But even in that one word I caught a trace of an accent, though it was not the accent of the island. "What is your name?" I asked. "I am... Samantha," the woman said. I stared again. "Samantha," I repeated. "Yes." I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "There is a woman named Samantha who lives on the other side of the island," I said. "The wife of an English government official. She . . . she looks somewhat like you. Are you aware of this?" The. Then we heard footsteps and "Mandy?" Then a blonde came into the kitchen. She wore an oversized pajama top and apparently not much else. The top fell to the tops of her thighs, covering everything important. I didn't recognize her. It certainly wasn't Mom. Whoever it was, the amount of skin she was showing off seemed out of place in this house.Mandy's eyes went wide with surprise. "Monique!" she squealed and lunged for the blonde.Monique, our older sister, looked surprised herself and held out. I came up behind her and pushed my tip into her tight, wet pussy. "Careful at first," she said. "You know it takes a minute to get used to you." I won't hurt you, sweetheart. Push back against me when you are ready to take it all in," I instructed. She was very tight in there.I pushed in my tip and pulled it out again over and over and saw her relaxing. Then, she pushed back against me to take in my full cock. She looked back at me and I saw her eyes roll back in ecstasy. She was ready.I. The plan was that one couple would have the sofa-bed and the other would make a bed up on the floor from duvets and blankets. We had both driven separately from London and when we arrived we saw the lights on and we were pleased to see that Jonathan and Rani had got a real fire going and had made a start on dinner. A lovely evening was had with some hearty food and a couple of bottles of wine while we planned the next days excursion. When it came time for bed there was no-where to get changed.