Akua ka ‘ao Hawai ‘i
( A Hawaiian Ghost Story )
This got high ratings from the peeps into paranormal erotica on literotica.com, but now that I go through it it’s almost unreadable to me (-_-) oh well…
I was following my wife Pia up the side of the mountain.
We weren’t exactly walking up, but not really climbing; we grabbed our share of roots and rocks to help the ascent, and I would have hated to fall, but so far so good. We had decided to forego any gear besides gloves and good climbing shoes. No problem, at this point.
Unless you count Pia being in front of me. I didn’t, though. Usually.
I had long since put that particular demon of pride to bed. I’m 6’2, a former Marine and in decent shape, good enough to go climbing the semi-sheer walls of Iao Valley on Maui. My headband was damp from the effort of moving my 190lbs up and up, and there was a dark wet patch down the center of my broad back as we navigated the roots and rocks up the side of the valley.
But it was a good kind of exertion; I was sweating, really feeling it in my muscles. I was always up for challenging myself, physically.
Pia’s physical condition was something else entirely. Where I might be “fit”, close to the shape I was when I was in the military some fifteen years ago, Pia was fitter than most Recon Marines I’d known. She worked her body the way some evangelists work a sermon. Running, biking, swimming and climbing, she did it all well. She was a head shorter than I was and five years older, but she had much less body fat, way more skill, and she was a joy to watch as she ascended the “trail” we were following. Her lithe, taut body almost floated up along the footholds as I admired the perfection from behind. She wore loose shorts of a thin nylon weave, a baggy T top, and a bandanna to hold her hair.
We’d been in this particular valley before, its lush green climbing up to blue skies, once when I was showing her different sites, other times just hiking or climbing. She’d lived on Maui as well, longer than me in fact, so she knew some of the local history and legends. I was working towards my doctorate in Sociology at UH, and part of my work involved becoming familiar with local historical sites. So now and again I would mention a little factoid.
One such tidbit: the valley we were in had been very important when Maui was under attack from the great leader Kamehameha ( Ka-meha-meha ), in his effort to unite all of the Hawaiian islands back about 200 years ago. As it happened, the people here on Maui then did not care to be united with the other islands, and fought ferociously against Kamehameha.
I wasn’t thinking about this now, though. I was focusing, putting one foot and hand in front of the other, ascending. Unlike Pia, I was not exactly floating after a few hours of effort. Also, I was continually distracted by Pia’s amazing rear end as she moved up the valley wall.
Comforting, caressing her behind with my gaze while I nursed quiet whispers of bent pride. The breeze felt good, and the combo of the view and the cool wind made the climb exhilarating.
Pia stopped suddenly as my thoughts were getting fairly involved about what I might do with her derrière. I moved up to her, molding my body against hers from behind, against the side of the mountain. “Mmmmmmmm,” I said into her ear, enjoying the contact. Cool wind ruffled my top, blowing over the hot points of my skin. I smelled some kind of flower, nearby.
“Shhhhhhh,” she said, looking out over her shoulder past me at the surf far below. “Do you hear that?”
“The waves? Kinda far to hear, eh?”
“No,” she said, tentatively, scanning around as if trying to pinpoint something. “Deeper than that… maybe something more… ”
“Desperate?” I said, not following.
“Yea…” still a serious look on her face. “Like… wheezing… long, labored breathing…” With this she flashed an amazing smile, and with a girlish laugh was gone like a shot. Her red hair almost hitting me in the face as it whipped out from under the bandanna, as she spun around and scampered up out of my reach, giggling.
I followed after her, trying not to breathe quite so loudly. I slipped into the mode where I push myself, my body becoming more of a mechanical device than the flesh and blood where I happen to spend time. She was flitting up the side of the mountain apparently without effort, but I was pushing myself and gaining on her. After maybe ten minutes of this cat and mouse, we came to a bit of a clearing with a spectacular view. The large ledge had some brush and trees, and there was volcanic sand under our shoes.’grabbed her with my heavy, rubbery arms and pinned her against one of these trees as she laughed.
“Problem?” She laughed with a smile, accepting my control of her and rubbing back against me. The thin nylon of our shorts made the contact delicious. My hands firmly on her upper arms, I pushed her against the tree, answering her hip’s movements with my own.
“No problem at all, Miss,” I breathed. “I just have something… I’d like to discuss with you…”
“Oh? What’s that?” She asked in a casual voice, her hips now moving in soft circles against me as I started to swell in my shorts. I adjusted, and put the growing length of myself between the cheeks of her ass.
This felt delicious, her tightness rubbing up against me.
“It’s something that’s just recently popped up,” I breathed into her ear. “And it’s very important we attend to it.”
She laughed at the corny line, but her body was definitely reacting. Pia was amazingly sexual, though she kept this under wraps around others for the most part. She had a high-visibility job as a counselor and needed to maintain a very careful air about herself most of the time.
