A SATURDAY MORNING WITH CELINE
It was 7 AM on a sunny Saturday morning. I woke up, showered quickly, and returned to bed. I looked fondly at the woman sleeping on her stomach: her pink night gown was bunched around her waist, revealing her perfectly rounded meaty buttocks. Her blonde hair was sprinkled liberally with gray, befitting a middle-aged grandma. I gave her a long back, thigh, and buttocks massage. The lady turned her head towards me and asked:
“Darling, do you know what today is?”
I said, “Yes. It’s 11 years we have been together.”
Smiling, she said, “I’m glad you remember, lover. I’ve been very happy all these years.”
I said, “Me too.”
I am Alex Moore, a high school history teacher. Grandma Celine, the woman next to me, got up and went to the bathroom. I got up, put on a robe, and went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I placed the bouquet of flowers I bought in a vase on the coffee table in the living room. I was sipping a second cup of coffee while seated in a couch when Celine appeared dressed in a see-through black baby-doll outfit and black high-heel sandals: her hair was fluffy having been dried a few minutes earlier; she had on wire-rimmed glasses, bright red lipstick, dangling pearl ear rings, and a three-strand pearl necklace on her long, wrinkled, neck.
“Thank you for the flowers; they’re lovely.”
Celine knelt in front of me, pulled my cock out, and began to suck it while fondling my cum-filled balls. She played with my genitals for several minutes. Celine then sat in my lap, and French kissed me while pushing her soft, sagging, boobs in to my chest. My cock became stiffer as I felt Celine’s soft buttocks on my cock and her pendulous boobs on my chest. Gently, Celine grasped my precum-covered cock and snaked it in to her jelly-slickened pussy; she sat in my lap until her vaginal walls expanded fully and gripped my cock. After fucking for a few minutes, she got off of my lap, and led me to the cheery kitchen where she put on a white apron, and cooed:
“I’ll make breakfast for you: scrambled eggs and sausage links; you toast the bread.”
Like on many a Saturday morning, Celine initiated our love making; she knew I loved fucking her in the morning. Celine taught me to make love for several minutes with intermittent coupling; she loved to have my aroused, cum-leaking, cock, deep in her old pussy and reach at least one orgasm; I learned to let my cum trickle in to her pussy during our coupling, long before ejaculating a large load of cum.
Soon Celine bent down in front of the stove to select frying pans, turned her head towards me, and smiled. I saw that she had no panties on her upturned ass and her aroused pussy lips were glistening between her plump buttocks. I rushed to Celine, grasped her hips, and snaked my erect cock in to her pussy; I fucked her for couple of minutes while my cum trickled in to her pussy. Celine slid away to pick four eggs from the refrigerator. When she was beating the eggs and scrambling them, I was able to again couple with her, grasp her sagging boobs, and fuck her for several minutes.
After breakfast, I removed her skimpy clothes, made her lie on the kitchen table, sat in a chair, and licked her wide-open pussy until she had an orgasm:
“Ohhhhhh. Cummmming. Ahhhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhh.”
Later, with me standing, I fucked Celine’s well-lubricated pussy while savoring the sight of her jiggling boobs, her wrinkled skin all over her body, and my thick cock going in and out of her pussy hidden in dense, gray, pubic hair. Celine knew that I loved seeing her mature body and face while fucking her tight, juicy, pussy.
CELINE AND JIM
When I was five years old, my dad died in an automobile accident. Celine Dubois Adams came with her husband, Jim Adams, to dad’s memorial service. Jim Adams and his late wife had adopted my orphaned mom in Montreal. I learned Celine was Jim’s new wife; she seemed to be a few years younger than my mom.
Celine consoled me and stayed by my side during the long memorial service, while Jim consoled my older brother. She told me she had a three-year old son, Jacques, from her previous marriage. She took me to a local park, where she let me play on a swing for several minutes. She told me:
“Alex, when I’m sad, I go to a park to swing while humming a song I like.”
Three years after my father died, my mom married a fellow teacher, Julian Lefevre, who was about ten years younger than her. Julian courted my mom ardently until she agreed to marry him. Our family continued to live in a two-floor, four-bedroom, house. I also spent many happy winter and summer holidays at our family cottage with members of Julian’s family.
Julian taught history and coached the junior high school basketball team; he always cared for me. He was born in Canada to parents of French descent; but, he spoke English fluently. With his coaching, I was able to play back up guard on the high school basketball team.
CELINE TAKES REFUGE
During the autumn after I turned 18, I heard that Jim Adams developed a weekend drinking problem and often became abusive by late Saturday afternoons. To help Celine get away for a while, mom invited her to stay at our home as long as she wanted to. Celine stayed in the downstairs bedroom that also served as a computer room. My mom told me that Jim owned a Canadian company that also had operations in Illinois, Michigan, and Ohio; Celine cared for her husband, and was hopeful that after counseling he would get better and be nice to her.
Celine was a beautiful lady: she was about 5′4”, 125 lb; she had dense, wavy, blonde, hair, and a pleasant face with large, gray-blue eyes, and a long neck. Celine inherited the high cheek bones of a Russian grandmother, and the thin and long nose of her French father. Initially, while dealing with her difficult marital situation, she stayed in her room dressed in loose and ill-fitting sweat shirts and pants. After a week or so, she began to jog three times a week in a sweat shirt and running shorts; I noticed she had smooth, well-toned, legs, and thighs.
I did not pay too much attention to a sad woman until a day after Jim came to visit her. I was proof reading a paper I wrote on the computer when Celine walked in followed by Jim. Their minor argument, which began in a restaurant, escalated in to Jim berating her. Fearing that Jim might hit Celine, I got up from my chair and told him to leave the room. For a minute I thought Jim might challenge me, but he left the room glowering at Celine. Mom heard the commotion and talked Jim in to leaving for the hotel with her.
Celine said, “Alex, thank you. I’m very embarrassed you saw us fighting,” and began sobbing. I held Celine in my arms as she sobbed on my shoulder, while pressing her bosom in to my chest. I became aware of the perfume she had on, her long and sexy neck, and her still firm boobs. I tried to lean away from Celine, but she clung to me for several minutes until she stopped sobbing. Still in my arms, Celine lifted her head, looked in to my eyes, and, after planting a quick kiss on my lips, said:
“After you finish your work, can you take me to a park?”
I said, “Sure. I’m done working.”
On the way to the park, Celine confided:
“Julian was like a brother since I was a baby. Actually, he’s a distant cousin. He supported my marriage to Jim, an Englishman; my father was against it. Jim was a loving husband and helped me take care of my son. After his company had two difficult years, he started drinking heavily over weekends, and became verbally abusive.”
Celine had on low-heel shoes and a long-sleeve black dress, so that a long walk in the park was not a good option. I drove to where there was a swing and, after she sat in it, I pushed her by her shoulders to swing back and forth. Celine giggled happily and said:
“You remembered I like swings,” and began to hum to herself.
Standing in front of her, I saw Celine had her head tilted back; on the upswing, her dress ballooned to reveal the top pf her black stockings and black panties.
After we picked up two bottles of water from a café, we went back to my car and sat with the windows open. Celine said:
“It’s nice of a young guy like you to listen to an old woman’s problems.”
I told her, “You’re not old; you’re a good looking woman and a nice person. I’m sorry you are having problems.”
I held Celine’s left hand with her wedding ring on it for couple of minutes and, when she did not pull it from my grasp, I kissed it. After returning home, we found a message that mom and Julian were going to come home late. For dinner, I barbecued hamburgers on Julian’s gas grill and Celine prepared a salad. We shared a bottle of red wine with our dinner. Celine and I were relaxing on the living room sofa when she said softly:
“Be a darling; massage my feet,” and placed them in my lap.
