report.”

“True to our viewers?”

“Those people we talk to in a delayed broadcast each night in New Zealand, Australia and throughout the Pacific, North America, Great Britain, Hong Kong and goodness knows where else.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Keep saying that and I’ll believe you are a stuck record. Come on skipper, on with the show. Land us for lunch at a beach. I’m eager for kisses and a good tit massage.”

“You’re becoming quite crude.”

“It’s because I have an excellent teacher. Let’s say, I promise I won’t purposely – what do you call it – can out again.”

Lincoln soon had them powering away.

“You’re quite an interesting person to have as crew.”

Shannon flushed with pride.


They stood in front of the camera, both in shorts and splatter with jam pelts and bits of food.

 “Hello World. It’s Shannon again on Ecstasy Island and we are in this state because Lincoln and became bored waiting for this scheduled transmission so started a bit of a food fight. It’s some of tonight’s dinner we’re wearing. Sorry about that. You’ll be pleased I won.”

“Liar Shannon. I won.”

“Don’t be such a toad, Lincoln. I was the winner. Can’t you ever have respect for a lady?”

“A lady like my mother yes, but not for a horny lying fake-virgin like you.”

“Lincoln, stop it. We’re on air.”


[That bit had been devised and rehearsed, of course.]

“We sailed around the island today on the catamaran. My trapeze harness attached to a wire from way up the mast came unhooked and I fell into the shark infested ocean. Oh, Jesus I cried, watching the cat capsize as a result of the sudden loss of my weight. I tried to swim but the life-jacket, wind and tide were against me making much progress. I just relaxed knowing my skipper would come for me. By keeping still, I thought sharks, barracuda and sea snakes might overlooked me. Obviously, they did or this was happening before their lunchtime. My hero had the cat up within ten minutes, sailed back and somehow found me, a mere speck in the ocean. He told me he’d navigated by relocating that pattern clouds in the wind drift to backtrack along that course and was able to find me. That’s total crap I say, believing he just got lucky Once back on the cat I offered myself to him, telling him to do what he’d been hankering for ever since we stepped on this island. But the bastard, he turned me down.”

Lincoln said solemnly to the camera, “A good skipper doesn’t take unfair advantage of his crew.”

“My hero,” Shannon said, stepping behind him and putting her arms around him.

“This is looking good,” Lincoln leered into the camera. Bye.

Shannon apparently had swooned against his shoulder and didn’t sign off (and that had been rehearsed).


Lincoln closed the camera box door.

“Were we magnificent or where we what?”

“Truly magnificent. But enough of hamming it up. When before the camera tomorrow we must that reveals little stuff that sexually provocative but nevertheless creates a slow under-tow build-up emotionally, making the more romantic women viewers pee themselves in anxiety.”



“Never mind.”

At the conclusion of next evenings news report that admitted in leering fashion they were having sex without quite admitting it unequivocally.

*  *

On Wednesday, early afternoon on the island, two days before the sea plane returned for them, Shannon and Lincoln raced on jet-skis to the reef – Shannon winning because of her lighter weight. She’d done that before in a previous race when they went out to the reef and back for fun. This time it was to retrieve their top-up supplies left on a high-point on the reef sometime overnight.

They found mainly fruit and vegetables and extra toilet paper in the water-proof container and two bottles of French champagne with labels attached, marked ‘For your last night’.

Shannon began crying.


“I don’t want it to end.”

“Oh, my poor darling. Let me comfort you.”

But the tears were quickly forgotten.

“Look – a letter!” screamed Shannon, sending floating terns into the air but the outburst was ignored by a majestic soaring frigate, a seabird with a wing spread of some eight feet. An abundant of sea and on-shore birdlife enhanced their paradise.

“Who is addressed to?” Lincoln demanded.

“Me,” she said triumphantly, holding it against her chest. “We’ll go back to the beach and I’ll read it to you. Then it’s time you were lucky again.”

“Oh Shannon – we did it twice before breakfast and again later.”

“You don’t expect me to wait all the time until you feel ready, do you?”

“No, Shannon. After you read the letter I’ll head off and grab a meat sandwich and two chocolate bars.”