But here on the side of the Iao valley, that wasn’t the case. She had a definite wild side, and it was coming out.
My hands moved around her front and found her swollen nipples, poking urgently through the thin, stretchy fabric top. She was braless today, and I had easy access to her. My fingers tweaked and circled and tugged those firm points, bringing out moans as our hips worked together, and soon she was breathing as heavily as I had been.
Good, I thought. There was a method to my madness, certainly.
I knew I would have little chance of rest if Pia and I played around up here. Like everything else physical, Pia threw her heart and soul into lovemaking and it was always delicious, though rarely a restful and relaxing experience. But snogging was a different kind of exertion, and I’d welcome a break from the other, perhaps more boring kind.
As my hands and hips continued to work, I nuzzled her neck, kissing and running my tongue along her there. It was rare that Pia would become submissive, but when her body was tended to just right, played like a fine instrument, she gave up the control she was so used to having, surrendering in one of the few ways she knew how.
It was always exquisite to behold, and now was no exception. Her head bent forward just a little, as she accepted my control of her.
I breathed in deeply from behind, my hips moving more urgently now. I inhaled that scent she has, her compelling mix of pheromones and sweat and magic she gives off when she exerts herself. It was intoxicating and irresistible. I lapped it up, literally, as I became more imploring with my hands and hips, drawing moans now along with the heavy breaths and sighs from her.
The next part of subduing my lovely wife was to shock her. In a flash I raised my arms up, lifting up her top and bringing it over her head, exposing her chest, nipples and back to the air, tossing the top aside as she squealed. In the same fluid motion I pulled her shorts down, grabbing the panties as well. In seconds, I’d stripped her down to her climbing shoes and gloves as she leaned against the tree, panting, her fingers stretching out for purchase.
The view now was delicious. Her soft red hair was spilling from under the bandanna, cascading between her shoulders and down her toned back. The definition of her muscles, flowing like a beautiful river down to her lower back, her amazingly taut rear and legs all made a definite impression on me. As I knelt after pulling her shorts down, I could see the whisper of her feminine folds, thickened and swelling now, and clearly covered with her dew.
The scent here was just as powerful, if not more so. I was paradoxical- on my knees yet dominant; the sand on this ledge was soft underneath me. My hands went to her hips, taking her almost reverently, gently yet firmly, as I brought my face to her.
I ran my tongue over her delicate folds from behind, and her moans made my own arousal swell and flex in my shorts. Fully up now, I was pulsing; very soon I’d need a wet and warm place to fit it. But for the moment, I kept oraling Pia.
Up and down, around in slow circles, I couldn’t reach her clit from the position I was in, and that probably made the tease of the feeling much more intense. I knew it had to be throbbing by now, aching for some relief. She was –so- wet. I lapped it up eagerly, tasting the juices there, almost drinking from her. Her tender, warm cleft yielded under my tongue as I probed and thrust it up inside of her.
Distantly, I could feel the breeze on the side of the valley. I could feel the sun on us, and hear the surf in the extreme distance.
I grew bolder with my tongue. Knowing more than a few of her body’s secrets, I began to speak the particularly delicious language she enjoyed from behind. I let my tongue roam freely around her tight little hole, back there.
In response, Pia shuddered and moaned even louder, a hissed “Yesssssssss” escaping from her pursed lips as I did this. She planted her feet wide apart, giving me still more access, her head bent forward.
Pia loved attention back there, and I began to worship that part of her body… with my tongue, and with the occasional stroke from my fingertip. Slowly teasing her and making her ache and tingle as I knew how. As the shuddering increased and her wetness began to run down her inner thighs, I knew it was time to take her.
With her tang still on my lips, I stood behind her. One hand moved up and took a fistful of her hair, entwining my fingers in it, communicating in a primal way that she was mine, totally. With my other hand I reached down, lowered the top of my shorts, found my throbbing length, and placed it at her swollen, velvet entrance.
Another gasp, from both of us this time. The heat on the tip of me was incredible, and it instantly drove me mad. I had thought about teasing her, but now there was none of that.
I pushed in, filling her quickly, slipping all my length up inside her slick, tight sex right there on the side of the valley under the Maui sun. With my body I pinned her to the tree, knowing she could handle the roughness against her chest and nipples while I took her from behind.
I pushed hard enough to lift her, driving myself up inside of her all the way, then pulling almost out, and doing it again. And again. And again. We fell into a rhythm, the two of us edging more towards animal than human, up there… grunting and groaning and taking pleasure from one another in the great outdoors.
It was exquisite.
We plowed on, gradually building up speed and intensity, the two of us coming together harder and deeper, the sweat starting to run off of us in the most erotic of ways. In time I felt her familiar trembling beneath me, a sign I knew of her impending climax. Along with her moans getting louder and her making a tight little “O” with her mouth, giving her panting and groaning the most sensuous sound, I knew she was close. I pushed on, pounding into Pia from behind, helping her draw closer to her climax.