She moaned when I massaged her stocking-covered feet. Later, she turned to rest on her stomach to let me massage the backs of her well-toned leg- and thigh-muscles. Celine moaned in appreciation of my massage. Slowly, I moved my hands to the middle of her thighs and stopped where the stockings ended. After a minute or so, slowly, Celine pulled the hem of her dress up several inches to signal I should move my hands further up; I massaged her upper thighs and the slopes where they met her buttocks.
Seeing her black stockings-covered thighs, garters, and her white, meaty, buttocks gave me a raging hard on that pushed against her right thigh lying in my crotch. Celine lifted her head, turned, and looking in to my eyes cooed:
“Wow! I did that to you! I’m an old woman.”
I blushed and mumbled, “Not old. You’re lovely. Very attractive.”
Celine got up on her knees and quickly French kissed me; I hugged her tightly and kissed her long neck, and then French kissed her for a long time. She moaned with pleasure when I fondled her covered boobs. I wanted to lower her dress to kiss her boobs when the phone rang: it was Julian asking to talk to Celine. After a long conversation on the phone, Celine said:
“Julian thinks I can save my marriage. I hope so. I’m also worried about taking care of my son,” and, after a pause, tenderly touched my face, added:
“You’re a great young man. I’m sure you will meet a nice girl. I’m glad I spent an evening with you.”
LOVING MRS. WALTER
The young women I dated were more ambitious than me and moved on to more motivated young men. Amanda Walter was a brown-eyed beauty I met in one of my American History courses. We went out a few times and each time she encouraged me to eat her hairy pussy to at least to one orgasm in her bedroom. In turn, she jacked me off, but would not let me fuck her.
Well before graduation, Amanda began to distance herself from me: Instead of being invited to her bedroom, I was being asked to wait in the living room where I either watched TV alone or visited with her mom, Mrs. Betty Walter. Early on, Mrs. Walter insisted I call her Betty and have a glass of wine with her. In a few weeks, I found out Betty was a kind and straightforward woman, who had been divorced for almost two years. Betty was about 45 years old, 5′2”, 130 lb. She had blonde-gray hair and brown eyes; she was buxom and had wide hips.
I enjoyed visiting with Betty: she confided to me that Amanda, like her father, pursued aggressively anything she wanted; also, her husband made lot of money and had left her for a business-savvy, younger, woman. She had assumed he was happy in their beautiful home she worked hard to create and maintain. In turn, I confided to her that Amanda dumped me.
With Amanda being away with her boyfriend most of the time, Betty was alone at her home and glad to have me around. I helped her with many chores and, before I went home, we visited over a glass of wine most evenings. After a few weeks, I noticed Betty was taking better care of her appearance. One evening, she looked alluring in a navy blue tank top and black shorts; her hair was done in a knot on top of her head. Betty smiled when she saw me staring at her chest and legs longingly, and asked:
“You like my new hair do?”
I replied, “Yes. You look great.”
She then showed her college and wedding pictures in an album. Indeed, she looked beautiful; I said:
“You must have broken many hearts.”
Betty blushed and kissed me on my cheek; I also saw a few tears in her eyes. I kissed her softly on her lips and held her in my arms for several minutes.
Betty mumbled, “Amanda will be home soon. Can you help me in the garden tomorrow evening?”
I agreed and left. Next day, a Friday, evening was warm. I dressed in a tank top, shorts, and sandals. I went to Betty’s home on my bike. Amanda was not home. Betty was in tight, denim, cut offs, and a low-cut, red, sleeve-less, blouse. As she continued to work in the yard, I admired her smooth arms and thighs, and large hips; she also had bright lipstick and smelled of freshly applied perfume. When she was pulling out a dead bush, she slipped; fortunately, I caught her by her waist and we fell to the ground together. Betty said:
“I think I twisted my ankle,” and grasped her right ankle. I said to Betty:
“Your ankle needs to be cooled down right away. Even with me helping you, I don’t see how you can limp all the way back to the porch.”
Betty asked, “Can you carry me?”
I said, “Sure.”
As I carried her to the porch, her right boob pressed in to my ribs, her top two blouse buttons were open revealing much of her sexy cleavage, and her barren thighs were in my right forearm. The net result was that my cock became rigid as it rubbed against Betty’s hip. After I put Betty down in a reclining chair, I applied crushed ice to her ankle and an elastic bandage. After about an hour, Betty said:
“My ankle feels much better. I need to go to the powder room.”
When I carried her in to the powder room, with a mischievous smile, she said:
“I can unzip my own shorts,” and added:
“Let’s have some wine. Stay with me and watch a movie on TV.”
After Betty freshened up, she put on a red silk robe over her underwear; I helped her recline on the living room sofa and handed her a glass of Cabernet wine. After couple of sips of wine, smiling, she beckoned me to snuggle with her as we watched an R-rated movie. For several minutes, Betty rubbed my muscular upper arms. After she rested her head on my shoulder, I kissed up and down her slightly wrinkled neck. Betty moaned and said:
“It has been a long time since I spent an evening cuddling with a man. This old lady thanks you.”
Next, I planted several soft kisses on her upper arm, left cheek, and then a juicy French kiss which Betty returned with eyes closed. I initiated another French kiss that lasted a long time and again Betty returned it. After we watched intently a romantic scene on the TV, I pushed aside her robe, found the right nipple protruding like a peanut through her red, lacy-bra, and began to suckle it. After a while, Betty whimpered:
“That feels good,” and gently steered my head to her other nipple; I also grasped and fondled her other bra-covered boob.
After Betty slowly maneuvered to sit in my lap, she put her arms around my neck and pulled my head in to her sexy cleavage, and said
“My ankle feels better.”
Eagerly, I pushed my face in to Betty’s ample cleavage and kissed it many times. Later, as I kissed Betty’s cleavage, I reached behind her back, and unhooked her bra; her unconfined, long, sagging, boobs spilled half way to her belly. As she looked eagerly at my face, I lifted each boob, kissed it, and suckled it. After several minutes, Betty cooed:
“You’re driving me crazy. I’m glad you like my sagging boobs.”
At that moment, the phone rang. As Betty talked on the phone, she pulled my head on to her right boob. Later, she said:
“Amanda’s coming home late,” and added:
“We can have left over roast beef or we can order pizza.”
I whispered, “I would rather eat you,” and helped a blushing Betty up the stairs to her bedroom.
Her heavy boobs swayed sexily as she climbed the stairs. In the bedroom, Betty cooed when I grasped her boobs from behind and gently pinched her nipples. As soon as Betty sat in an upholstered chair, I slid to the carpeted floor, opened her legs wide, and pushed my head in to her spread panties-covered crotch. As I kissed her thighs and crotch, I inhaled her sex aromas mixed with her perfume; Betty whimpered and ran her fingers over my bald head. With Betty’s help, I slid her damp panties past her wide hips to her ankles; I saw Betty had light-growth of straight, gray, pubic hair, surrounding her aroused pussy.
Betty opened her legs more and pushed at the back of my balding head to urge me to eat her pussy. Holding on to my head, she cooed and moaned happily as I licked her slickened pussy labia and clit:
“Baby, that’s great. Greaaaaat. Liiick. Ahhhhh. Aaaaaahhh.”
Betty had her orgasm sooner than I expected. After resting for a while, she went to the attached bathroom and returned in a sheer red robe. She helped me remove my shorts and underwear; I grasped her swaying boobs and Betty grasped my throbbing cock. Looking in to my eyes, Betty said:
“Get on the bed. I want to ride you slowly. It has been a while since such a big cock went in to my pussy.”
I said, “Take off the bra; they look sexy just swaying.”