“Men,” Shannon sniffed. “Now I know why they mainly take short holidays.”


Back on the beach, Shannon read the letter from Eve King:

Dear Shannon and Lincoln,

The camera feedback from you has been unbelievable. It’s began a new cult here. People by the hundreds are phoning in or emailing asking how to contact you. They mostly want to tell you what to do, Shannon. You may not like to read this but the opinion is going some 20 to 1 for you to submit. It appears everyone wants to see it happen – live, for God’s sake. Needless to say, our ratings are sky-high. One night we lead the news with an international crisis and our switchboard jammed with callers demanding we put your transmission on first. I’m an old campaigner, as you will be aware of Shannon, but I’ve never experienced anything like this. You are doing fine, Shannon – just the right amount of should I-shouldn’t I.

The women phoning in, Lincoln, are raving about you. They cannot believe you can allow what is commonly described as ‘a ripe peach like Shannon’ flit around you like she does. All radio and internet chat sessions are now suggesting Shannon has drugged you.

Well, moving on, I have to warn you to expect visitors on Wednesday afternoon, about 2:00, a TV-l filming director, camera-person, sound-person and the interviewer Maxine Smith. Please accept them without hostility. They’ll come with my blessing because of my devious machinations. I arranged to leak to them your precise location to allow them to grab their so-called ‘Sensational Exclusive’ that will, I believe, switch at least half of their viewers to our channel to view your very exposed homecoming and also to the Saturday Night Special on Saturday evening. I trust that you can cope with this; Shannon please tutor Lincoln on what to expect. Chip will fly them in and is instructed to fly them about again after three hours to avoid a risky night landing back at base. The prospect that their return flight could be delayed ought to scare the crap out of them.”

Shannon paused reading the letter. “Are you unhappy about this?”

“Nah underhand tactics don’t really bother me if the cause is good and it is; it’s a golden opportunity to boost the following of the show next season. I’ll cope.”

“Thank you darling.”

“What’s this darling caper?”

“Oh that – I’ve fallen in love with you darling?”

In a somewhat shaky voice, Lincoln asked Shannon to finish the letter.

The screening of the TV-1 exclusive will not give time for any media to reach your hideaway. But be prepared for a media frenzy at Nandi and on your return to Auckland. I’m sending Julie Radanovich and two security officers to provide assistance for you at Nandi and they’re booked to travel with you to Auckland. You guys, with a little inspiration from me, are pushing New Zealand TV to new heights. Please react accordingly and soon after the Saturday Night Special you can expect your lives to return to normal. You two are unbelievable. Love and kisses, Eve.

“Love and kisses, Eve. The woman is getting all emotional, I bet she sees big awards coming her way from our show.”

Shannon looked at Lincoln kindly and said he must learn to cope with the pressure. “Yes, awards from this will come here way, but she’s earned them. Don’t you agree?”

“Um, yes. She’s very talented and works with absolute focus. Her private life must be hell.”

“Exactly. People think she’s gay but the truth is she doesn’t have much time for a personal life and when she does she devotes her attention to her husband who exists confined to a wheel chair.”

“Hot totty.”

“That sounds sympathetic. I’d go along with that,” Shannon sighed.

And then she shrieked, “Omigod, today is Wednesday… they’ll be here within an hour. First we must get some clothes on.”

“Why,” Lincoln asked, and was answered with a scowl rather than an edifying answer.

*  *

The sea plane landed and stopped by the entrance to the lagoon at 2:15 on Wednesday. The two dwellers of paradise nosed their jet-skis in sideways to a float of the sea plane, the wind at their backs to hold them steady, as Lincoln said when briefing Shannon.

Chip shook Lincoln’s hand and slapped him on the back, asking, “Have you done it yet?”

“That’s personal, Chip.”

Chip kissed Shannon and whispered, “Have you guys done it yet?”

“Yes, many times. Spread the rumour.”

After introductions, the island dwellers ferried their three visitors ashore. Just like a movie script Lincoln went back for the last and the most glamorous visitor – interviewer Maxine Smith.