That was the last thing I remember, before everything went black.
Actually, that’s not quite true. I remember motion of some kind, like the world was being pulled away from me. I remember a loud crack, like something very strong giving way. A falling sensation.
Then inky darkness.
Time had passed. That much I knew. When I opened my eyes again, it was cooler. Night had fallen, and a full moon poured light in from above.
It took me long moments to get my bearings. I was in some sort of cave, but with no ceiling, it seemed. Above the rough stone “walls” the place was open to the night sky, and the moon and stars were breathtaking. It seemed I was at the mouth of the “cave” in the side of the valley, about where we were stopped but now surrounded by irregular rough stone on three sides. The place wasn’t anything close to a regular room, there were many turns and bends in the volcanic rock walls.
In the distance, I could still hear the waves.
I had a taste I could not pinpoint in my mouth, something faintly metallic. Also, I could not account for the time passed with my internal clock. It felt as if I’d been lying there a very long time.
Looking around, I figured the ground must have given way there on the ledge, and we’d fallen into this open chamber of sorts. As I came slowly to my senses, I became aware of some new aches and pains, though nothing major until I absently pulled my shorts up from around my ankles. The aches were accompanied by a searing flash of pain in my right ankle, moving up my body like a stroke of hot lightning. I looked down, suddenly gasping with the intensity of it.
Definitely broken. The shape of my ankle wasn’t too promising, and it was very swollen.
Pia. The name registered with a loud snap in my mind.
Instantly I was alert, male instinct kicking and shoving the haze in my head aside as adrenaline poured into my system. I was at once fully alert and keenly aware of my environment. My leg was forgotten for the moment. After a second of searching, I spied Pia’s form.
She was on the ground, unconscious, but in the bright moonlight I could see she was breathing very well. Her legs appeared uninjured and none of her other limbs were bent at any odd angle, nothing swollen. She must have landed on the smooth, sandy floor of this place and been knocked unconscious.
She was still nude, except for her climbing shoes and gloves. Her beautiful body sprawled on the sand in the near-darkness. I started to make my way towards her, putting absolutely no weight on my right leg. I distantly registered the oddness of sand inside the cave. That would mean…
Then I froze.
Something caught my eye, over in a corner against a wall.
There was a pile of something, but the moonlight faded over there, and I couldn’t tell what it was. As I squinted and tried to make it out, my heightened awareness brought a sound to me. Almost imperceptible, for a moment I’d thought it was nothing.
But I was experiencing something I hadn’t felt in a long time, since deployment in Afghanistan. The hair on the back of my neck and arms was standing up now, a tingly sensation moving across my skin. Out in the field on patrol this sometimes happened when I was on point, leading a squad through the brush.
It meant something was near.
Something, or someone. I couldn’t hear it, but a long time ago I’d learned to trust my body, and my body was telling me now to be very quiet, because danger was close at hand.
Injured and in running shorts, I scanned around, keeping my body very still. After a long moment I moved slowly, bending down and gathering up a softball-sized rock and another smaller one I put in my throwing hand. I very quietly and deliberately moved closer to Pia, so that she was lying right at my feet. I melted against the rock wall, into a deep shadow, and waited.
It took some time, but in a while my body oriented itself towards the danger it sensed. On the far end of the chamber, near that pile I still couldn’t make out, there was something incredibly large and vaguely man-shaped, a darker shadow against the dark volcanic rock. At first I thought it was just my eyes playing tricks, but no… Pai and I were not alone. He was definitely there.
And he was definitely huge.
Silently we both waited, and after many more of my heartbeats, I could hear his breathing. Deep and low and calm. I felt I could even feel him somehow, there in the moonlit darkness. When it became obvious somehow That I could hear him, that I perceived him, he stepped out from the wall into the moonlight, which in the middle of the area was like an eerie sort of spotlight.
I blinked. Then I blinked again. This was a little hard to take in.
The guy stood an easy 6’8″ or so, maybe more. He was massive, and well muscled in the way farm boys who become defensive tackles are. His skin was dark brown, and his other features painted him as full Polynesian. His hair was dark, a bit on the long side, and swept back.
He had Polynesian-style tattooing across the right side of his face, under his eye also swept back.
His figure was imposing enough, but how he was dressed struck the most surreal note. He had a necklace of very real-looking boar’s tusks around his neck. He was bare-chested, his pecs jutting out and down like twin slabs of flat brown stone. There were more tattoos here, arranged in an intricate pattern across his upper left torso. He wore a dark length of fabric around his waist that came to his knees, underneath this a belly protector of thick matting, woven tightly.
Although I couldn’t name the various parts of the outfit, I registered instantly he was dressed in very accurate historical Maui warrior garb. This guy had the look down pat. He was even the right age, early 20s or so. I noticed a very formidable looking club, a newa, idle in his huge hand at his side. He saw me look at it, then look back up at him.