Betty blushed as she took her time to push my leaking cock head deep in her love channel; after she sat on me, she sighed with a mixture of relief and satisfaction. Her pussy fit snugly around my cock that was continuously releasing streams of my semen-filled cum. I let my cock remain still as I fondled her sagging breasts with large nipples and kissed her wrinkled neck. While remaining coupled, I helped Betty roll on to her back and felt my cock deep in the grasp of Betty’s love channel. Soon, my climax began in my groin and it rolled through my spasming cock as gobs of cum spilled on to her womb.
“Ahhhhhh. Fuckkkkkk. Ohhhhhhhh.”
I rested on my hands and knees with my chest on Betty’s flattened boobs. My cock remained erect and I began to fuck Betty’s cum saturated pussy with abandon. When I heard someone downstairs, I paused and had my cock buried deep in Betty’s pussy; Betty whispered:
“We should stop. It’s Amanda. I don’t want her to know you’re here. Go in to the bathroom. There’s a robe in the closet; put it on and wait,” and nudged me off of her.
Betty wiped off my over flowing cum off of her crotch, sprayed her perfume on her crotch, put on a robe, and left to meet Amanda.
I waited in Betty’s dimly-lit, large, bathroom: In a closet, behind a stack of towels, I found a man’s robe, a variety of dildos, and skimpy lingerie. I barely heard Amanda and Betty talking and giggling. After about 30 minutes, Betty came in to the bathroom, slid to the floor in front of me, grasped my softened cock in her small, wrinkled, hand, and cooed:
“Amanda’s gone. She wants me to take her shopping tomorrow,” and, staring at my cock, added:
“This guy needs help,” and began to suck my cock.
I watched in awe as Betty sucked and slurped on my cock; I was turned on watching her wrinkled, lipstick-coated, lips around my growing tool. Licking her lips, Betty stood up and turned towards the bedroom. She squealed in surprise when I grasped her by her waist from behind, lifted her robe, and began to hump her from behind.
Giggling, Betty asked, “What are you doing? It’s lodged in my buttocks.”
I whispered, “Let’s do it doggy-style.”
As soon as Betty bent forward on the vanity, I guided my hard cock in to her still slick-pussy and began to fuck it in long strokes. As Betty watched my passion-crazed face in the mirror, I saw her sagging boobs jiggling in unison with my powerful trusts. I ran my hands on Betty’s narrow waist and her wide hips. As I felt my climax beginning, I grasped Betty’s boobs, and thrust my cock back and forth rapidly until it spewed gobs of my cum inside Betty’s pussy:
“JJ…Mr. Smith, sweetie…please fuck me,” I whined, pulling off, looking up at him, and snapping a picture of my face with strings of saliva looping to his throbbing cock.
“Ungh…Gaawd…yeeaah…honey,” he grunted, kicking away his loafers and peeling off his socks before dropping to his knees between my spread legs.
We didn’t have to prepare. My pussy was open to him like a moist flower in front of his pulsing cock head, and my legs were splayed at right angles to my torso. I started to reach for him but didn’t need to as, with one slow, practiced plunge, he filled me to my cervix.
“Yeeeaaahhh, JJ!” I cried, and threw one arm around his neck to draw him to me, snapping both cameras with the releases in my other hand. I tried to keep my wits about me, and click them at opportune times, but lost myself in our passion, revisiting in my imagination those earlier days when we’d rutted like animals. After several minutes of mewling and moaning, I gasped in his ear, “The cameras, darlin’…the cameras,” coaching him as he’d done with me earlier. JJ grunted, moved his legs, and leaned back so that both cameras and the videocam could record our full bodies and the excited meshing of our organs.
I lifted my legs high and relaxed totally inside so that he could slip past my cervix, but was content just to feel his spastic drilling into me in his quest for an orgasm. I knew it would be good for both of us, but wanted it to be truly superb for him. So, as I ground up against him I began whispering sporadically, “Cum in my mouth, honey…wanna taste your cum. Please cum in my hot mouth…in my hot mouth…wanna drink your cum…in…my…mouth,” at which he groaned continually as he watched us to the side on TV.
Then I came, howling as my fingers closed on the camera cable buttons, their flashes matching those behind my eyelids, as I had the best climax I’d had in months. When I ceased thrashing, JJ froze, pulled out of me, and looped an arc of cum up at my head, with the video camera catching it in mid-flight, which landed on my face. I quickly leaned forward and gulped down two mouths full of his steaming semen – clicking as I did so – then grabbed his cock, as he growled in completion, to play its spewing contents over my face, down my neck and all over my breasts.
JJ collapsed on me, limp, and I took one more picture from the lower camera of our panting, cum-laced bodies. The batteries in both cameras were now almost dead, but the video was still running, and I’d finished my first photo essay. “And that’s the story of Mr. Smith and Miz Jones,” I whispered, to his sated grin. I said a quick, silent prayer to Lee as I wiped off my face, hoping that she’d witnessed us and approved of the way that I’d cared for her husband.
When we’d settled down, JJ reviewed the pictures and said, “Gawd, I love to watch you fuck, Ginny…whether it’s in person, on TV “or” in pictures. Wish we’d had another couple with us! With me such a voyeur and you such an exhibitionist – I mean, if lecherous old Smith and slutty little Miz Jones act this way at home – how do you suppose we’ll be when we get to the South Pacific?”
I ignored the question, not even considering what the future might hold. I was very pleased, though, that we’d finally enjoyed ourselves privately…without any other people. And, I was also happy that he’d popped a tab of Viagra. We’d have to be careful that he used it only moderately on vacation.
*Part 2 *
Our vacation started two weeks after JJ and I had revived our dormant sexual relationship, with the help of taking dirty pictures of ourselves fucking, as well as Viagra. Our outlooks on life generally had improved as well, three months after my loving mother-in-law and JJ’s wife, Lee, had died. It was as if we’d been liberated from the past, and were experiencing a new beginning.
We flew to Honolulu, spending two glorious days and nights of shopping and fun before catching a flight to the island of Saipan in the Western Pacific. We traveled lightly, with just two nice evening outfits and casual wear, since we planned to buy clothing in the islands. Our photo and video equipment, though, filled several sturdy cases. I hadn’t read a guidebook on Micronesia – I’d only found it on a map – so JJ filled me in on details about Pohnpei as we took a small, two-engine prop plane from Saipan to Kolonia, the island’s main town. The co-pilot and crew chief, Tony, a cute Mediterranean-looking guy about my age, spent some time with us and provided stories of local color. I’ll bet these pilots lead exciting lives, I thought, as I checked him out, dressed as he was in navy blue shorts and a short-sleeved, white pilot’s shirt with insignia. Our three-year-old daughter, Andi – born from my incestuous coupling with JJ – had been a dream child during the entire trip, unlike other kids on the flights whose parents found discipline hard to impose, and was now being bounced on Tony’s knee as he talked to me. Of course, JJ and I had been proper parents and had abstained from sex, since Andi had been with us constantly since San Francisco. My body reminded me of that abstinence with a few horny pulses as I looked over at Tony’s glowing smile and healthy, tanned body.
“Pohnpei has been occupied by Spain, Germany, Japan and the USA for over 400 years,” he informed me. “The gene pool, blended with all those strains, has produced some indescribably beautiful people, as you’ll see.”
“Besides building canoes and boats, what do they do?” I asked.
“You ought to visit the two cultural centers to get educated. But, there’s a lot of traditional dancing, singing, handicrafts, weaving, fishing, drinking and eating,” he said.
“They’re also among the most physically sensuous people on earth,” JJ chimed in.
I hoped that I wasn’t going to have to act as JJ’s chaperone while we were there, but I put the thought out of my mind. “Is it like Saipan? That place was depressing…barren and rocky,” I asked.
“No, it’s like Paradise,” said JJ. “We’ll be staying in the Chief’s village, 45 minutes outside Kolonia. It’s been kept very traditional, but everything runs by electricity, and they’ve got all the modern amenities. Otherwise it’s got mostly thatched roof bungalows, garden showers, fantastic views…you’ll love it.”
