Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 03

Sal smiled back. "We...shared. It was...memorable."

This was the opening April had been looking for. It wasn't hard to feign interest, although actually screwing Mark would be a hard sell. She was damn good herself - professionally trained – and she was pretty sure he wouldn't measure up. But it was worth a shot to see, plus she wanted to get into his head some more. She was fairly certain that a cretin such as he wouldn't be a mastermind behind the bank robberies, but he could also be the world's greatest scam artist. Sex, like playing certain games, reveals a lot, and it might give her more insight into who he was.

Sal, on the other hand, was a definite suspect. He was a little too charming. A little too reticent. A little too laid back. Almost too good to be true.

She even pressed him at one point, between rounds.

"No one at home for you?"

Sal looked away, and said to the screen, "No. Used to be, but her idea of a relationship and mine...wasn't the same."

April was curious.

"Can I ask what happened?"

Sal looked back at her with a tiny frown, stared for a second, then said, "We had a sort of open relationship. We weren't monogamous when we got together, and it was casual. As we got closer, well, we – she – deliberately kept that avenue open. She was up front about it, no sneaking around, and I was free to dabble too. I even did, a couple of times. But then I found out that she was basically working her way through my friends. There's sharing and there's being a town bike. It wasn't for me. We parted. I haven't really been that interested since."

He looked away again, finished.

April considered it. It explained a lot.

"Well, lets just have a great evening," was her not-exactly-brilliant response.

She had to get up several times to make drinks for others – Paula Woods in particular seemed intent on getting blasted, and April started to water down her drinks after her fifth Manhattan.

She noticed Sal and Mark deep in conversation, glancing over at her furtively. She gave them a big smile back.

By the end of the evening, after more socializing - they'd been joined by Bridget Fleshiman and Kim and Rashid Patel at various points - it was clear that both her partners were interested in other things. They kept glancing at each other and making "go on, ask her" motions to each other.

Eventually, just to get to the point, April stood up and said brightly, "Well, I'm off to bed. Anyone care to join me?"

One chair literally fell over as Sal stood up hurriedly, and Mark wasn't far behind.

They made it her room, April walking fast ahead.

She was taking her clothes off as they entered her room; she was naked in a second, and then jumped on her bed, sitting cross legged. She looked at the two men, who were standing next to each other, looking a little uncertain. Normally, they did the seduction.

She looked back and forth between the two men and then said, "If neither of you are going to fuck me, then this is going to be a looooonng night."

Which, as it turned out, was the prompt they needed. Both were naked in an instant, and April did notice that, yes, Mike Roschgord really was quite well equipped. It wasn't far off nine inches, if April was any guess. Inwardly she groaned. Her poor pussy was going to be sooooo sore tomorrow, after the almost non stop action so far.

She reached up and grabbed two condoms off the table and slapped them down on the bed and just looked expectantly at the two men, the statement unspoken but unmistakable.

They joined her on the bed and surprisingly, Sal started out with a kiss – on her neck. Light and feathery. Very unexpected.

Mark went straight for the tits, and was licking and sucking greedily on her nipples, flicking them with his tongue. Sal, however, was taking his time – or trying to, anyway – to warm April up, and she appreciated it.

After a few minutes of groping her tits, Mark got bored and went for the pussy, inserting two fingers, and finding April primed and wet, as she slightly pulled her legs apart to give him better access.

Sal continued on his kissing quest, moving from a heavy duty French kiss, down her neck to her boobs, so cruelly abandoned by Mark.

Dimly, April had to wonder at how good they were in terms of sharing and not getting in each other's way.

She was brought to orgasm by the combination of Marks fingers and Sal mouth on her breasts, and while it wasn't a major one, it was still a good feeling of release.

April realized right then and there, she was as much in control of this sex as she chose to be – she was the target, not the one handing out the experience, and she was all good with that. She'd still have to guide – when two men share a woman, it's a more complicated positional situation than when two women share a man. With two women, there's still only one dick – one woman is less likely to get in the way of another. With two men, who both have penises they'd like to see get attention, it takes a more delicate touch in terms of setting up the positions. April had seen more than one threesome become basically one man, climbing on, missionary style, leaning over and effectively shutting out the other man entirely. It took a woman with some experience to offer up positions where both men get something out of it at once.