The faint hint of a smile came to his face.
I didn’t care for him being here or watching us, or his wild outfit. Or the large newa he had. He moved almost imperceptibly closer to us, and this made me care for him even less. He was in our space, and violating it more with every inch of distance he closed between us, with his size and his weapon.
A mix of training and stupidity took over. I knew on some level that if I was to get the newa away from him, I had to act right now, when surprise was on my side. I was injured, and I had to protect Pia. I did several things at once, out of habit and instinct, falling back on past skills as well as whatever was hardwired into me. After that split second of assessment, I flung myself into motion.
The heavy rock left my hand, bound for his head. What followed was a blur, but also as if it was in slow motion. I was rigid, still for almost a second as I was positive the rock had struck him. But he continued towards me with the speed of a jaguar that’d been waiting to spring, as if the rock had passed right through him. Instinctively, my other hand came up and around, the smaller rock in it and heading for him as he was on me.
I had one last split second to brain him with it, before things got really bad.
His broad, flat palm stopped the rock and my hand in mid-swing; the motion was like something out of a movie. One moment my hand was arching down to introduce the stone to his temple, the next moment the swing had stopped, the rock and my fist now squarely in his palm; the impact translating down my arm and body, bringing another wave of blinding pain to my ankle.
We were now up close to one another. He looked into my eyes, and smiled that almost-grin again.
From here, time started again. With a simple twist the rock was out of my hand, dropped with a dull thud to the sand below. I was now off balance and in his grip, and he simply pushed me backwards, my own weight carrying me into the wall behind me. Yet another lightning bolt of pain shot up my leg and through my spine, as I’d put weight on it with my tumble back. I’m sure I cried out for a second.
Instead of raising the newa and splitting my head, he stood for a moment watching me.
After some contemplation he backed up, then turned his back on me entirely. He moved across the chamber retrieved a kukui torch from the floor of the chamber and lit it with a spark, placing it in a setting in the wall. The light was harsh and sudden after using just the moonlight for so long. It took a while for my eyes to get readjusted.
I could see less, actually, in the torchlight. The whole place had a supernatural sort of look to it, like some sort of temple from the movies. Harsh shadows danced in the torchlight. I looked again to Pia’s supple form, looking for all the world as if she was enjoying a deep sleep.
After my eyes adjusted, I could see the walls of the place fully. There were petroglyphs on the wall, symbols and pictures that made up the written language of the ancient Hawaiians, and the odd flask, bowl, or torch on the wall or on the sandy floor. The place had a maintained look to it.
From my position now I could see the distant ocean, and I understood. This place must have been an ancient watch-point, where alert and eagle-eyed warriors from long ago kept alert for invading armies coming by outrigger into what was now called Kahului Bay. The caves used in historic times sometimes had sand on the “floor”, carried up from the shore.
The glyphs weren’t my specialty, nor was Polynesian anthropology. I just happened to go to UH, and you can’t spend too much time there without learning at least a little local story. The whole chamber had an almost eerie authenticity to it. One part of my mind took the place in, detail by detail… but most of my attention was focused on my guy in warrior garb, and where he was in relation to Pia.
He came to me now, slowly. His palms were both up in what I understood to be a near-universal sign of peace and no-harm. Hesitantly, I nodded, letting him into my space. In his hand he had a length of colored fabric, bright crimson. It was Pia’s bandanna, probably coming off her hair in the fall.
He knelt down in front of me, taking his eyes from mine and examining my leg. He put his huge hands on my calf, adjusting ever so slightly, and through gritted teeth I bore the pain this small gesture provided. Lighting-quick, he suddenly brought his strength to bear, and although my body wracked in excruciating pain for a moment, the shape of my leg was now normal again. It was a perfect field-setting of a broken leg.
The pain was there, but now more of a dull throb. He took the bandanna and wrapped it tightly around my ankle, bracing the set with slat of sun-bleached wood in an improvised cast. He looked up at me, questioning. I looked back and nodded slightly.
The leg was better, he’d done it correctly.
He seemed pleased with this, and didn’t seem in any immediate mood to pick up the newa and whack me with it, wrecking his handiwork. We both sat in silence together for a while, watching one another.
In the lingering silence, Pia began to stir.
It was as if he had not been aware of her until the moment. She made a sound. He turned, again with the grace of a jungle cat elegantly pivoting its massive frame, and regarded her nude form on the sandy ground. She was rolled over, her red hair loose over her shoulders and back, her lovely ass pointing towards the two of us, her lips there parted.
She moved a bit, as if dreaming, and as it happened her unconscious movements were amazingly enticing. That was my Pia. We both watched her, not making any noise.
For a moment, we were not two men, strangers, possibly enemies. We were two boys who’d stumbled onto something erotic, and didn’t want to disturb the scene at all, lest it vanish. We shared this long moment, silently next to one another.