“What about Andi?”
“She’ll have about fifty baby sitters,” he said, smiling. “It’s a matriarchal society, with kids raised communally in their own compound. The men and women stay apart during the workday, but get together at night to eat and party. It’s a hierarchal social order, with canoe builders at the top tier. In the Chief’s village, the last queen – a white American woman – died many years ago. She’d been there since World War II, so when he dies I assume they’ll select another queen.”
“Is there…marriage?…as we know it?” I asked.
“In a loose kind of way,” he responded. I got the uneasy feeling that he wasn’t telling me everything. “The Chief has several wives.”
Great, I shuddered to myself…a man’s dream. How was I going to keep old JJ from “going native,” with Andi and me being treated as loose change?
The small puddle-jumper in which we were flying did a sudden banked turn and I looked out the nearest window. Below us was a green, almost circular, island dominated by a single, verdant mountain, with a river running down its slopes and a small town accompanied by an airstrip at its base on the shore of a lagoon. “Is that it?” I asked. “It’s so small!”
“It’s thirteen miles wide, Ginny, and 2900 feet high, with everything you’ll need for the next couple of weeks or so!” said JJ, excitedly.
We bid Tony goodbye, told him we’d see him in a couple of weeks, and, as the plane’s door swung open, I was hit by a sweet and sour stench and a blast of humid heat that I’d never before experienced. “What’s that smell?” I asked JJ.
“The jungle, babe, mixed with the salty trade winds…the smell of Paradise!”
Thank God I’d dressed appropriately, given the heat…just shorts and a halter top. As we descended from the plane, a shiny red, crew cab pickup was racing toward us, its sides custom-painted with pictures of exotic, brown-skinned women rising from the sea. On each door was an over-large painting of an older, Polynesian-looking man, perhaps in his sixties. It looked as though someone on the island was a superb portrait painter. In the back of the truck there was a motorcycle.
“Here’s the royal chariot! That’s the Chief’s face on the doors,” said JJ, as the vehicle skidded to a stop next to the plane.
A handsome young man, over six feet tall with dyed blond hair, naked to his brown waist and covered only with a flowered wrap from low on his hips to his knees, called out, “You’re Jay?”
“That’s me!” said JJ.
“I’m Sam, the Chief’s driver,” he said, shaking JJ’s hand and grinning broadly down at me. His eyes quickly scanned my body in an appreciative way. “Your stuff?” he asked, pointing to our bags and equipment cases.
“That’s it,” said JJ. At that the boy, perhaps twenty years old, began loading our baggage. I was amazed at the way he effortlessly lifted the heavy equipment cases, showing rippling brown back and shoulder muscles on his vee-shaped torso as he loaded the pickup’s cargo bed. When he’d finished, he opened the truck’s rear passenger door and bowed dramatically for Andi and me to enter. I scooped my daughter up and sat her on the back seat, then stepped on the running board. The flip-flop on my foot slipped and I almost fell to the tarmac, but Sam caught me around the waist with his strong hands and lifted me up onto the seat. I immediately noticed that his hands lingered on my tummy, then slipped slowly away, as I reached for the seat belt.
“Thank you,” I muttered, impressed with his manners but uneasy with his caressing touch on my flesh, as JJ got into the front passenger seat. Sam’s dyed blond hair and light eyes made him look very unusual, but what did I know of people from the Pacific islands? Such rich, dark, unblemished skin, I thought. Must be a blend of the island’s German genes.
After customs and document stamping, on the way back Sam kept up a running conversation with JJ. “Where’re ya from?” he asked.
“Near San Francisco,” replied JJ.
“Yeah? Know anybody in L.A.? Reason I ask is, I wanna go there ‘n’ try to get into movies!”
“Tough to break into,” said JJ. “You from Pohnpei?”
“Yup, born in the college clinic in Kolonia. My mom was a hippie chick who came here in the eighties, fell in love with the place, and got knocked up! Oops, sorry,” he said, looking back at me. “Never knew who my father was. She stayed ’til I was 18 – I’m a half-breed – then moved back to Hawaii. Too primitive for her here.”
“What do you do?” asked JJ.
“Go to the college, majoring in art…and girls, mostly,” he beamed, laughing loudly as JJ smiled at the remark. “I painted the Chief’s truck!” he said proudly. “Do artwork for the tourists, work in the video rental store part time, and run errands for the Chief, ‘cuz he can’t drive. When I’m not drivin’ I’m ridin’ my motorcycle…the one in back.”
“You’re an entrepreneur,” said JJ.
“That’s me!” Sam replied, as we sped away from the airport, down a two lane road into the dense jungle.
It was mid-afternoon when we arrived at the village – a stroll away from a beautiful nearby beach – after a harrowing ride. I thanked God under my breath that we’d made it alive, given Sam’s crazy driving. The whole village, a couple of hundred people it seemed, had turned out to welcome us, all arrayed behind the beefy Chief, who stood at the central apex of the throng. Sam unloaded the truck, winked and gave me a flirty “thumbs-up,” and left us in the center of the village.
The Chief had raised his large arms when JJ had gotten out of the truck, and they’d embraced in a gesture of true, though comical, affection, since the Chief was many inches the shorter of the two…about my height of 5′4″. They said a few words that I didn’t hear and JJ gestured for me to come forward. I pulled Andi by the hand toward them and the entire crowd of people reacted with a low, murmuring moan. I self-consciously flipped my long hair back over one shoulder – I’d let it grow so it was now down past the middle of my back – and again the people gasped. They must not see many strawberry blondes down here, I told myself, feeling their curious eyes.
The Chief watched me approach with an unblinking stare, his hands on his hips, and I did a small curtsey before him, still holding Andi’s hand. “This is Ginny…and her daughter, Andi,” said JJ.
The Chief approached me with open arms and I expected a bone-crushing hug such as the one he’d given JJ. But, instead, he clasped both of my hands in his rough palms – extremely gently – and said, “Audra.”
“It’s Ginny, Chief,” said JJ, which was ignored.
“You…Audra,” he said, looking deeply into my eyes. Then he turned to the crowd of villagers and said loudly, “Audra!” and pointed back to me.
The entire assemblage of dark-skinned men, women and children sighed a breathy, collective, “Audra,” and swept around us as if they were currents eddying around a rock on the seashore, touching, stroking my hair, arms, even between my legs…any part of my pale white skin that was bare. I didn’t notice anyone of mixed blood here, and had never felt so overwhelmed, even when I’d been applauded by an audience of hundreds, years before in the Ice Capades. For some reason these native people liked me…a lot. Was it because Andi’s so cute? I wondered. She was now hoisted on the shoulders of a young teenage girl, giggling, or perhaps they revered JJ’s architectural genius. I just didn’t know. In any case, I was tired, needed a shower, and both Andi and I needed a nap. I told as much to JJ, who muttered a few words to the Chief.
We were housed in a small two-room bungalow, made of thatch on a mahogany frame. There was a garden shower and toilet out back, enclosed on three sides for privacy. All the furniture was raffia or bamboo. The beds were huge pallets covered with raffia mats, on which Andi and I napped for a couple of hours while JJ relaxed with the Chief. After a shower I put on new clothing I’d bought, an aqua, clasp-backed bra top with spaghetti straps, with a flowered, sarong type skirt that opened quite high in the front. JJ had advised well when we’d shopped in Honolulu, since the costume seemed to blend right in with those worn locally. Being a toddler, Andi didn’t need a top, so was free to run about in a pair of shorts like the rest of the little kids. On our feet were typical flip-flop sandals.
I was curious about JJ, so decided we should look for him. Sweeping aside the mat that covered the front door opening, I almost ran into a boy of perhaps twenty – or young man, since age seemed so difficult to tell with our hosts – who was standing outside. I said, “Oh, excuse me,” and walked around him.