And thankfully, she had that experience.

When Mark – after slapping on the condom - finally maneuvered himself to sink his large cock into April's more than willing – if slightly sore – pussy, she had already arranged herself so her mouth was easy access for Sal, who proceeded to get the blow job of the century. Or, at least, as good as April could give when she was being relentlessly pounded by Mark.

Mark had no style, but had raw masculinity and persistence – and a larger than average cock. He was all man, all about the pounding and none about any sophistication. And while it wasn't what April would have wanted in a lover for any period of time, it fit the moment perfectly. She was extremely distracted by just being pounded, and surrendered to it twice, before Sal slapped Mark on the shoulder and said, "My turn."

Mark stopped pounding, sweat dripping down his face, looked at Sal for a second, then reluctantly dismounted, allowing Sal to roll on his condom and climb on.

The difference was palpable. Sal was slightly smaller, but his technique was infinitely better. He used slower strokes, he watched April's reactions, and modified his position and approach based on it.

While Mark had been all size and power, Sal was all technique.

April got off twice more – that was 4 now, almost a record for her, and after twenty minutes more of the two swapping back and forth, and them changing positions, she was ready for the coup-de-grace – one in each hole.

She wasn't entirely sure about doing this, but in the end, the lust just simply took her and she wanted to try it, although with Sal in the ass, not Mark. She didn't need to be walking funny the next day.

In the end, she got off once more, and both men blew in side their condoms with a minute of each other.

Everyone was tired, sore, and dripping with sweat by the end of it. The bed was crowded, and April literally just tipped Sal and Mark off the bed, onto the floor and just pointed at the door, smiling tiredly at them.

Mark looked like he was about to say something, but didn't, and Sal just smiled back and whispered, "Fuck of the century!"

April was asleep by the time the door shut.

*****
The next day was one of silliness. Breakfast was casual and late – mostly people eating breakfast bagels with fried eggs and bacon in them. Some people preferred a bowl of fruit, and the division was almost completely along gender lines. It was refreshing to see that no one asked for a beer for breakfast. After seeing some of the guys put the beer away the night before, April wouldn't have put it past them to imagine some of them might have alcohol problems. Two of the husbands did ask April to whip them up a bloody Mary, but she was very light on the vodka. The way she made them, they were more something you ate than drank anyway.

But most appeared to have settled in to the way the life on the Island worked. Most understood what was on offer, and how it should be tackled. Brenda Roaker was still a little standoffish – even towards April, even after the afternoon they had shared the day before - but every one else seemed relaxed and determined to enjoy themselves. Even Mike and Paula Woods seemed to have kissed and made up.

April's professional eye noticed the small looks and touches that went with a successful marriage. Whatever they had gotten up to the last night, both had gotten something out of it, and it had made them reach out to each other. She did idly wonder if they had one of those marriages where, if everything was great, then everything was great, but when it was not, it was recrimination time. Then she shook herself and went on to make the requested espresso. There's no way she'd know, short of a full-on counseling session, and that was unlikely to happen any time soon.

The day continued, with Martin Steele pairing off people into small groups of two, deliberately breaking up husband and wife partnerships, and effectively holding an improvisation lesson on comedy on the sun deck. He went through some exercises with them, got them to understand what was expected of them, then out came lunch.

April, watching from the sides, was impressed with Steele. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to teach them to act silly, and with his control of the situation. If he wasn't gay, she would have considered having a run at him.

He even noticed her watching, and winked at her, and then dragged her, kicking and screaming, into the middle of an improvisational scene he was setting up.

