Paradise

"Welcome to Montserrat, Sir, Madam. Your good names please?"

"I am Mr. James Ghiwhite, and this is my daughter Mrs. Sarah Edward. We - actually, she and her husband were supposed to - want to stay here for a week; I believe it was previously arranged."

"Oh, yes. Here it is - your reserved room is HMP 2." The desk clerk, whose nameplate pegged him as Charlie, rang a bell. Almost instantly, a young boy of not more than sixteen came out of the back room. Charlie motioned towards the baggage. "Take these to HMP 2."

I did not understand why the bellboy gave me a funny look. Granted, I look my forty-one years of age, and my daughter looks her twenty-one, but - and then the realization hit me. He must've thought we were newlyweds - a sugar daddy and his fortune-hunting wife. Pointedly ignoring him, I turned my attention back to the clerk. "HMP? Never heard of such a system before. What does it stand for - hill, mountain, and p-something?"

Charlie laughed. "Not quite. Actually, it stands for Honeymoon Package."

Honeymoon package?

"Excuse me, but did you just say our room is a honeymooners' suite?"

"Absolutely, sir. I must say room 2 is one of the best among the islands."

I stared at the young man, gauging the fragility of his head. "Didn't you hear what I just said? This woman with me is my daughter. Not my wife. To spell it out, I am not here on a honeymoon."

For an instant, the smile receded. Almost immediately, though, it was back. "Our apologies, Sir. We never thought of it that way. Mrs. Edward, please accept our apologies - unfortunately, the fact must have missed your husband's mention when we talked."

Sarah, my beautiful, beautiful daughter, smiled disarmingly at the growing fidgeting of the guy. "No problem," she said brightly. "We'll take it."

Now I stared at my daughter. Here we were, on an exotic island, father and daughter, for a stay of one week, and she was suggesting that we spend it in a honeymooner's paradise! Noticing my startled expression, which the poor fellow misunderstood as panic, he offered a way out - "We can put you in single rooms if you want, Sir. It would be a bit of trouble to find adjacent ones, but if you so wish -"

"Nonsense!" interrupted my daughter. "Stop being so fussy, Daddy. Relax. It's just a room to spend the night; after all, you didn't come to this island paradise just to be cooped up in a room, did you? Besides, we will be out most of the time, sunning and shopping. Not to mention sightseeing. Come on."

Before I could even lodge a protest, she was hustling me towards the garden door, after the bellboy. The air outside was fresh, tropical. It was a relief to get away from the dead of winter, back home, with all the rush and traffic of pre-Christmas crowds. The palm trees that dotted the border of the small terrace along which we were walking provided an excellent canopy, keeping the sand beneath our feet cool. It's amazing how careful planting can really cool a place with its shade - after having seen its cousins back in LA, I had thought that the only thing that the trees were good for was for providing a divider between opposite lanes.

Out here, they were in their true spirit, I suppose, in true synchronization with their parent environment. The climate was absolutely wonderful, the greenery fresh and almost as tempting as the blue waters that I could see through the clumps. The shore extended for about a hundred meters of sand and skin, before sinking slowly into the languid waters of the ocean. And even though a gentle breeze was present, I could hear the free lapping of the little waves against the shore.

Sarah linked her arms through mine as we walked towards our suite. On the outside, it looked okay, bigger and in a more secluded region than the rest of the cabins. There was in fact, no room as such - all were cabins, some standing by themselves, and others gathered in a clump at the other end of the resort - these were probably the ones the clerk had offered in exchange. I was glad we had refused - even at this distance, I could make out quite a lot of people there.

Then I thought of how I got to be here in the first place.

Eddie, as I called my son-in-law, was a US Navy Sailor, and damn proud of it. His marriage to my daughter, as far as my knowledge went, was his first, and I had proudly walked her down the aisle a couple of years ago, after his character satisfied me. He was quite a sincere fellow, caring and affectionate, and to boot it all, an orphan - so no lousy in-laws to entertain every other weekend. Both my wife and I had a very high opinion of the lad, as he seemed to have of us.

The only drawback of his work was that it often took him out on the seas for as long as four or five months. It left my daughter enough time to complete her studies, and yet live with the dependence and freedom of a wife. Her life was secure, for Eddie was not the sort of guy who had a girl in every port. In fact, the only other female I've ever seen him with is a girl called Rebecca, a fellow sailor or something.