He was maybe 5′10″ tall, well muscled, very brown, with a shock of straight, well-trimmed black hair. One could almost swim in his deep brown eyes. He backed away and bowed slightly, seeming almost to blush when I spoke to him, as he averted his eyes shyly from mine. Slung low on his hips was a black wrap that showed a yummy taut abdomen, the skirt-like material extending to his knees but scooped up in front, as with all the villagers. He was strikingly handsome, with a finely cut facial structure and narrow nose, and I must admit to a quickening of my pulse as I glanced over his chiseled build. Then he smiled and…I felt light-headed at the gorgeous white-toothed grin that split his features. “I am Leiuanu,” he said, “son of Chief.”
“Ginny,” I said, stiffly holding out my hand for him to shake. He looked like a dark, Asian/ Spaniard mix.
“Audra,” he said, bowing again and grasping my small hand softly in his much larger ones. “I guard you.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said, distractedly, and walked toward where JJ and the Chief were relaxing in hammocks a hundred feet away on a lanai in front of the Chief’s bungalow, tended by a handful of beautiful island girls in skimpy traditional dress. I glanced over my shoulder at the boy I’d just met as we walked, and his eyes were all over me. He bowed again slightly. On our way, six little girls between the ages of about ten and fourteen came up, grabbed Andi by the hand, and ran away, all of them giggling her name. It would take a while for me to accept so many baby sitters, but my daughter wasn’t at all shy.
As I approached the Chief’s lanai, a beautiful teenage girl brought a bamboo raffia chair on which I sat, as JJ and the Chief complimented me on my costume. The girl was stunningly gorgeous, with straight black hair to her waist – perhaps sixteen I thought – her willowy curves covered by a single, orange and white flowered sarong, clinging to prominent breasts and scooped up high in front like mine. She brought me a mahogany cup filled with something.
“It’s “sakau”, Ginny, the traditional Pohnpeian drink made from “kava”. It’s pretty strong, so be careful.” His words were slurred and eyes slightly glazed, testaments to what he’d just said. I took a small sip, which warmed my insides immediately. It tasted…”green”…and peppery, not at all like other liquors I’d had. I flashed back to when I’d had drunk “absinthe”, which had driven me sexually crazy during an orgy in California a year or so before, and vowed to heed his words.
The chief was expansive. “Audra!” he said with laughter, “you teach me Mer’kuh!”
English was obviously his second language, so I didn’t know what he meant immediately, but surmised that it had something to do with the States. Anxious to be agreeable, I nodded and gushed, “I’d be happy to, Chief!”
He looked at JJ and laughed broadly, “Happy! She happy!” and dissolved into tipsy giggles.
Then, he looked at the seashore and saw something he didn’t like. Grunting, he got up, excused himself by putting his hand on JJ’s shoulder, and paced with authority to where some young men, including his son, Leiuanu, my “guard,” were working on a canoe. He upbraided them for about five minutes about something.
In his absence I asked, “Who’s Audra, JJ? Everyone calls me Audra.”
“Lieutenant Junior Grade Audra Jones, U.S. Navy flight nurse,” he replied. “Sole survivor of a plane crash here in 1943, when the Japanese controlled Micronesia. The Pohnpeians patched her up and hid her in a cave on the mountain ’til the end of the war. She stayed after that and became their queen. Never had children of her own. The Chief – who’s over 60 – is one of her adopted younger ‘cousins’.”
Miz Jones? What a coincidence, I thought, wryly, having the same last name as the one I’d chosen when JJ and I had photographed ourselves fucking a couple of weeks previously. “But why do they think of me as ‘Audra’?” I asked.
“Because you’re the spitting image of her, you little devil. And you told me you were half Greek,” he said, teasingly. “When the Chief gets back, he’ll show you some pictures.”
I spent the next few minutes snapping shots with the digital camera I’d brought with me, and took one of the Chief as he was returning. When he reached us he invited us inside and led us to a shrine-like display on one wall. In the center of the display there was an excellent, large, painted portrait of a white woman in her early twenties, with full, naked breasts and a petite build, with strawberry blonde hair and dark brown eyes.
“Audra,” said the Chief, reverently, gesturing to the pictures, and put his palms together, bowing slightly.
I was stunned. The face looking back at me from the portrait was a mirror image of my current self, right down to the dozen pin-sized freckles scattered across the bridge of my nose. “Ooohhh, JJ,” I gasped, grabbing his forearm. The Chief then pointed out many framed, black and white snapshots, all yellowed with age. They showed the young woman in various garbs, a few in regulation khaki with her silver bar of rank, coupled with shorts, and several others with her in native dress, accompanied by Pohnpeians of the time. There were also pictures of her as she aged, the final one showing her gray-haired and in her sixties.
“She was lovely, just like you, honey,” JJ whispered.
We could have been twin sisters, I thought. My body was more developed, particularly my hips and legs since I’d skated professionally, yet the similarity was extraordinary. I started to say something to JJ, but the Chief suddenly embraced me from behind, gently running his hands all over my upper torso and breasts, down my bare midriff, over my hips, forward to my crotch, then to my muscular thighs. His touch was among the most tender I’d ever felt from anyone – male or female – and my breath caught in my throat. “Audra,” he whispered into my ear, as his palms stroked my high butt and thighs…”Audra.”
I was dumbstruck. “JJ, what should I do?” I whimpered, my knees beginning to shake as goose bumps broke out all over my skin.
“Turn slowly, smile, and place one finger on his lips. It’s a gesture of affection,” said JJ.
I did so, and the Chief released me, beaming, then escorted us outside, where I grabbed my cup of peppery “sakau” and took a couple of gulps, which numbed me almost immediately…and cooled off the nervous fluttering in my lower belly. We sat for a while, with JJ doing most of the talking, until the Chief announced that there would be a feast in our honor that night. Before that, though, he wanted us to see a canoe that his son and the boat builders had nearly finished.
We strolled toward the beach and, under a thatched roof sat a single, hollowed out breadfruit tree shaped like a sleek boat, with one outrigger. The 20 foot hull’s finish was silky smooth, all done with hand tools and sharp seashells, JJ told me, with the outrigger’s members lashed together with coconut husk fibers. The Chief’s son, Leiuanu, and his work mates quickly shied and backed away reverently so that we could inspect their work. As I rubbed the smooth, unblemished side of the hull wonderingly, I looked up at the handsome young man and he immediately dropped his eyes, either out of bashfulness or respect, I didn’t know which. Regardless, I “enjoyed” his reaction and thought – no, “felt” – a profound gentleness, which I wanted to experience further. I snapped a picture of him with the canoe, which caused some teasing from his fellow boat builders.
“How long have they been building these?” I asked JJ.
“Oh, maybe 4,000 years,” he said, off-handedly. “These people were the world’s first great ocean navigators, when all Europeans did with water was get sick from it.”
By the time the feast began it was dark, and a huge fire had been built, where animal carcasses were being roasted. Women were segregated from men but, out of deference to us as guests, Andi was allowed to stay with me. She quickly lost interest, though, having made many little girl friends during the afternoon, and was soon running around with them. There was one rather mature girl, about 14, whose word was law with the children, so my worried parental feelings were soon lessened. “Sakau” could have had something to do with it, since I now felt relaxed and carefree…almost childishly happy…for the first time since Lee had died.
JJ and the Chief sat in reclining basket chairs across the fire from me. They were attended by the gorgeous 16-year-old in orange and three other girls who looked slightly older, all of whom could have been poster models for South Sea island tours. I was accompanied on my side of the fire by many women – several of them pregnant – aged 16 to 60. One girl, Muana, who attended the community college, had been assigned to me as my guide, apparently, and was seeing to my every need.