“I’ve never been on one of these thingies,” she said nervously.

“Just regard it as a water taxi.”

“Where can I hold on?”

“Around my waist.”

Maxine seized Lincoln in an octopus clamp. “God, your stomach muscles are like iron.”

“If they fascinate, feel them and I’ll reach back and play with your tits. Deal?”


Lincoln wasn’t sure that she managed to satisfy herself but there certainly was a lot of moaning going on. He did his best to crank her up, swinging on a nipple with his fingers and she began murmuring ‘Lower, lower’ but he thought that we becoming too serious.

On shore, all that changed.

When everyone had their coffee – some being presented cups and others unbreakable glasses because this was only a two-person camp, Maxine changed her spots. Looking under lowered lids at Shannon and Lincoln, she said, “Thank you for receiving us and for your hospitality, but the truth is we’ve here to expose you as frauds.”

Shannon flashed a warning glance at Lincoln but he ignored it.

Lincoln smiled, knowing he was on camera, and said, “That’s interesting Maxine, how do you figure that out?”

“There’s a German couple on that island we can just see, only seventeen miles away. They have a luxury suite for their visitors from Europe. We believe you’ve been staying there instead of roughing it here, sailing back here in the afternoons just to log your TV transmission.”

“Oh yeah. Have you done any sailing Maxine?”

“Quite a bit of keelboat yachting actually Lincoln.”

“Come for a sail and bring your cameraman.”

“We can’t waste the time; we only have three hours here.”

Lincoln said it was important for her understanding. She baulked and her cameraman said he’d like a sail in the lagoon to get some good footage.”

“No, we’ll go beyond the reef.”

The cameraman, looking beyond the reef, turned white.

“Here, Max, take my small backup digital camera. Press the red button to film, everything is on auto.”

Everyone else stood drinking wine, watching Maxine and Lincoln set out on the cat.

“This is glorious,” Maxine sighed, filming. How fast are we going?”

“Three knots if we’re lucky.”

“This is ecstasy, just look at the setting.”

They sailed from the lagoon picking up a bit of speed and as they reached beyond the lee shelter of the island the cat leapt forward in an energized ball of sheer power.

“Eeek,” screamed Maxine, turning a light green hue. “How fast are we going?”

“Perhaps sixteen knots. If you go beyond twenty we’ll probably pitch-pole – what we call going ass over kite, meaning, our craft will be over-powered with the back of the pontoons flipping upwards, the mast lurching for’ard, the bow digging into the water and the stern shooting over all of that.”

“Eeeek. Stop!”

Lincoln hauled in the main and gently eased the craft around and began the long reaches to return to the beach.

“What was that idiotic outburst of male chauvinism?” Maxine scowled, bravely managing to still point the camera at Lincoln.

“Maxine, every day almost without fail the trade winds freshen from around an hour before noon, an hour afterward noon at the latest. The prevailing direction sweeps over our island and blows toward that island occupied by the Germans. If we went over there in the morning, it would take us several hours of sailing into the wind to get back here for our newscast. I thought you’d scoff at that explanation, so I knew I had to demonstrate the fact.”

“I believe you.”

Back on land Shannon and the Joy, the sound-lighting technician, were playing a friendly game of beach volleyball.

“Come Maxine,” Shannon called, “you and I will play Joy and Lincoln.

“No, let me and Peter play you and Lincoln. Peter and I play at Waihi Beach – our families have holiday homes there.”

“Bad choice, Maxine. Lincoln and I have been playing solidly each morning we’ve been here before it gets too hot. We’ll cream you.”

“Oh yeah, Peter and I have played since we were about twelve.”

In three games, Peter and Maxine managed to score one point.

“Okay, I submit. You two have been living on this island. Let’s begin the interview. How many times a day do you two have sex?”

“What’s sex Maxine?”

“Nice try Shannon. Women tend to be a little coy. But here comes the truth; How many times a day do you two have sex, Lincoln?”

“Maxine, what if I were to tell you she’d attempt to cut out my testicles when I’m asleep if I even hint of placing a hand on her,” Lincoln lied.

“Oh dear, how awful.”