April wasn't thrilled, but did her best, and to her own surprise, she had a good time, laughing with everyone else at the ridiculousness of the situations Steele came up with. In her scene, she was a shoe seller, who was trying to seduce the guy she was fitting shoes for, without the wife, who was right there, understanding what she was doing. She did remember some of the exercises she had to do when she was initially training for the job of field agent and remembered some of what she had to do then, and smiled internally.

All of the scenarios Steele suggested were risqué, a fact that was lost on no one. As lunch arrived – sushi or teriyaki bowls, for those who weren't sushi eaters – so did the booze. As the afternoon went on, the scenarios became more and more suggestive, and with the alcohol intake, so did the outrageous flirting. By the time the evening approached, it was basically a grown up version of Spin the Bottle.

April was kept busy generating pitchers of margaritas and being a bit actor in some of the scenarios. She noticed that Astrid and Sam were involved in almost every scene, and they actually weren't bad actors – they certainly weren't strangers to the idea of being on stage and performing. One more vote for her theory that they were porn stars.

When the evening arrived, there was no one feeling any pain. The booze was flowing, conversation was happening, cross pollination was happening and April had to admit how well Steele had taken a group of people who didn't know each other, and were a little nervous and uptight, relaxed them, got them flirting and enjoying each other.

For a few minutes, she wondered if he'd make a good field agent. He certainly had what it took. She made a mental note to talk to Dermot about it when she got back.

But, back to the problem at hand. While it had been fun all day, it was time to do something about Kevin Smith. All day, she'd been flirting with him with her eyes, sending him Come Hither looks and generally doing all the things a girl tends to do to show she is interested.

And it was apparent that he certainly was. Lots of broad smiles from him when she made eye contact.

As the evening meal approached, April was asked to do three massages, for Mark Roschild, Bridget Fleischman and Martin Steele himself. He smiled at April as he asked her, "Do you mind Tara? These things always get my back knotted up. Being 'on' all day takes it out of you."

After those were completed, when she finally sat down to eat, surprise surprise, Kevin Smith sat down next to her.

"And how are you tonight, Tara?" he asked, sitting down and putting a full plate of grilled chicken breasts, wrapped in bacon, smothered in BBQ sauce and stuffed with cheddar cheese in front of him.

April smiled coquettishly, and toyed with the remains of the salad she had on her plate. "I'm fine, thank you," she said, in her best 'little girl lost' voice. She'd already decided he would respond best to a more submissive persona than that of a dominant one, although she was ready to switch if that was what she judged he needed.

As it was, she needn't have bothered.

"How are you enjoying it, on the Island?" he asked, obviously groping for subjects to talk about.

"It's lovely. So much better than home" She sighed, giving him the opening he needed to ask about her home life.

"I would imagine it's better than almost anywhere." He looked out at the sun setting on the water. He was slick. Very slick. Professionally, April tipped her hat at him. He was good. So good, she had trouble believing he wasn't trained. Her warning meter went up a notch.

"So, where are you from Tara?"

April went into her cover story – college girl, fallen on hard times, doing whatever to get by. He nodded appropriately, even took her hands to look in her eyes at the correct moments. Again, she mentally watched as he attempted a slow, methodical and very smooth seduction.

At certain points, she made a point of looking around, seeing what was going on. In her position, you had to be aware of what was going on, if onlyto plan ahead.

Everyone else was pairing off, or constructing threesomes. It was interesting to note that not one of the original couples was actually still together, in terms of who they were pairing off with. That, in itself, was quite interesting, from a couples counseling point of view, but April forced herself to return to her conversation. She had business here, and she needed to see it through. She was convinced this was the man she needed to get alone, to find out how he was doing the bank robberies, and getting him alone was a delicate task. For what she planned, it had to be done right.

"So, Tara, you've seen what is going on here, right? I'm guessing you are no stranger to this kind of thing?" He asked, followed her lead, looking around at the other groups of people.

April thought fast about how to respond. There were several ways to go – mock offended, "Sir, what do you think I am?", the flirty giggle "Kevin, what must you think of me?", the non-committal response, or perhaps an outright suggestion they go fuck. Many options.

She settled for a simple response, "It hasn't escaped my notice, no."