As I picked at a brimming platter of delicious food brought from somewhere, stacked with meat, vegetables and a breadfruit and yam concoction like mashed potatoes, I asked her about the scrumptious meat. “It is dog,” she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And I guess it “was” natural…to her. Knowing what I was eating, however, gave me an immediate visceral reaction and I almost gagged. I “had” noticed a lack of canine pets in the village. After another sip of “sakau”, though, my initial revulsion faded. That, and the fact that – in “my” reclining basket chair – I was being groomed by a slight, teenage girl. She was brushing my hair, stopping only to stroke my body, above my bra-top and all over my shoulders and arms, with what I now considered “the Pohnpeian touch.” As her smooth fingers fluttered over me, I suddenly realized what JJ had meant when he said these were among “the most physically sensuous people on earth.”
That’s when the dancing began. I’d been sipping “sakau”" “for hours, which had a narcotic effect on me, my hair glistened in the firelight from several hundred brush strokes, my body was relaxed beyond measure, and I was ready for entertainment. Drums sounded and single-stringed instruments twanged, and two lines of dancers emerged from the darkness to face one another on each side of the fire, young men in one, young women in the other.
“These are eligible, but unbetrothed, mates,” Muana said to me. I noticed that Leiuanu, the Chief’s son, was at the center of the male line. He was, to me, the most appealing of all the attractive young men in the assemblage.
There wasn’t much art to the dancing. For minutes, the men shuffled slightly to one side, then the other, while bringing their fisted hands and arms up across their chests. In contrast, the women – girls, really – shook their hips in a jerky fashion and moved their fisted arms forward and backward at about shoulder height. It was an obvious physical reference to the sex act, but there wasn’t a hint of the gentleness that I’d experienced for the past few hours. As the young people danced, I noticed that Leiuanu was looking at me every chance he got, as were several of his male companions. I smiled at each to acknowledge what were obvious solicitations of my approval.
At the climax of the dance, the men began to chant roughly, which sounded like grunts. As they did this they thrust their hips forward in rapid-fire succession which, to me, appeared to be an orgiastic fucking motion. “They are now up the mountain…and into the cave,” muttered Muana next to me, as I noticed each man had at least a partial erection swelling the front of his flowered groin wrap. As the men thrust, the women responded by shaking their hips tremblingly and began wailing an eerie sound that could only mean climactic sexual joy. Both grunting and wailing sounds reached a crescendo and stopped, as the two lines of dancers finally dropped to the ground, then rose quickly and ran off into the shadows. I imagined vividly what was at that moment going on under the sheltering fronds of the breadfruit and palm trees surrounding the village…and I felt hot…sticky between my legs.
But I felt that only for a moment. Surprise, then shock, then anger, hit me as I looked across the fire, since three girls had converged on JJ. The giddy smile on his face showed that he’d obviously let himself be taken by them. Two girls had their hands under his unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt and were stroking him all over his chest and shoulders. Another fantastically beautiful older girl had straddled him on his basket chair, was holding onto his shins, and doing what at first looked like a lap dance. Next to him, the Chief was watching approvingly, but exhorting the girl to show more enthusiasm…or inventiveness. I noticed then that it wasn’t a dance at all. JJ hadn’t worn underwear beneath his traditional wrap, and I glimpsed his shiny cock disappearing into the shadowy furrow between the girl’s legs. The ecstatic look on her closed-eyed face and the sound of her soft, high yelps meant only one thing. As had happened so often back in the States, a new little trollop had seduced my man, and he was enjoying it…but without me!
I rose to my feet, staggering because I was drunk, which nearly pitched me into the fire, as I shook off Muana’s restraining hand. Marching around the flames to JJ’s chair, I spat, “JJ! Stop that immediately!”
The girl who was fucking him grew round-eyed, pulled off of him and ran away, frightened. The other two shrank back, afraid of my jealous wrath. JJ looked up at me and said, “Don’t do this, Ginny!” which was lost on me since I’d already spun on my heel and stalked toward our bungalow.
I heard the Chief say to JJ, “She no Audra,” then he shouted to me, angrily, “You no Audra!”
I cried to myself in misery for the next few hours, asking myself why I’d come here, wondering where my baby was, and feeling ashamed at the drunken reaction I’d displayed in front of so many kindly, innocent witnesses from another culture. I said a quiet prayer to Lee, apologizing for screwing things up. I feared, also, that JJ would have a lecture for me when I awoke.
*Part 3 *
“You offended the Chief, Ginny,” said JJ, as I rubbed sleep from my eyes the next morning. “You’ll have to make amends.”
“Why? That little girl was fucking you!”
“She’s not “little”. She happens to be 18,” he corrected. “Think of all of them as 18. Those girls were gifts to me from the Chief. The one who was “entertaining” me wants to become an architect. It was an honor for her to be with the man who designed the buildings where she goes to college.”
“”Be” with you? Is that what she calls it? Why not “be” with me? C’mon, right here…now…fuck me!” I realized that I sounded like a harridan, but I was so pissed off…as well as horny. We hadn’t made love since before we’d left California.
“Relax, kiddo. We’ll have sex. I brought my Viagra! But remember, this is a different culture. You’ve got to be more understanding! Because of your outburst, we won’t see the Chief this morning. To settle ruffled feelings, you and I’ll go to Liduduhniap waterfalls and have a picnic…maybe do some hiking. But when we get back this afternoon I want you to – you must – apologize to him. And later tonight…he wants to “be” with you.”
“Well, isn’t that convenient,” I said, sarcastically. “The price of breaking off your piece of ass last night is me fucking that horny old savage!”
“I’m horny too…in my mind! And old, too, Gin,” said JJ, almost apologetically. “Besides, he’s invited me to be with you two, which is customary. You’re a gift.”
“Great! My old man gives me to another guy…and gets to watch!” I gasped, disbelieving what he’d said. Ambivalently, I’d thought this vacation might get us away from our lurid group sex trysts! Besides, didn’t I have a say in this?
“It’s not that we haven’t done this before, hon…watched each other I mean.” His face softened and he looked away slightly. “Anyway, you know it really turns me on to watch you fuck somebody else.”
“Jeezus,” I exclaimed. “Can’t you forget that damned swingers’ club?” Would I ever have a nice, conventional relationship with this man? I knew I wouldn’t, of course, nor did I deserve one…or even truly “want” one. Had that been my goal, I realized, I could’ve stayed married and remained a frustrated religious zealot. Instead, being a slut with JJ watching wasn’t new to me. I was every bit as lewd as he was. So, accepting the inevitable, I conceded, “Well, if I have to do it, to preserve the Chief’s fragile ego…and to turn you on, of course I will! But he doesn’t appeal to me at all! And, I’m gonna have a lotta drinks before I become his ceremonial whore!”
“Think of it as doing something for the village, Gin, for his people. His authority was openly challenged last night,” said JJ.
“Yeah, well, you’ll owe me big time for this, JJ,” I warned, threateningly. Never in the entire time that I’d known him had I spoken this harshly to the man I loved so deeply. “You better take a Viagra tonight, too, ‘cuz I’m gonna need some of you after I screw that old fuck!”
After I cooled off I saw Andi briefly, she hugged me, then went running after her little playmates, under the tutelage of their primary teenage mentor. An enterprising nanny from here could make a mint back in the States, I thought, maternally, as I saw the young girl shepherd along 20 kids at a time.
My anger with JJ had faded as we drove the Chief’s truck to the falls, fed by the Nanpil River coursing down the mountainside. We hiked into the jungle from a large natural pool at the base of the falls and I became fascinated with all the species of plants and wildlife. We ate a lunch we’d packed, leftovers from the feast the night before, and I purged myself of a lot of frustration.
“I feel that I’m losing you, JJ,” I said. “This vacation is only making it worse, since we’re seldom alone. I need your…your love so much…more than ever before. And when I see someone else getting it, I go crazy.” I wished that I had the guts to admit I was not only horny but, ambivalently,
– due to our swinging activity of the past year – kinky sex had also become an obsession.
