Pleasure Island, Chapter 1 - 3

Chapter One (Chelsea): Oh No You Didn't

It was the beginning of Monsson season in the Tampa Bay Area where I lived. Spring. Sudden showers out of nowhere and then the clouds would part, the sun would shine and it would look as if it had never rained.

I was working with a group of aspiring makeup artists at an event showing them some new techniques. How to blend, contour, and make bold eye makeup. The class was great. I made 500 dollars after paying the studio for the use of the space.

I decided to stop at this Jamaican spot to get some oxtails, rice, and peas before heading home. Since my boyfriend was half Jamaican and I couldn't cook Jamaican food, I liked to surprise him with food from his favorite spot.

I knew it would be at least two hours before he'd arrive home for the day. He worked at a cellphone shop. And normally got off around 4:00 pm. I planned to clean the house, take a nice shower, have the food set out, and later fuck his brains out on the sofa.

I walked with a little pep in my step excited about my plan to surprise him. We had been having issues but I was determined to work on our relationship. He was good-looking standing at six feet two inches tall, with cocoa brown skin, sexy hazel eyes, thick brows, these pretty peach lips, and an amazing head full of tightly curled hair.

I got to our apartment. I placed the food on the counter. I noticed there were a few glasses on the counter. My eyebrows furrowed. I didn't clean the whole apartment every day but I always cleaned the kitchen because I hated dirty dishes.

I placed the three glasses inside the dishwasher. As I began to straighten the living room, I heard distinct sounds pouring from the hallway that led to our main bedroom. I shook my head and immediately I developed a knot in my throat. I made haste down the hall and pushed open the door.

There was my handsome boyfriend with his ass cheeks clenched as he fucked one raggedy lace front wig-wearing heifer from behind as she ate the other bitch's pussy, "No, No, No, Ashton! Not again!"

He pulled from her pussy and looked at me, "Baby, it's not what you think. I swear."

"Get the fuck out of my home!" I screamed at those two whores. How the fuck do you screw a man in a house where his woman's stuff is all over the place? I shook my head as they ran by me. But how could I be mad at them when he brought them into our home?

He stood there naked. He was wearing a condom for that I applauded him. He looked at me with those hazel eyes which usually made me weak. "Babe, I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry Ashton. If you were sorry, you wouldn't keep doing it."

He sucked his teeth.

"How would you like it if I brought a bunch of dudes in here and fucked them. Maybe I should do that."

He laughed as if the possibility was not there. I was a good-looking woman and I often got hit on by numerous men, "I should give you a dose of your own medicine. Yeah!"

"Girl quit playing. You better not bring no dudes up in this house where I pay the bills."

"Half. I pay half. So."

I left him standing in the room. I went into the closet. He attempted to grab me, I jerked away. He pulled me in, "Look. I promise it won't happen again. Let's go sit and talk about it."

We went to the kitchen. He saw the food. He pulled it out and started eating. It was at that moment I realized he was not going to change until I did something drastic. It had to be bold enough for him to get the picture.

"You want some of this babe?" he asked with his mouth full of food. I shook my head. Inside I was a category five hurricane. How could a man that I loved so much provoke me to want to stab his eyes with a fork? All the shit I had done and he didn't value any of it. He would find out soon enough I was done.

Chapter Two (Ashton): Oh Well...

I'm an attractive guy and I'm not just saying that to puff myself up. Whenever I'm out and about the ladies do take notice. I typically go for a certain type, light skin to medium brown tone with long wavy hair. But when I first saw Chelsea five years ago, my jaw dropped.

This woman was insanely beautiful. Her java skin tone and velvety smooth skin drew me in, and when I stepped to her and said, "You pretty for a dark skin girl."

She looked me up and down and said, "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

I had to laugh and reply, "My bad. You're right. You're gorgeous. Period."

After that, we started kicking it pretty heavily. She was still in cosmetology school becoming a licensed esthetician and makeup artist. And I was doing my thing working at the cellphone company not far from where we now live.

Honey was a virgin. I taught her everything she knows. I love me some Chelsea but sometimes she just doesn't get it. Before I met her, I was always dated, multiple women. Most girls were cool with it but she put her foot down and said if I wanted to stay with her we had to be exclusive.

Exclusive. Exclusive. Sex with just one woman, yo that shit was crazy. I did it for like three months while I was teaching her the ropes. She got good fast but I still had that taste for my light skin sistas. She caught me a few...okay a bunch of times but shit I always wore condoms when I was with those other women.

I do admit, when I started bringing the chicks to our apartment is where I fucked up. But I knew how to make her forgive me.

After I finished eating, I played my video game for about an hour. I heard the shower running. I went to the bedroom got undressed and went inside there. I put my hand on her chin lifted her face and kissed her mouth nastily.

She tried to act like she was still mad but once lifted her leg and dove into her center she was humming. Chelsea had some good pussy too. Once I started stroking it nice and slow and hit that spot just right, she'd wet my dick all up with her nectar.

This was the remedy. I'd act up, she'd catch me, I fuck her real good, I'd behave for a few months and we'd start all over again. It was our thing. And this time would be no different. I had her singing in a falsetto clawing up my back. I shot inside of her but I wasn't done. I knew I was going to have to put her to sleep.

As soon as she dried off and went into the bedroom to change, I picked her light ass up and tossed her on the bed. I spread her legs and licked up and down her center until she cried. My dick was rock hard again. I pushed it inside and went to work.

I lifted her off the bed and bounced her on my shaft. She had some big breasts which I loved to suck. I felt her pussy leaking all over my balls. I knew she'd be cool by morning. Once I wore that ass out, we went to sleep.

When I woke up to get ready for work, I made sure I gave her the dick one more time to help her remember why she wasn't leaving. I spooned her and worked her pussy from behind. When he started playing with her clitoris and pushing back on my dick...I knew it was a wrap.