Apparently, his fraternity had held a Christmas draw - the prize being a week's all-expenses-paid stay here in M'serrat, and he had won. At the last moment, though, duty called - but rather than let an opportunity go waste, Eddie asked me if I could take Sarah on the trip. I had been reluctant at first, but when my wife seemed to have no objection to the idea, I accepted it. Eddie's only request was that I keep her from getting too promiscuous.

We reached the cabin.

There was a small porch in front, a hammock suspended from its roof and a cane sofa with a table fan beside it. A cane-ensconced light hung from the wooden ceiling, providing enough light for reading at night. For the moment, though, it was unnecessary; it was just two in the afternoon. A wooden railing ran along the length of the porch, the door to the cabin at its other end. The varnished look gave a cooled look to the surface.

I tipped the bellboy absently, still entranced by the lazy beauty of the Caribbean. My daughter hugged me from behind, the gentle breeze prodding her sweet perfume into my nostrils. I felt her breasts press against the back of my stomach, and had the briefest of arousals when I remembered the mistake the bellboy had made. I forced the thought out of my mind before it could start spinning fantasies - as it had over three years ago. I wasn't about to be drawn into that moral battle again.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice asked near my left ear.

"Lovely. But not as much as my darling daughter, just getting there."

She squeezed me harder, a sign that she was pleased. "You are just always saying that." This was just a woman's humility - she was pleased to the point that she wouldn't acknowledge it.

"I mean it," and I sincerely did, "You are still the prettiest sight on earth."

"Thanks, Daddy. You are not so bad yourself. In fact, Mom made me promise not to let you out of my sight; says you are too good-looking for your age. And as usual, she is right."

Now it was my turn to act modest. "Awww! You always say that... when you want to buy something costly! Come on, out with it - how much do you want?"

She pinched my stomach playfully. "Not this time. Just wanted to let you know that you look good enough."

"For what?"

"For me."

I pondered over her answer, without having any idea why I was. In a perverted way of reasoning, I could interpret it in as many ways as I wanted. It wasn't the words as much as the tone that, on retrospect, I am sure made me think twice about a possible rejoinder. Finally, I just decided to let the conversation fade into silence. Most conversations are ruined by a word too much. Instead, with her hugging me, I took in a snapshot of the paradise around me.

"The water looks inviting. What say we accept?" I said finally, breaking up what could have been an interminable moment of silence.

Sarah slowly slid her arms off my body, trailing them down to my waist before breaking contact. "Okay. Let's change."

I followed her into our room. Room - the name was an understatement. It was very tastefully decorated, the Caribbean origin very evident. It was a huge room, with a door halfway between the walls that I guessed led to the bathroom. There was another door opposite the entrance, but I had no idea where that led. What grabbed my attention, though, were the pictures on the roof, right above the bed. There were around seven of them, arranged in a semicircle in such a way that a person waking up sees them first thing in the morning.

All the pictures showed various positions of Kamasutra, the Indian text on lovemaking. I was immediately taken in by the sheer beauty of the artwork - the characters almost seemed to come alive. I was also aware that Sarah had riveted her attention too on the decoration, and a deep intake of breath suggested that she hadn't entirely been unfazed by the sight. The two painted bodies seemed to be in their own dance for the universe, oblivious to the fact that they were being watched. In seven positions they took each other, a look of pleasure on their faces.

I shocked myself by asking, "Tempting, isn't it?"

Sarah did not immediately reply. For a moment, I panicked. Damn that hidden nut of a fantasy! I couldn't, under any circumstances, even let her know that I did lust after her. I tried to cover up my inappropriate remark. "Too bad Eddie isn't here. I mean, this would have been just right for you..."

Sarah smiled sweetly at me, disguising whatever she had thought of my remark and me. Then she gazed up at the ceiling once more, and said, still looking up, "You don't know how much..." I took it to mean that she missed him a lot.

Silence rented the air again.

