Friends reunited.

Rachel was the first to answer. “I am just one of a bunch of wives to the Chief of my island. I stay his favourite as long as I continue to give him sons.” Indeed, Rachel had already given birth to three boys and her chief-slash-husband Sam’ielu was keen for a fourth to try and keep pace with his nine daughters from his five other wives.

“I don’t know how he has the stamina for so many women,” Lana laughed.

“My Sam’ielu is a warrior born and bred for countless generations. I don’t dare bring you girls home to my island or else he might want to impregnate all five of us at once,” Rachel laughed, which was quickly shared by the rest of the group.

“And is it the same for you?” Laura asked, intrigued by the situation also.

“I am free to take anyone into my bed, same as he. They may just have to challenge for Tribal Chief should they implant a boy within me.”

Meg was mystified. “What about you, Diane?” she asked next.

“I can barely keep Winston out of the help,” Diane said, which drew another chuckle from all the girls except Meg. Seeing her friend didn’t share the same sense of humour, Diane elaborated for her dear friend. “It’s a very British thing to do, you understand. I think he’s been rogering the staff ever since he had his very first nanny. Who am I to stop him?”

“And do you too?” Meg asked.

“Oh, of course not. Stanley, our steward, is much too old for that. I’d be lying if I said there hadn’t been a tennis coach or two over the years, though.”

It seemed to Meg that all the women were in agreement. Rachel and her chief with all his wives. Diane and her husband Winston, with the help. Laura and Stuart's open marriage. Lana and Terry Lou weren’t married, but Meg didn’t want to make any more of a thing out of it by asking if they too had an arrangement. Meg guessed she would just have to leave it to her own personal choice if she was willing to engage in some extramarital fun while at the resort.

The rest of the dinner flowed easily. It always did when all the girls were together. They’d been blessed to have found such a strong group of dear friends as they had. Each of them had worried that they would drift apart as they got older due to the complexities of life, but they hadn’t. The trips may have become further in between, but they were still just as close as they’d ever been.

The resort had the most wonderful chefs on staff. Meg’s personal favourite of the many dishes they’d been brought was a Spice Island Style Mahi-Mahi Ceviche. It was in between one of the many courses that Meg had caught Diane slipping a room key to the waiter boy who had been admiring her delicate petals. The way his cock surged and remained like that for the rest of the evening guaranteed that he knew what was in store for himself later that night.

It was a glorious reunion for the long-time friends. Drinks flowed continuously thanks to Diane’s enamoured serving boy. All manner of intricately carved pineapples, melons and other tropical fruit were delivered to the ladies' table, containing potent cocktails that acted more like aphrodisiacs. The hot sun and strong liquor had Meg’s head swimming, not to mention the talk about secret affairs and holiday rendezvous. When Diane excused herself first from the group with a certain waiter heading in the direction of their English friend’s chalet soon afterwards, Meg’s bare pussy had long begun to weep and growl for attention. She felt so horrendously sinful to be virtually naked amongst her best friends as she dripped her arousal down the insides of her thighs. Her and Laura’s lesbian tryst out on the jet skis was the precursor that had completely started her reactor. Meg needed a control rod inside her or her pussy was likely to melt down.

Follow Meg, Diane and the waiter, or the other three girls?