“Then how do you manage in bed. I find it’s quite easy to roll over during the night and being having sex without realizing it?”

Catching on to what Maxine was attempted to get Lincoln to admit, Shannon said, “As soon as we landed on the island, I made the rules: I’d sleep in the bed from 7:00 to midnight, then I’d read or do crosswords or go asleep on the chair listening to music while Lincoln slept from midnight till 6:00 when he must rise and go out to catch our breakfast.”

“What, packaged cereal,” laughed Peter, earning a glare from Maxine.

“I read your CV. Fishing is not mentioned as a recreational interest.”

“That’s true, but come with me.”

Lincoln led everyone to the low-lying storage box by the catamaran. He pulled out a small fishing net and walked to the edge of the lagoon.

“Very impressive, Lincoln,” laughed, Joy the sound-lighting technician, earning a glare from Maxine who told her concentrating on her job.

Lincoln gathered the small net in both hands and waded into the water, stopping waist deep. He poised, not moving.

“He’s waiting to cast ahead of swimming fish,” Shannon whispered.

“What, catch fish in bright sunlight like this – at the beach we catch fish on our bait-casters just after dawn and just before dusk,” Maxine said.

“Yes, but here the island sets its own rules,” Shannon smiled. “In the short time we’ve been here, we’ve learned some of them and have adapted. I must go, he’ll want me.”

“But he hasn’t moved, hasn’t said anything.”

“Maxine, I know he’s seen fish to his right – I can pick up his vibes.”

Shannon waded out to the right of Lincoln (he’d moved his right hand slightly but only Shannon hadn’t noticed; she moved slowly towards him, arms wide apart and splashing the water gently.

Finally, Lincoln cast the six-foot diameter net fluidly and as it sank quickly he pulled the draw-sting at the optimum moment.

“Fish anyone?” he asked with a smile, dumping eight mullet on to the sand.

There were no takers and he and Shannon quickly returned the fish to the water, watching them swim away strongly.

“Come, we have very late lunch to serve you,” Shannon said.

She presented raw sliced reef fish which she’s speared herself, marinated in lemon juice and then mixed with freshly squeezed coconut milk and, with the arrival of a new shipment of greens and vegetables, garnished with chopped spring onions, grated carrots and chopped chili and tomatoes.

“This is cordon bleu,” Maxine enthused and was surprised to learn that Shannon could cook little more that boiled eggs and omelettes until arriving on the island.

“Lincoln has been my tutor.”

Lincoln then served two big smoked snapper that he’d caught on a setline and offered to fetch smoked shark fillet portions but there were no takers.

“All this food – how is it that you two don’t appear to have put on weight since when I saw you on the night of the final of the game show?”

Shannon said they were on the move from 7:00 in the morning to sunset, beginning with swimming, then a light breakfast, then going for a run, playing sport and, checking to see that the cameras were off. She whispered to Maxine, “Of course we fuck a lot.”

Maxine convulsed and shot most of her mouth of wine over her sound technician.

At 4:00 Shannon agreed to fake a TV transmission to be filmed and sound recorded providing the team remained quiet as she wanted to make the filming appear to be the real thing.

Maxine agreed to that.

Shannon shed her sulu. She was now dressed in panties and Lincoln in a G-string he’d plaited out of native grass.

 “Hello World. This is Shannon Maple reporting. We are sad because we begin our trip home the day after tomorrow. Today we experienced calamity. A news film team led by the sultry Maxine Smith from our top rival TV channel in New Zealand – TV-1 – penetrated security and arrived here this afternoon by chartered sea plane. I was all for chasing them away with spear-guns but wise Lincoln counselled, no, let them come on to the island for a couple of hours as it would establish credibility that we are existing here alone.”

Lincoln said, “Yeah, it provided to be a good move. I took Maxine sailing and proved with the afternoon Trade Wind blowing up to 20 knots we unable to sail out far unless we wanted to sail back in the dark. We slaughtered the visitors at beach volleyball and then made Maxine, the reporter-presenter, Peter Black the cameraman and Joy Samuels the sound and lighting technician, green by offering them raw fish but once they tried it they lost their green look around the gills. Take up the story, Shannon.”