Strangely, I was calm now. I was very acutely aware of his presence, basic male instinct aware of a competitor or enemy, but I wasn’t alarmed as I had been earlier. His outfit didn’t register with me as much as it should have, either.
And it didn’t bother me that he was looking at Pia this way, clearly taking in her naked form just as I was. Many men had looked on her this way, though none that I knew of when she was nude. I felt some measure of foolish male pride I suppose. Ridiculous and hardwired into the gender.
“She is yours?”
The voice was at once very calming, and very odd. It was deep as a valley crevice, but still had a hint of his youth.
But more, his voice had an odd quality to it. I heard his words clearly and understood them, but there was also another voice ( his voice? ) sort of underneath his when I heard it. A voice speaking in what was probably a dialect of Hawaiian. The effect was bizarre, but I could definitely understand his words.
The whole scene was getting very strange. He and his outfit, the glyphs. Now his preternatural voice. I looked into his eyes, and he asked again. I’d put aside the fact that he had to be some local, all done up in historical garb and stalking around some “undiscovered” caverns. But now a tingle of uncertainty with this hypothesis started to take hold.
“She is yours?”
I nodded, slowly.
He looked down at her again
“She is beautiful,” he said, simply. “Strong.” I nodded again.
Slowly he moved to her, and instantly my throat tightened up. Although he seemed peaceful enough at this moment, there was very little I could do, if his mood changed.
This was not a situation I was used to being in.
He knelt down to her, and touched her hair. Broad fingers and a flat palm stroked through her soft hair, and started to caress the smooth skin of Pia’s back. He was tracing a slow pattern with his fingertips and palm. She was still lying on her tummy, kind of curled up, but she responded to the touch.
I knew she would.
After sort of a long breath in she moved, laying herself out a bit flatter and exposing herself so he had more of her back to caress, though she didn’t completely come around. She was still in a sort of dream-state, perhaps due to her fall.
I watched this happen, a spectator almost as if I wasn’t in the room. I felt a bizarre mix of powerlessness, arousal and control. My body was not registering him as a threat, despite the intimate way he was now touching my wife. I knew somehow if I raised an objection, he would back off.
But I didn’t raise one, and he didn’t back off.
I watched him caress the smooth skin of Pia’s back, then along the top of her curved, taut rear. She moved slowly under his impossibly wide hand, her body answering though her mind was probably asleep. After some time, the warrior reached to his waist, and took something into his hand from a small pouch that hung there. I couldn’t tell what it was, some herb maybe.
But when he snapped it in his fingers under her nose, she awoke with a start. A sudden gasp, a very surprised look on her face, and her eyes wide.
Pia looked around, and saw me. She noted the cloth wrapped around my swollen ankle. She then looked to the warrior, his hand still on her lower back as he regarded her, letting the herb in his hand waft to the sandy floor. She seemed very calm, taking in all the aspects of the situation very swiftly, though maybe slow to process them.
She didn’t move away from him, indeed she seemed to not be afraid at all. She appeared to be coming to her senses slowly, as if just awakening from a deep dream. She seemed woozy, but oddly peaceful. If the chamber, the glyphs or the presence of a huge young man in Hawaiian warrior garb made any kind of impression on her, it didn’t come across in her demeanor.
She also didn’t back away from his touch, I noticed.
Still looking at Pia, the man intoned in his resonant voice, speaking both to me and her at once. “She is beautiful,” he remarked, while running his hand over her back one more time as he raised her up. His large fingers came across her cheek as he withdrew his hand and stood, towering over her and again regarding me for a moment, then her.
Pia was watching him intently, alert and calm, making no effort rise or to cover herself up. She was like that, utterly comfortable with her body, and it didn’t surprise me that she made no movement to find her clothes. We’d hiked the Kalalau Trail on Kauai earlier that year along Na Pali coast. Eleven miles in, eleven back, and Pia had done it as some slightly bent people do it- totally nude. “It’s traditional,” she’d said with a smile.
“It’s insane,” I’d replied. But she was at ease with her body, then on Kalalau, now here in the chamber.
She merely knelt on the sand, her hair now loose and flowing back over her shoulders, full and a bit unkempt as her eyes followed his movements. She looked to me for a moment, and without words we seemed in an instant to assure one another we were okay, despite the utter strangeness of our circumstance.
“Aloha,” Pia began, speaking the first words to him, palms flat on the tops of her legs as she knelt and watched him.
He was moving to light more torches, and as the room got brighter it took on an even more otherworldly quality, more light, and more shadows dancing in the soft warm breeze that filtered through this place.
“This is Parker,” she nodded towards me, then “I am Olympia.” She then looked to me again, gesturing to my leg. “He’s hurt,” she said matter of factly.
The gentle, warm breeze and the distant sound of the ocean mixed with the dark sky and bright moon above, the smells of the rock walls and sandy floor all around. All of this was bathed in a kind of soft light, where shadows danced from the multiple torches on the wall. At length, the young man spoke.