Abruptly, Sarah went to the bathroom. "Got to wash my face," she threw over her shoulder as I stared at her firm ass wiggle with her steps. Her mini-skirt barely reached halfway down her thighs, with a raised hem at the back that allowed for a splendid view of the creamy skin reaching into her depths. I licked my lips absently, imagining how it would be to have my lips explore the shade between her legs. Voila! A hard-on!

Once again, as was increasingly becoming my tendency, I panicked. Sarah had barely closed her door when my hand went to my crotch, looking for some way to relieve the tension. I did not want my daughter to see me with an erection, with her being the obvious instigator. It never occurred to me that I could pile the blame on the erotica above me.

I quickly chucked off my pants and put on the tightest pair of inelastic swimming trunks that I had. I hoped the material was strong enough to rein in my 'enthusiasm' - at least until I could safely get under water and out of sight. Thankfully, it was.

It was less than a minute before Sarah came out. My jaw dropped to the floor as I stared at her bikini - or rather, the lack of it. She was topless! Her young breasts, firm and steady, topped with pink nipples that stared straight at me, were faultless, not a hint of a discrepancy anywhere. They were pale, though, and the slow flush that was gathering inside them was increasingly becoming prominent. I knew my daughter was watching me watch her, but I just couldn't take my eyes off her chest.

"I never thought these were that great, Daddy!"

I managed to meet her amused eyes. I didn't know what to say - how do you appraise your daughter's breasts when they are displayed so proudly to you? Do you say they are beautiful, aware of what it suggested, or would you be a conservative father, a true father, and tell her that they were alright and reminded you of her mother's?

"They sure are," I replied. The remark was tame enough to offer me a way out. "Now why don't you go put on your top, so that we can finally get down to serious swimming?"

Sarah walked over to me, her tits juggling gloriously within five feet of my touch. "Always the wise guy, huh? In case you didn't know, this beach is topless - and that, dear father of mine, is just the general section. Our private beach -"

"Our what beach?"

"You didn't know that we had a private beach - shame, Daddy, that's why Mom always says you should read the brochure more. HMP's have exclusive beaches for themselves, totally isolated and inaccessible from the rest of the island. Anything is permitted, and that goes for nudity too... So if you want to see me nude, just tell me to take off my bottoms."

Take off your bottoms!

Instead, I just nodded. God knew how many more surprises awaited me - first, being pegged that I was on a honeymoon with my daughter, then all these erotic pictures, Sarah's toplessness, and now, finally, she was offering me what was probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see her nude. My cock twitched uneasily again, and I shifted uneasily when the trunks pressed heavily against my dick.

Sarah caught my movement, and grinned at me. She stuck her tongue out at me - a sign of defiance that she had always given me when she was little - and then hooked her hands in the waistline of her bottoms. For a moment I feared - and wished - that she was going to remove them. As if gauging my indecision, she moved it down just a couple of centimeters below her hip. The sight of the hipbones of this scantily clad creature almost made me reach out and pull the thin material completely down her legs.

In the manner of a model, my daughter turned around and walked towards the backdoor. It was then that I realized that the triangle in front was practically her only attempt at covering herself, for at the back, the bottom was reduced to a strand of fiber that ran along the crack of her cheeks to the vertex that hid her crotch from view. When the door was opened, the gentle breeze outside entered, bringing to my nose more of her delicious scent. The delicious scent of a woman.

By the time I had gathered my senses, Sarah was already out of the door and heading down the sandy path to a small woods, from beyond which I could hear the seagulls. From behind, especially at this distance, it appeared as if she were nude. A nude goddess walking along the sandy shores of an island. She was my daughter, and yet, the unyielding and unattainable object of my fantasies. All my denials were breaking up; I wanted her, and I wanted her bad. Fortunately, there was still the father in me, and so rather than carry her off into the woods and take her, I walked with her towards the water.

Her blonde hair flung carelessly over her shoulder, I was denied the sight of her left nipple by the golden tresses. The other pink top was standing proud and erect, a darker hue giving it a sensuous touch. Her breasts were large for her frame, but at a profile shot, the curves of her body seemed to be more emphasized than ever. It took all my will power not to reach out and touch them, maul them, taste them, and hell, I could think of a lot of other things I could do with them. As if wanting to tease me further, Sarah moved even closer and put her arms over my shoulder, the action causing the side of her breast to rub against my skin.

The touch was nothing short of electric.