He smiled and leaned forward. "And what's your position on it?"

An obvious double entendre. Very carefully putting the ball in her court, so his response could be tailored to how she answered.

In for a penny, in for a pound,she thought.

"Usually on all fours," she replied, going for the explicit approach. She had timed it carefully; Kevin was just taking a drink and she saw him gag, making her smile.

He coughed a bit, put his drink down and looked at her, re-appraising her. She just looked back, with a very Mona Lisa smile on her face, giving nothing else away.

"I see." He said, after a moment of very obvious consideration. "In fact, that's something I'd really like to see." He asked the last in the form of a question, even though it was a statement.

Not a very inspired line April thought, but it was enough.

"My room?"

He smiled back at her, the kind of smile where the whole face lights up.

It was too bad he was a bad guy,thought April,he's cute.And slick.

They both rose and walked to the circular stairs, down to the room deck. The moment they were out of sight of everyone else, Kevin grabbed, her and pressed against the wall, kissing her hard. It was surprising and she felt herself responding, feeling the erection he was pushing into her hip.

It was a full on kiss, full of urgency and desire, and she broke it after a moment later, just to get some air. He grinned at her and said, "That's on account. I'll collect in a bit."

April was not entirely sure what he meant by that, but by then it really didn't matter.

Two minutes later they were in her room. She'd locked the door after him, making a show of it, and he'd thrown himself on her bed, sitting up and looking at her.

"One thing I have to do, " she said, licking her lips at him. And she went to the drawers, where her clothes were, hiding the contents of the draw with her body. She opened the draw and removed the assembled Taser – where she'd put it earlier, preparing for this moment - and with one move, turned and fired at the man on her bed.

The two metal barbs shot out, with the coiled metal filament trailing behind, and hit him square in the abdomen. She was concerned about that for a second – her research had shown that where a taser hit could change the reaction of the victim. Hit them in the wrong place and their bowels could let go. She really didn't need to be dealing with shit everywhere. Thankfully, Kevin didn't let his ass go – he just went rigid and did that muscle dance that people do when they've lost control of their muscles, making an "urrrgggh" noise.

She gave him one jolt, and then pressed the button that retracted the barbs. The Taser would need about five minutes to recharge, and she knew the effect wouldn't last that long.

Quickly and efficiently, she pulled Smith's body onto the bed, and hooked his arms and legs up to the prepared corners of the bed, using plastic ties. Those hooked into scarves she'd tied to the legs of the bed earlier, and artfully hidden, since the ties themselves wouldn't reach. All the time, she was watching Smith's eyes, as they slowly refocused and became aware.

Once she was done, she sat on the end of the bed, holding the Taser, watching him come back to consciousness. The moment she judged he was capable of comprehension, she held up both a pack of socks and the Taser.

"Right, Mr. Smith – or whatever your real name is – let's talk. Or more to the point, I'll talk. You listen. First, make a noise and you'll get another jolt of this."

She saw his eyes go to the Taser and widen a bit. He didn't want that.

"And then I put these in your mouth. And I've worn them, so they won't taste good." She said, indicating the pack of socks.

"What... what do you want?" he asked, weakly.

"We'll get to that. First, I want you to understand the position you are in. Everyone is drunk and, not to put too fine a point on it, fucking. You scream or make any noise and they are just going to think we are going at it. And when it comes down to it, I can Tase you all I want, and then dump you in the ocean and no one would notice. Or care, I suspect. So, it's your choice. Answer some questions, honestly, or be in pain and die. It's up to you."

The last part was entirely made up, but he didn't know that. She just stared at him, making her face as cold and unresponsive as she could.

His eye's kept going from the Taser, to hers, and she could see enough control had returned to him that he was testing his bound limbs. He kept his eyes on her, hoping she wouldn't see what he was doing.

"What have I done to you? I just was trying to get laid..." there was just the hint of some bluster in there.

April smiled at him, one of her best 'lipless and bloodless' smiles, that didn't reach the eyes.