“I am Kaleo,” he said simply, his resonant voice matter of fact and measured. “I tended to his wounds. He will be fine.”
He didn’t regard me as he spoke, and he did not mention our brief struggle. He seemed more intent on Pia; not in a predatory way, but rather as if he was trying to place her in his memory, or figure something out about her.
His attention to her was complete, his eyes moving over her as if to caress her bare, smooth skin, taking in every part of her as she knelt. They formed an interesting contrast as I watched; although Pia was certainly strong, she seemed almost gentle and diminutive compared to the young warrior who called himself Kaleo. Although she was tanned from the Maui sun, she looked positively pale next to his dark, island complexion. She was petite, in comparison to his raw size.
“Can you help us leave?” Pia asked, after it seemed somehow he had completed his measure of her with his eyes, her submitting to that gaze and waiting for him to be finished with it. Her voice was just a hint imploring, looking to engage him for help. “We can’t stay here.”
This was true. I wondered how long we’d been here already, unconscious. Hours, I assumed. I didn’t have a watch or a cell phone with me, of course. Both were back at the car, doing no one any good.
At her words, Kaleo looked stone-faced, and a hint of sadness passed across his Polynesian features.
“You cannot leave this place. No one can leave this place.” His face was definitely sorrowful now, a great weight seeming to pass over his whole self, settling on him and making the mighty warrior appear worn and almost fragile.
The change was just short of startling.
“Why is that, Kaleo?” Pia asked, her eyes large and compassionate.
She was exceedingly good with people, especially those in distress, and her voice was perfectly pitched to put him at ease, and to convey a desire to help and understand. She wasn’t acting, I knew she was concerned, her empathy genuine.
This mirrored my own feelings, somehow. Despite the bizarreness of this place, despite the fact Kaleo and I had fought only a short time ago, and my leg was probably broken, despite the fact it seemed as if we’d been transported hundreds of years back in time, none of that mattered.
I wanted to know his story.
“Kamehameha comes soon.” Kaleo said, simply. As if we were all well aware of this.
He was of course referring to the king Kamehameha, the same one who would, through strength and force of will, unite all the Hawaiian Islands under a single sovereign in the late 1700s.
Something was starting to take shape, in my mind. It was just beyond my reach, as if I wasn’t ready for it just yet. Kaleo continued, his voice still an almost hypnotic blend of sound, Anglican and Hawaiian syllables flowing together.
“My people will meet him,” his voice held conviction, certainty. “And we will resist. Maui will embolden us with his strength once mother Hina blesses us,” he pronounced, gesturing towards the stars. “And we will defeat Kamehameha and his host.”
His voice was full of confidence. He was animated when speaking of the power of his people, the people of Maui. This island, named after the demigod who lassoed the sun and slowed it down for his mother, the goddess Hina, making the days longer and the nights shorter.
But then his countenance changed. The sadness slowly crept back. Speaking of Maui and Hina had given him resolve, but that was sapping from him. He looked down at the sand, as if to speak to it and not meet our eyes.
“Hina has not forgotten us. She will come,” he promised. “She will come.” Then he did look at us. “The mother of Maui will send her spirit, she will bless us, bless our bodies before we fight.”
His eyes were wide again, finding conviction and resolve in his own words, knowing with zealous certainty that Hina and her blessings would not abandon them.
“Only then can we defeat Kamehameha…” Kaleo’s voice trailed off there, that lingering subvocal Hawaiian dialect fading out just as the words we understood had.
Pia looked at him, soulfully. She then looked to me, her eyes asking a question, trying to understand the situation, trying to comprehend the sadness and need in this huge warrior. I nodded slowly, in answer to her unspoken question, the information seeming to pass between us.
As it happened, we had discussed this very topic not long ago. Hina was an alluring feminine being in Hawaiian mythology; the mother of Maui, goddess of the moon, and matron of the arts. The “blessing” Kaleo referred to was very likely some form of sensual ritual, performed in Hina’s name and meant to clear the mind and body, preparing it for the extreme duress of battle.
The Hawaiians were a very sexually open people; they were at complete ease sharing their bodies with one another and incorporating such things into their worship. My nod to Pia confirmed all this, and she in turn looked down at the sand in thought, taking in Kaleo’s words. Shortly, she looked back up at him.
“We cannot leave, until she comes,” Kaleo said again, the sadness in his deep voice almost another entity in the room with us, this time entreating Pia to understand, it seemed. His voice wasn’t desperate, but it sounded as if his faith in his matron was enforced, now. Something he needed to manage.
He then turned slowly, and went to the wide gap in the rocks facing the sea. He stood there, straight and immobile, the warrior manning a post and quelling the desperate fear that somehow he had been forgotten. By his people, or by his goddess. That fear, that loneliness was building inside him, and I knew he was struggling with it, reining it in as he faced the distant surf.