My sweet beautiful Chelsea had forgiven me. She talked that shit about fucking other dudes. I knew she wasn't about that life. It took me six months to get in her pants.

I went to work and did my thing. I got off around 4:30 pm. On Fridays, bae liked to eat Thai food and sit on the couch and watch movies. I stopped at her favorite spot and got her chicken and pineapple fried rice. I headed home.

I was at home for almost an hour waiting for her to get home from doing faces. I checked my phone. I didn't have any text messages from her and that wasn't like Chelsea. She would text me a couple of times throughout the day even if it was just something inspirational or a funny meme.

I called her phone and it went straight to voicemail. I thought maybe her phone needed to be charged. I had a friend call her and she didn't even answer them. I shook my head and went to the bedroom. I checked the closet, all her stuff was gone.

I laughed, "Ha, ha Chelsea, you trying to prank me? You put your stuff in the guest bedroom to see how I'd react if I thought you were leaving?" I went to the guest room but her stuff wasn't there.

I checked her social media accounts. She had deleted all her pages. Yo, her Instagram had over 60K followers. I went to our bathroom and found a letter taped on the mirror with an envelope. I opened it and read it:


Dear Ashton,

I'll make this short and sweet. I love you. However, I love myself more. I refuse to keep letting you do me like you have been when I have been nothing but good to you. I'm going off the grid for a while. Don't try to contact me. None of my friends know about what transpired. I'm giving you this opportunity to see if you truly want to live without me.

I left you some money to help cover the cost of my half of the bills since I'm leaving on such short notice. It wasn't all bad.

Take Care,


I couldn't believe it. I crumpled the letter. "Giving me time to see if I can live without you, girl bye. I was good before I met you. I'll be fine if you go."

I went to my living room, "Oh well," I said to myself. I picked up my game controller. "I wasn't ready to be with just one woman. Maybe it was for the best.

Chapter Three (Chelsea): Off To Pleasure Island

That morning was hard. It's hard to walk away from five years even if the man I loved was a fuckboy. He was all I knew. And that night he spent working my body over almost made me change my mind. I was so close to forgiving him and falling right back into the same destructive behavior.

Even that morning workout had me second-guessing myself. Did I really want to leave? Most of the furniture in the apartment was purchased by me. Fuck it, I thought. He can have all this shit. I'm about to go out and get my slut on.

I wrote the letter and left him $2000.00. Most women would not have left shit. But see, even in my anger, I still cared about him. I wondered if he knew how much.

I shook my head in disbelief and aggravation. He had no idea what he was about to lose. I was a top-rated makeup artist with brand deals. I never divulged all of my financial information to him because he wanted to keep separate accounts. Every month I would transfer money to his account.

Being a top makeup artist in the area allowed me to meet all kinds of people, football players' wives, basketball players' wives, actresses, singers, and musicians. One of my best and favorite clients was this real estate tycoon named M. Nina Howard, whom I called Auntie Nina.

Her husband was a contractor and she was a real estate agent. They worked together for many years acquiring properties and renovating them. Some they would sell, others they'd rent and some they had as vacation rentals.

This woman had money on top of money. Her husband passed away two years ago and she became even more wealthy. And since her husband's death, she was exploring her sexuality to the fullest. Every time I went to see Auntie Nina, she had a story to tell about some young man she had been with all night long.

She often gave me advice on my situation with Ashton. I never listened to her thinking I knew better. But that morning, I remembered her saying, "If you ever need a place to stay for a time, don't hesitate to come to see me."

So, I was on my way to see her.


I pulled up to one of the vacation rental properties. She was standing outside. Her short-cropped silver hair shined in the sunlight and her youthful face glowed. If it weren't for her silver hair, one wouldn't know she was in her sixties.

I walked up to her and hugged her, "You're a lifesaver, Auntie Nina."

She chuckled, "Oh stop, I can't live in ten houses at once, might as well let a friend use one."

We went inside. She showed me around the place. I told her about what happened. She smiled, "At least now you're finally seeing the light. But."

"What?" I asked as we stood in the kitchen.

"I just think you need to get away. Out of this state. Away from him and the noise. I own properties and land everywhere you know. I have an island about an hour's boat ride off the coast. It's beautiful. It typically stays busy in the spring and summer but no one but my nephew and a few others are there now."

"Hmmm, I mean—"

"I'll set everything up. Don't even try to back out of this. If you'll end up back at that apartment doing the same foolish stuff."

"You're right."

I let her make the arrangements. If I didn't in a week, I'd be back at the apartment with my legs spread east and west as Ashton drilled my wet paradise for dear life. As I sat on the bed thinking about the morning, my heart ached. He was my first. However, before I could sulk long, Auntie Nina burst into the room with the details and told me to get up and grab my bags. I was on my way to the airport.


I arrived at the airport late evening. Then I had instructions to take a train to the other side of town toward the coast. When I lived at the station, I waited in the area for my guide...Justin McDonald the nephew of Auntie Nina.

As I stood scrolling through my cell phone, I happened to look up and saw this insanely gorgeous creature approaching me. I was like, ain't no way that's the dude. In my mind when she said she had a nephew that lived on a secluded island most of the year...I was thinking he was some goofy-looking dude with zero swag.

Yet, there was a brilliant smile headed my way. Jet black hair, dazzling blue eyes, a tanned complexion, a chiseled jawline, an intense gaze, and a scruffy beard. "Hello, Justin, you must be Chelsea."

I reached out my hand to shake his, "I'm her." I almost couldn't speak. I had to send her a text message, "You didn't tell me that your nephew was totally fuckable. You're about to get me in trouble."

She replied, "What happens on the island stays there. Have fun."