“The big question was just how compatible had we become. I whispered to Maxine we’re having sex all the time and Lincoln told her confidentially that I won’t let him near me. Poor Maxine was so confused. I saw her whispering to Lincoln, obviously offering to help the poor boy out but when I picked up my spear-gun she scuttled back to her team. We watched them fly off; it was so lonely after that. I cried and took Lincoln to bed and he was, um, sympathetic. Bye.”

Lincoln had listened to that with a disbelieving look.

“When they left, we were so happy to be back in isolation again. We spent the next couple of hours’ jet-ski racing and then went for the rugged hike across the island. “Shannon was practically asleep on her feet and only just made it to deliver this scheduled transmission. Bye.”


Maxine said, “Good delivery but people won’t know what to believe.”

“Oh, were we confusing?” Shannon asked innocently.

They heard the seaplane arriving so there were hugs and kisses all round. Shannon and Lincoln ferried Peter and Joy and their equipment out to the aircraft and Lincoln returned for Maxine.

“Lincoln darling, please tell me the truth. You two have become lovers, haven’t you?”

“Maxine, I value my reproductive gear too much to either confirm or deny anything about any relationship I have with Shannon because she’s become an expert with her hunting knife. She now dives off the reef wearing just a face mask and armed with just her trusty knife and usually spears a fish for our next meal.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes Maxine.”

“Well, if you don’t mind I’ll hold you by the shoulders on the ride out; I’ll feel safer.”

“Well guys, I’ll be back early Friday to return you to civilization,” Chip called, adding slyly to the temporary island dwellers, “Do well whatever you’re doing.”

An hour later the couple were repeating their faked broadcast into the fixed camera for transmission via satellite.

As they walked to the bure they agreed it had been an interesting afternoon, including confusing Maxine and lying to her but she’d have a good story.

“She was offering you a quickie, wasn’t she?”



“What’s a quickie?”

“Lincoln Moss, you can be so exasperating at times. At times like this I wonder why I bother being with you.”

“Get over it, Shannon. It’s never going to be any different.”

*  *

On Friday, the beachfront in Nandi was crowded with locals and tourists when the sea plane landed and rolled up on to shore under its own power and semi-concealed wheels under the floats. The bearded Fijian, who with his back to the steady wind and had a rope attached to the rear of a float to keep the sea plane steady, looked about 7ft tall.

The crowed make a tremendous noise of welcome, so obviously, the daily TV syndicated film clips from the Ecstasy Island couple had screened on local commercial TV.

A group of Fijian women, dressed in native costume, performed a welcoming song with hand actions and that was filmed by local TV and three international TV crews and reporters were gathered to begin interviewing the couple from Ecstasy Island.

Julie Radanovich suddenly appeared between the couple and kissed them both.

“Watch what you say, no absolute disclosure until tomorrow night in Auckland. We have two American film crews here, Fiji TV and a crew from Germany and reporters with photographers from Auckland’s New Zealand Herald, Fiji, three from Australian newspapers and two or three from other countries.

“But why the fuss?”

“Because Lincoln, females have taken social media by storm and virtually the entire social media and regular TV entertainment world has been caught up in your story. You guys are responsible for those calculated and brilliantly managed daily TV clips and they and the NZ Herald’s exclusive interview got of you two on the island went world-wide.”

“Now please listen carefully. We have to board the aircraft in two hours and fifteen minutes from now. Enjoy this hullabaloo and locals will be lining the route as our cavalcade with police escort takes you to the nearby Nandi International airport.”

“But please, please be coy about your big announcement. Release details tomorrow night.”

“At the airport, you have a contractual obligation to be interviewed exclusively by one of the big three US networks, and I’ll feed you more details on that as we near the airport.”

Appearing perplexed, Shannon asked, “What big announcement are you hinting to us about?”

Julie whispered, “Your engagement announcement and wedding plans.”

Shannon and Lincoln looked at Julie in disbelief.

“God, you two have become great actors; keep up those denials,” she smiled.