It was one of the deepest fears all warriors had; being forgotten, abandoned by the people you were charged with protecting.
I watched him for a while, but my eyes finally came to rest in the corner, where I had first seen Kaleo as a shadowy outline against the dark stone wall. In the moonlight, I couldn’t make out what I was looking at, the jumble of something on the sand.
But now the room was lit by the torches, I could see.
In the corner, up against the wall, was a pile of bones. A full skeleton, from the looks of it, lying on its side. I knew what I’d find, but my eyes searched anyway. Around the neck of the skeleton was a string of boars’ tusks, and around the waist of the form was what might have been a length of dark fabric, now bleached and tattered. Next to it was a large newa.
Now I was filled with the sadness Kaleo wore on his own expression. When I looked up, Pia was watching me. I slowly nodded silently to the bones. Her gaze moved over and rested there for a long while, before returning to me again. I nodded again, and we shared unspoken insight.
Somehow, we were caught up in something here in the Iao Valley I’d find very hard to explain to my thesis advisors.
If I ever saw them again, that was.
Pia, still kneeling, finally spoke.
“She’s not coming, Kaleo, is she?” Her voice was clam as always, sad and understanding. She was reaching out to him, with her words, feeling the depth of his sorrow and consoling.
Kaleo stayed facing the surf, then looked up at the full moon for a time. It was here his youth was truly apparent, his dedication to something he’d been told, something he believed in and clung to, though his doubts had worked their way into every part of his expression.
I’d seen that expression a lot in Afghanistan.
“She will come,” he said simply, looking outward at the vista. The giant warrior seemed almost gentle, for the moment. Vulnerable.
“I have been waiting so long. For many, many tides I keep the vigil, preparing for battle. Readying my body and my spirit. I will go before Kamehameha’s army and keep Maui’s home from his hands.” His resolve grew as he spoke the words out loud to us. “She will come and bathe my body in her glory, prepare my spirit. Make me strong…” His words trailed off again, moving from the topic of Maui, which had given him strength, to that of Hina coming to anoint him, which was a source of deep, soulful sorrow.
She didn’t come, I knew. This place had fallen to Kamehameha.
If the goddess Hina could indeed hear her people, their pleas had not been enough, or her power had not been enough, to save their way of life.
Kamehameha had believed in what he thought was the greater good of the Hawaiian Islands, and he traded with the whites for guns and the skill to use them. With this advantage he brought the islands under a single leader; he was thereafter named King Kamehameha I.
The power of Hina to embolden the warriors of Maui, the gifts of the Moon Goddess, had not been enough. They had fought bravely it was said, fiercely, but in the end, it had not been enough to defeat the would-be king’s army.
As a former Marine, I understood this as the way of things. But for Kaleo, not even having had the chance to fight, to test his mettle against an equal enemy… now perhaps cursed to spend the ages here in this place waiting for a sign of his goddess and her blessing… I had no way to know what that must have been like.
Profound sadness. It rolled off of his large frame, like a river coming down the side of a mountain. His enormous shape framed by the light of the sky, filling the entryway of the chamber as he looked out over the distant waters. Still waiting for Hina, and for Kamehameha.
The silence drew on. Then it was broken, a clear feminine voice springing up from the malaise now hanging in this air, in this place.
“I am Olympia,” my wife rang out. “And I am a spirit of the Moon,” she continued. “See me, Kaleo. Look on me.”
I looked to Pia. Her voice was louder now, carrying and reflecting from the walls up into the night sky, up to the bathing light of the full moon. Her speech had authority, the weight of something more than it had before. She was standing now, hands at her sides along her bareness, facing Kaleo with her back to me. I noted in an instant that she had kicked off her climbing shoes, and discarded the gloves.
Her lovely form was outlined by the firelight, and the shadows of the place danced across her body as she spoke. She lifted her arms up to the sky, slowly, and spoke again. This time, her voice rang with that same otherworldly quality Kaleo’s did, some distant feminine echo in Hawaiian as she spoke her words.
I was transfixed.
“I am Olympia,” she repeated, steady conviction in her voice. “I am a spirit of the Moon, from Hina the Source. I serve the Goddess, and bring her will to the sons of Maui, to her son’s people…”
Kaleo had spun, facing her now, and was nothing less than transfixed as well by her words. I was taken aback, but he was truly in the grip of them. He bent at the knee, setting his newa down almost reverently before slowly re-entering the chamber and approaching Pia. His eyes wide, his broad, strong body square to hers. The large muscles stretched over his frame were tight now, storing massive potential power, moving over his body as he struggled to contain himself before her. He faced her, looking down into her eyes.
He was trembling, very slightly.
Pia looked up at him, returning his gaze with her own. She was steady as time, not trembling at all, a compassion radiating from her.