“I’m getting old, kiddo. It’s only a matter of time before all I do is drool over dirty pictures of you. Hell, I do that now!” he said. “You need to look ahead…get some young buck who can satisfy you. Remember, I told you this would probably happen when we first met, years ago.”
“You just need some kinks, JJ?” I responded. “You know I’ll do almost anything for you.”
“Yeah, I know…”. Then, letting the subject drop, he said, “Let’s get back to the village and apologize to the Chief for last night’s gaff.”
Back at the village I again saw Andi briefly, but she was with her new friends, and quickly ran off with them. Then JJ and I trudged over to the Chief’s bungalow, with the eyes of the entire village on us. JJ announced us at the entrance, and we were shown in by yesterday’s beautiful teenage attendant, who today was wearing a dark green and white flowered sarong. The Chief was sitting in the darkened hut in front of Audra’s wall of pictures, and motioned for us to sit in two chairs in front of him. We sat and he looked at me from under a furrowed brow, his black eyes glaring.
“I want…to apologize…for last night, Chief,” I said, haltingly.
He looked at me impassively, not understanding.
“I am sorry,” I said, and his features softened.
JJ reached over and squeezed my hand. I looked at the floor and then back up at the Chief, saying, “I’d be happy to make it right for you,” and got up to place a finger on his lips.
He then grinned and said, “You be “happy”?” He pronounced it “hop-py.”
I nodded, smiling with genuine relief, and he jumped to his feet, grabbing my hands gently and looking into my eyes. “You be…happy?” he repeated.
I nodded again, saying, “Yes.”
He clapped his hands, drew back the mat covering the front opening to the room and shouted to the entire village, “Audra be “happy” wi’ me!”
I heard cheers of acclaim from outside, and everyone seemed relieved, including JJ.
“We feast!” he exclaimed.
Hmm, any excuse for a party, I thought. Good…I’ll need a lotta drinks – as I’d told JJ in the morning – which I began consuming early, after which we had a delicious meal. It was a different sort of party – less formal than the night before – but every bit as festive. Torches had been placed outside the entrance to our bungalow, which signified to me that our rooms probably would be the site of my sexual penance.
At some point the Chief rose, slapped his upper arms with both hands, and everyone rose with him. Muana, again, was with me, helping me to my feet, since I’d finished several cups of “sakau” and was feeling no pain. JJ and two of the three girls who’d been involved with him the night before – I hadn’t seen the one who’d been fucking him – plus the Chief’s gorgeous attendant, came along and we entered our bungalow. The mat covering the entrance was left open, and Leiuanu stood outside, performing his duty as my guard. The young man had avoided looking me in the eye the entire evening, and I felt that a bond of understanding had been formed with him as this customary rite was being played out. After all, any of the villagers would be able to see inside our bungalow at the Chief exercising his authority with the woman of his white friend. Therefore, a “guard” outside – his son – seemed superfluous…certainly only ceremonial…almost perverse.
When we walked in, somehow it didn’t surprise me that JJ had set up a videocam and several other digital cameras on tripods around the room. He’d obviously leapt at the opportunity to record the session. On the surface, he was taking our “photo essay” mission very seriously. Yet I was beginning to gauge his prurient motives.
Two basket chairs had been set up at ninety degrees from one another on two sides of the large pallet that was to be our ceremonial, mat covered bed…one for the Chief, the other for JJ. The Chief sat in the one at the end of the bed. JJ stalked about, snapping pictures as the rite quickly unfolded.
The three girls, excluding Muana, surrounded me and began murmuring, stroking and kissing me lightly, all over my upper body. My bra top was gone in a flash, which invited two young female mouths to my nipples – licking and sucking – causing me to cradle the backs of the girls’ heads with my hands, inviting them to taste me more fervently…to suck harder. The other girl quickly unfolded my wraparound skirt and it dropped to the floor, causing the Chief to smile broadly as my sparsely trimmed blonde pussy came into view. It was then that the girls gradually lowered me to the bed, laying me on my back at its center.
I don’t know how long my eyes had been closed, nor how long I’d been moaning. However long, when I glanced at the girls pleasuring me all I saw were three small, beautiful, brown teenage bodies whose mouths and hands were covering me with little nips, hummingbird-like licks and caressing strokes. My body was growing warmer…and warmer…and I knew that I’d be afire before the evening was over.
Soon they changed position. One concentrated on my mouth, kissing me deeply, her tongue lapping throughout my groaning mouth. The two others squeezed my breasts and licked my nipples. The one kissing me then trailed a long lick down from my sternum, concentrating for a while on my navel, then plied my cuntal furrow until the tip of her tongue touched my clit. I quickly lowered my head and saw that it was the Chief’s attendant, perhaps the most fetching girl in the village, licking my slit like an experienced lesbian and twisting her face sideways periodically so that the Chief could see her eating me.
“Oooohhhh…Gaawwwwdd,” I groaned, oblivious to anything but the easy, languorous pulses of pleasure that were overtaking me. This was not what I was used to. This was not love, American style. This was genius, borne of thousands of years of joyous, dedicated learning and sublime habit in an insular culture. I hardly noticed the Chief, who was now spreading wide my legs by the ankles to see the depths of my swollen red vagina, which must have been a signal to him, because he grunted.
I looked up in my delirium and saw Muana kneel before him, slip off his wrap, palm his genitals, and envelop his uncircumcised cock with her mouth. He exhaled audibly as she drew the long, purplish tube of flesh into her throat, stopping only at his kinky pubic hair. I was dimly aware of JJ snapping pictures and videotaping the entire proceeding.
I don’t really remember when I started cumming, because it began so gradually and took so long. I “do” remember one of the girls holding my hands above my head and me mewling orgasmically for maybe ten minutes as my cunt was devoured by the Chief’s young attendant, while the other girls paid homage to the rest of my body. At the end of my protracted orgasm I was soooo mellow, and lay relaxed with my legs still open, now ready for almost anything.
I looked up at the Chief, who now sported a proud erection, slick with Muana’s saliva. He pulled back the wrinkled dark brown foreskin to reveal his mahogany-colored cock head, palpitating beyond his dark fingers, and squeezed out a dollop of pre-cum. It looked as if he were milking the juice out of…out of a large, purple pepper! Grunting something to his teenage attendant, she lay on her back with her head toward him while the other girls turned me over and straddled my knees over her face. In seconds I was open to him in the canine position, with the lovely girl lapping away at my clit, and felt him begin to stir his fat probe into my soaking snatch. The other girls – both of whom I’d disturbed the night before when they were entertaining JJ – continued to stroke my body with their incredible feathery touches, then slid their heads under my breasts as I braced myself on my hands. They rested their heads on the tummy of the girl eating me, and began to suckle my nipples, sending repeated shards of numbing pleasure from my cunt to my entire torso.
I was facing the bungalow’s open door, with my eyes on the muscular back of my guard, Leiuanu, standing outside in the torch light. He was turned away from me, seemingly granting the Chief a bit of privacy as his father now gripped my hips and began to slide his gnarled, purple prick into my wetness. At that point my mewling ceased and I began a repetitive, rasping, grunting deep in my throat every few seconds. It was a lingering, animalistic sound that coincided with my breathing, and was fed by a combination of the narcotic “sakau” I’d drunk and the ceaseless charges of pleasure shooting from my excited sexual parts.
“Uuunnnhhh…uuunnnhhh…uuunnnhhh,” I grunted, sounding like a feral beast being gored from behind, as the Chief very slowly plowed into me with long, sure strokes. It seemed an endless process…so easy, I thought…without the frenetic plunging I typically associated with fucking. My delight must also have shown on my face, as my eyes opened and closed as I accepted his horny barb and the soft, feathery licks of the three girls, since JJ was snapping several pictures of all of us engaged in the lewd communal mating. “Uuunnnhhh…uuunnnhhh…uuunnnhhh,” I continued, whipping my hair back and forth across my shoulders as I pushed back onto the Chief’s fat royal prick.