Suddenly they were surrounded by baying media representatives and Lincoln and Shannon felt like they had their backs to the wall and facing a hostile force.”


The couple travelled home in business class where magazine-type interviews were conducted by journalists also travelling on the big Air New Zealand Boeing aircraft.

At Auckland Airport, a repeat of their arrival back at Nandi occurred, only the crowd was larger, the noise was louder and the journalists from local smaller-fry publications, radio stations and independent publications were raucous with their questions but for some reason appeared easier to handle, being not as incessant nor as difficult to fob off as the international media and even the photographers were not so arrogantly pushy.

Suddenly Maxine Smith pushed forth. with two photographers at her side.

Sounding as she was the Queen of local news media, she said, “Hi guys and what have to say to dear Maxine, exclusively to me I should think.”

Lincoln, in need of sleep and to sober up protested.

“But Maxine we have spilled our guts to the media, in arriving back in Fiji, in the aircraft and now to the assembled media here.”

“God Lincoln, you are such a wet. You must realize you have a debt to repay on behalf of Challen-8 for my wonderful exclusive I gave to your cause when we met you on the island, at great expense to our newspaper I might add.”

“Shannon, help,” Lincoln groaned.

She stared at treacherous Maxine-for Maxine coldly.

“You stupid conniving bitch, you served your purpose for us and the promotion of our game show from your island visit. Now please fuck off.”

The surrounding media and well-wishers appeared rather shock.

Maxine faltered defiantly for a moment and then burst into tears and pushed through people to make her exit, sobbing and screaming, ‘Get out of my way assholes’.

“Magnificent Shannon,” Lincoln yawned. “You are the best and deserve another promotion at Channel 8.”

Lincoln’s parents pushed forward and escorted him off and Shannon’s parents did the same moments later, watched by Julie who have the expression of someone finding they were watching the wrong movie.

*  *

Lincoln awoke just after 8:30 next morning. He was energized and dressed and strode out to the kitchen.

He snatched a piece of buttered toast from his mother’s plate and biting into it said to his parents, “Thanks for rescuing me last night and bringing me home; I was really bushed. Any calls for me mom?”

“Yes,” Stella said. “Eve King called and asked that you call back. A lawyer representing the Herald newspaper called and demanded that I wake you but I refused and told him to called the legal department at Channel 8.”

“Cool mum, and very professional for a someone principally a housewife. But thanks, you, in my time of need you were there for me. Fucking fantastic.”

Stella almost faltered in emotional overload, never having heard her son speaking so eloquently to her, um apart from use of the F-word. But she rallied.

“And that pretty lawyer Julie Whatshername, called sounding highly emotional and wanted to speak to you urgently. But I said no, you were in deep sleep and she was not to worry because you’d never be swept off your feet by someone like Shannon Maple because she was too career-oriented and too bossy for you.”

“But mum, I never told you that. How the hell did you guess?”

“I’m your mother, Lincoln. I know most things there are to know about you. That sweet Julie is perfectly suited to become your sweetheart.”

“But mum, Julie is married.”

“Aye but if that’s going to stop you dead then you don’t deserve her. That girl wears her heart on her sleeve and I know where her heart has set.”


“Please yourself, I can only tell you how I think it is.”

Lincoln grabbed the other second piece of toast his mum had buttered for herself and went to his old room and closed the door. He picked up his phone, trembling a little and called Julie.

 “Hi,” Julie sobbed. “There’s something I think you should know. Every night you have been away from me I awoke from a dream that you were making love to me. Your mother told me there’s no way would you marry Shannon. Is that true?”

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I know so?”

“Although Shannon is my best friend, I’m glad to hear you say that. However, I’m married and so where does this leave you?”

“In a difficult position?”

“Oh, brilliant answer. Well you know how I feel about you. I suggest we leave if for now and you concentrate on getting through tonight’s show and please make no reference to your feeling for me, if you have any.”

She cut the call.

Someone knocked on Lincoln’s bedroom door and his sister Mackenzie entered.

She said welcome back home and kissed him.