Somehow, we managed to reach the shores without being diverted to some obscure and private corner of the island. At the sight of the water, we ran towards it, splashing into it with a big jump. Our inhibitions forgotten, pretty soon, we were engaged in a wet tickling contest. Sarah never complained even when my hand accidentally (yeah, sure!) brushed against her nipples - and in fact, she seemed to be maneuvering herself for such contact.

I lunged at her playfully, over some cheeky remark she had made. She laughed, trying to move at the very last moment. Being in water made rapid escape impossible, and I ended up slamming face first into her cleavage as a wave rolled over us. The impact sunk us both for a couple of seconds, Sarah instinctively reaching for something to grab on to. Her fingers found my hair, and she pressed against my head, pushing my face even deeper into her bosom. The feel of her firmness against my cheeks was highly ... satisfactory, I must say, for I felt a strange relaxation wash over me.

When we surfaced, my face was still in the wedge between her breasts. Since this was supposed to be a tickling contest, I decided to land my cheap shot - I darted my tongue out and licked the wet skin. This time, Sarah moaned, a genuine cry of animal pleasure. The sound encouraged me, for it meant she liked it. As I said, my defenses were breaking up - so if she did like it, then perhaps we would...

Another rise of the water threw us off balance, the change of position taking my face away from her sweet body. Once again I lunged towards her, but the little minx moved away and went under. I was puzzled - what was she doing? - and then I felt her hands on my trunks. Reflexively, for I was not still prepared to go all over and beyond the line, I tried to pull away without kicking her. My motion served her purpose; before I knew it, she got the trunks off and came up again.

"Give me that!" I said, unsure of how much I meant it.

"Oh, really?" she asked, a sexy pout framed by her lips. "Big Poppa bear looks angry. Why don't you go get it? The water ought to cool you off." With that, she flung my trunks even farther away, with greater power than I believed she had. The suit fell into the receding water, the current quickly carrying it away. It was still reachable, of course, but I would probably have to burn up all of my muscles to get to it.

"And while you are at it, why don't you get this too?"

Her bottom followed my suit into the open ocean. Now we were both naked, and for want of anything less controversial, I followed the passage of our garments into the open ocean.

"Don't be such a prude, Daddy. It's not like you are raping me or anything... Besides, I am an adult, and the last time I checked, you were too. Let's just have fun, alright. Flirting with you is so much fun!"

Another wave struck us from the sides, pushing our bodies together until... contact! Once again, the only word that comes to mind is electricity; the touch of her warm body combined with the knowledge that it was totally naked was enough to turn me on like never before. I had never thought I would ever be so overawed by the physical concepts of lovemaking, but just the mere feel of her pressing against me changed all that. I wondered how it would feel to have that body entwined around me...

Sarah saw the look of desire in my eyes, a look that reflected her own. It was not just of desire, it was also of a love that went beyond every accepted convention of man. Of a love that exists between a father and his daughter. Of a love that exists between the married father and his adult daughter.

Married!!!???

I pulled away the second before our lips touched. I had just forgotten a very important fact - both of us, not either one, but both of us, were still married to loving spouses. If we had been single, I wouldn't have been so particular, for an affair then would be no one else's business but our own.

But she had a husband. One who had sent her with me so that she would be happy. One who had asked me to keep an eye on her. I was getting an eyeful alright, but wasn't I betraying him? A part of the conscience was telling me I was. "We can't do it," I told her, "We shouldn't!"

"And why not?"

"In case you don't remember, it was your husband who sent me here. And your mother. Because they trusted me, and they trusted you. If something does happen, how will we face them? More importantly, how will we face each other? One week is hardly enough to satiate our desire, and then what will we do? Sneak off and risk getting caught? Cops -"

"God, you are such a worrywart!" Sarah broke up my tirade. "Here we are, on this delightful island, alone and horny, and you are worrying about two very open-minded people three thousand miles away. Before you even ask it, Dad, no, I am not worried over Eddie's reaction. In fact, when he knew he couldn't come, he asked me to invite you. He knows the way I think of you, Dad, and he doesn't mind. To quote him, 'At least, I can get your father to keep you down when I am gone. And you don't even have to make the spare bedroom ready - he could sleep with you instead...'"