At some point he grunted to JJ, who laid down his camera, stripped off his clothing, and bared his own erection…no doubt a Viagra stiffy. My grunts caught in my throat as he knelt between the upraised legs of the girl sucking my right breast. He looked much too big for her and she squealed, but wiggled her trim hips a bit, soon to swallow his member between her protruding dark red labia. For a second I was jealous, and hoped that he’d save some for me later, but soon forgot my possessiveness and leaned over to kiss him deeply. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I was in love with him all over again. To show him as much, I reached down to help him as I had so many times with our swinging friends…massaging the slick junction of the moaning girl’s pussy as his hips drilled his cock into her, increasing their slapping tempo against her lean brown thighs.
Meanwhile, the Chief maintained his easy, mature pace, filling me nicely with languorous entries, then pulling out and up, which drew from me a constant stream of juice. Regardless of my earlier trepidation, I was pleased with the gentleness of it all – this ceremonial fuck with Pacific islanders – and felt no guilt or shame. At that moment the girl JJ was drilling came with a series of gasping squeals, and bit my right nipple a bit hard, which brought me out of my sensuous reverie. JJ stayed with her, stirring her deeply as she squeaked through her climax, then – as I’d remembered him doing so many times – withdrew to reveal his proud cock, still pulsing, as it slapped back against his belly. Then, as if the act were choreographed, he scrambled around the head of the bed and entered the girl sucking my left nipple, and began a similar servicing of that delightful little creature.
My arms were getting tired, though I hardly noticed it. I thought about dropping my head between the legs of the Chief’s gorgeous female attendant under me who was lapping at my pussy as the head man fucked me. Should I do a bit of licking of my own? I wondered. Instead, I looked up and saw Leiuanu staring in the front door. His eyes were focused on me alone, his arms folded across his chest, and below…under his purple-flowered groin wrap…was the unmistakable tent of an erection. He made no attempt to hide it from my gaze. He didn’t reach down to touch it or rub it. It was just “there” as I continued grunting, “Uuunnnhhh…uuunnnhhh…uuunnnhhh.”
I wanted then for him to come inside the hut. I wanted to suck his cock while we were engaged, I mused, as I’d done at our swingers’ club so often. Perhaps I could encourage him to fuck Muana or the third girl in the trio! But I wasn’t the boss here. The uninvolved girls were now sitting on their heels next to the bed, watching the rest of us undulate in a pile of flesh, perhaps waiting for an order to pleasure someone carnally.
In a moment of extreme desire for Leiuanu’s young body, I beckoned to him…trying to lure him into our salacious ceremony…but he responded with a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. I felt as if he’d spurned me, and I was momentarily stricken with sadness and frustration at his rejection. Hadn’t we spoken volumes with our eyes for the past couple of days? Didn’t he feel that I wanted him? His deep gaze seemed to transport me, and I closed my eyes, imagining that the Chief’s slow, grinding penetration of my vagina was that of his son…and after a while I began to cum, gaspingly.
As I moaned through a long, grunting orgasm it seemed to galvanize the others in the party. The girl JJ was tapping screamed a muffled climax around my left tit, while JJ’s stomach muscles knotted and released…knotted and released…spilling his load into the young female, and the Chief bawled out loudly as he – in turn – filled me with a torrent of thick, hot cum. Our collective joy seemed to last for minutes, until the Chief pulled from me, causing some of the seedy liquid in me to drain into the mouth of the girl sucking at my pussy. When all was over I fell thankfully to one side, still breathing deeply.
“She “happy”,” said the Chief, gruffly, as he got up and sank back into his chair, while his attendant – who’d slurped his sperm overload from my thighs – helped Muana polish his purple knob hygienically with their cleansing lips and tongues.
In minutes they were all gone, leaving JJ and I breathless on the mats, with only my guard, Leiuanu, standing outside, once again facing the village. I was a bit disappointed that everything had ended so quickly. It’d been several days since I’d had sex and I was still more than a bit horny – maybe it was the “sakau” – and I knew it would be a while before JJ was again ready. So, while he downloaded the photos into his laptop, I went outside in back to use the garden shower and wash the ceremonial semen from my body.
The water was warm and there was plenty of it. I lathered my hair, washed the sticky cum from my legs, and scooped thick gobs of it from my vagina in the moonlight. As I massaged my breasts and pussy, I wanted to masturbate…anything to continue the sensual feeling that had been kept at such a high level for so long. I stood back in the three-sided shower and began to stroke my clit with one, then two, fingers, until I saw a trace of something moving several feet outside the shower in a copse of banana palms. I strained my eyes to see and was soon rewarded as the brown shoulder of Leiuanu, and a bit of his straight black hair, shone in the moonlight. I groaned aloud and bared all of myself to him – teasing him – by turning my back and exposing my soaped ass, rinsing, then turning and lifting one leg to stand it on a mahogany bench as I spread my pussy lips and rinsed them.
He continued to stand in the shadows and watch – just a few feet away now – until I whispered, “You want to be happy, Leiuanu?” using the Pohnpeian colloquialism.
“No,” he murmured, gently. “Is night of Chief.”
Much as I wanted him, I understood what he meant. Where royalty was concerned, JJ had told me, if I’d been ovulating – off birth control – custom dictated that the Chief had the head man’s right of impregnating me…without the confusion of competing sperm. Since that wasn’t a real issue I asked, “When, then?”
He shrugged, doing little to assuage my hunger for him. I knew, however, that his stoicism was artificial, since his groin was still bulging with desire. “No tonight,” he reaffirmed.
“Will you show me your…” I asked, pointing to the tent at his crotch.
“No,” he said, emphatically.
My Gawd, what discipline! I thought. “Well…will you hold my hand…please?” I asked, pleadingly.
He sighed and moved toward the shower enclosure, reaching out his hand to gently grasp mine. I pulled him as closely to my naked body as I could, then sat down on the mahogany bench, splaying my pussy open for him. I felt his hand stiffen around mine and heard him gasp as my fingers spread my labia and began to stroke my clit. If not tonight, my gorgeous Polynesian boy, then I’ll give you something to dream about, I thought, as my head lolled to the side and I began pleasuring myself.
“You Audra,” he whispered, as my fingers flew.
“No, Leiuanu…I’m…Ginny…and I…want to…fuck you…in the worst way,” I whimpered, as I looked at his strong, brown calves below his wrap, then up to what I imagined must be a gorgeous set of male parts. Above his low-slung sarong, I wanted to drool all over his tight stomach, then kiss him all the way up his chiseled body, nipping at his brown pecs, then consume his sweet face, tasting every bit of his young mouth. “I’m…just…Ginny,” I said, repeating it over and over again, “just…Ginny…just…Ginny…just…Ginny, and…ooooohhhhh, Leiuanu,” I cried softly, as I reached a climax while losing myself in his all-seeing black eyes. I trembled and twitched for minutes, my nails digging into his palm, until I was still, gasping, and dying for him to embrace me.
But, he’d heard JJ walking out the back door and had released my hand to trot away. Sadly, I went inside to talk with my father-in-law and seek solace. In bed I licked away at his cock but it did little good, as he complimented me on my session with the Chief, anxious to fall asleep. But on this night, apparently his dose of Viagra was only good for one prolonged erection, enjoyed by two teenage girls in this Paradise of ours. I “hated” what his prescription drugs were doing to him. Or, was it that he just needed to watch me fuck? Or, was it something “really kinky” – maybe in my own mind – that I still hadn’t grasped?
“Please vote and send constructive feedback. The vacation continues in Chapter 2″