“You’re famous, there’s probably been a million people thinking, talking and writing about you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have Facebook and Twitter accounts. The majority of comments I’ve read say you and that woman began having sex the minute you two were left alone on that island. A few of course disagree, saying they watched the nightly film clips on TV and no way would two people lie that they weren’t having sex when almost everyone was expecting them to be banging away.”

“That’s very interesting.”

“Where you two banging away almost day and high from day one?”

“I’m sorry Mac but that’s privileged information.  Loose talk could harm Channel 8’s big investment in this.”

“I understand, but I’m your sister. You can tell me in confidence.”

“I can’t and anyway you are a devotee of Facebook and Twitter.”

“Oh crap, I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

“Never mind, is that Joel Black still dating you?”

“No, I dropped him while you were away. He wanted me to join him in a groupie.”

“How sick.”

“Yeah but what made me mad is he thought I would accept. It made me think what did he really think of me and what did he really get up to when I wasn’t around.”

“Mac, that’s good thinking and it tells me you’re thinking like an intelligent adult.”

“Oh, really? That’s encouraging comment and is more or less what mum said. Now here’s my maturing advice to you, drop that Shannon.”

“Oh yeah, and why?”

Mackenzie told her brother that Shannon displayed little real emotional warmth and appeared very career-oriented and if that was correct she was unlikely to want children any time soon.

“You should go after that lawyer you introduced us to at the semi-final and we met again at the final. Several times my heart almost flipped when I glimpsed the way she looked at you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I best go to breakfast before mum bawls me out again for not eating.”

*  *

At the glittering function that evening in honour of Shannon and Lincoln, it was announced that they had fulfilled their requirements to be awarded their prizes. A short video presentation was screened of Lincoln’s screen-testing and entry into the contest and his performance to his ecstatic moment at the final, and included the horrific attack on his first choice of female to take to the island and of Shannon who substituted after her courageous attempt to prevent the fallen hostess from being bashed again.

 Then followed clips from Lincoln and Shannon filming of each other on the island, their triumphant return to Nandi, the flight home and their welcome home arrival back in Auckland.

Lincoln and Shannon were called on stage and asked to briefly sum up their experiences.

Lincoln went first and at the end of her summary Shannon asked Cecil the MC could she make an announcement, and he told her to proceed.

The crowd packed into the Dome hushed.

“Although I know this will disappoint some people, I wish to rebut speculation that Lincoln and I will marry. He and I discussed that speculation earlier today to ensure we were in agreement about this. We became good friends and on the island, became lovers but, as they say, no flame flared between us.”

“Folk it’s just the luck of the draw. We had never discussed marriage and Lincoln told me today he’s in no hurry to marry and I revealed to him that I am career-oriented and wish to progress up the promotion ladder. Well that’s the truth.”

“Yes,” Lincoln said, walking over to join Shannon. “Romance failed to fire and neither of us has regrets about that and we will remain friends.”

Cecil then called the injured hostess Silver Johns, who had her injured arm in a brace, to the stage. Under the rules of the game show when involved a substitute company to go to the island with the winner, Lincoln was presented in full with his prize for emerging from the contest as the ultimate victor, a cheque for US$100,000. Shannon and Silver each received US$50,000.

Silver kissed Lincoln and then clutched Shannon around the waist with her good arm and said loudly, “Thanks for looking after him so well, he looks great. I repeat my declaration at that final night, Sharon you probably saved my life from shielding that attempt to crush my skull.”

The applause faded, the lights dimmed and a comedian took to the stage to begin the line-up of entertainment prior to the sumptuous supper.

During supper, Lincoln found Julie standing beside him.

“Open up,” she said, a popped a prawn on a long stick into his mouth.

“Beautiful,” Lincoln said, pulling out the stick and munching the prawn.

“My message is wait for me patiently,” Julie stated. “From tomorrow I begin negotiation to end my marriage.”

Lincoln choked on the curry coated prawn.

“Good night darling,” Julie whispered. “I predict I’ll have good news for you by mid-week.”

“Christ,” Lincoln mutters, eyes glued to Julie’s swinging ass as she walking away. He thought he might be falling in love.


The End

© Copyright 2020 Grigor McGregor. All rights reserved.


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