After a few heartbeats she closed the distance between the two of them, stepping softly in the sand and coming to him. She stood before him, the top of her head not even clearing his neck, her head bent up now and her arms lowered as she looked at him, taking him in with her gaze.
I felt my chest tighten a bit. I watched her tend to the massive warrior, knowing what I was about to see, and reeling about how I was going to be peace with it. My heart was beating in my chest now. I could feel it, easily, and it was getting louder as I watched my wife.
Pia put her palms on Kaleo’s bare chest. She caressed those muscles there, the slow sensuous movements that might start off a long, sensual dance. Her hands wandered further, over his nipples and his abdominals, up his ribs and to his neck. Her movements seemed to be a kind of blessing, having the hint of worship and sacrament. She moved slowly around him, a slow leisurely circle, her hands always on Kaleo’s body, trailing as she stepped.
Her skin seemed so smooth in the torchlight, her muscles gently moving as she caressed the young warrior. Her hair was down and flowing, almost wild. She was the woman I’d known for years, the woman I loved, whose body I knew intimately and whose soul had been bared to me. But now she looked as if she could be some priestess, some feminine kahuna serving an island spirit, serving the Moon, and Passion.
I watched her as she transformed, my love, but now she was a servant of Hina, mother of Maui. An instrument of the goddess’s will, and expression of her passion. She was giving herself over to the servant of Maui, preparing to bless his body and set his mind at ease before sending him off to his purpose.
Kaleo stood stock still, his feet planted shoulder width apart and his head turning a bit to follow Pia as she moved about him, his body clearly reacting to her touch. Standing behind him now, she pressed her nude form against his back, rubbing herself slightly against him, letting him feel her bare feminine body against his own. She moved back around in front of him, her hands at his hips but then moving up over his broad expanse of chest and gently to his shoulders. Gently she brought him down, so her mouth and lips were at his ear.
I watched his expression, as she began to whisper to him, softly into his ear, her full lips probably brushing against him. As she did this, her hands worked at his waist, undoing the tied fabric covering him, soon letting it fall to their feet. He was now as naked as she was. Her hands were at his hips again.
His body was definitely reacting to Pia’s, and her words. His face changed expression as I watched it, the moment almost impossible to describe. It was at once surrender and resolve, the discovery of some hot place inside of himself long cold.
What was she whispering to him, I wondered. Was it as simple as telling a young man how desirable he was, what affect a strong body had on a woman? Was she telling him about what she would do, to anoint him, and prepare his body for the trial before him? Was she offering herself to him, Hina’s body, the Goddess of the Moon incarnate here in this woman with soft pale skin, commanding him to take her?
As she spoke into his ear, her head moved slightly, and I was aware of every little detail of movement. The subtle sway of her hair as she spoke silently in his ear, the way her body turned, molding against him as she spoke, bringing them together. How she pushed herself up on the balls of her feet, even though he was leaning full down to her.
As I watched, she moved to the side slightly, and her arm fell from his shoulder, sliding down his chest, fingertips passing over his abdomen, and slowly moved through his thick patch of dark pubic hair.
I’m very much heterosexual, but I cannot honestly deny the impressed feeling, the recognition of an outstanding specimen I had when I saw Kaleo’s manhood revealed. It was almost unnaturally large and thick. It was hanging at half mast now, though rapidly rising.
Also, a single tear started down his cheek now as well, but it was not followed by others.
As my wife whispered into his ear, her head was moving now, slightly; perhaps she was kissing his ear, running her tongue over it, over his neck. I watched as her delicate fingers wrapped around his thick hose, palm up, and began stroking him off. The age-old movement served its purpose, and brought him very quickly to full, impressive mast.
I could see him pulsing, literally, in her grasp, his length swelling as more blood filled him, as he got firmer and larger and darker, there.
She worked him slowly that way, with a nuance and skill I had experienced countless times first hand. She was not merely jacking him up and down. She was learning the language of his body, slowly varying what she was doing as he minutely reacted to her. She’d squeeze harder sometimes, then more softly. She’d rub around the enormous head for a bit, and then stroke the shaft, pulling at his root. For a long time, she’d known only my own body this way, but now she was effortlessly learning the rhythm of another.
Very soon, his body followed wherever she led it. At this point, he was hers to do with as she willed. She was the spirit of the Goddess, blessing this young man with her gifts, speaking to his spirit through his body.
I couldn’t guess where Pia was heading, with this, but somehow I knew what I would see, here in this place. I’d experienced her more times than I could count, many wonderfully raw ways and places… but I had never watched her apart from the experience. I’d never seen her pleasure another man, never watched as another man had his way with her. A twinge of jealousy was there.
My woman, my Pia.
Watching her with someone, knowing she was wet as a faucet now, between her legs she was running over with heat and slick dew. I could see the effect she was having on her young warrior, the large bead of precum forming at the tip of his head as she coaxed his length that way. I felt those twinges, and I ached.
But much louder in my body was the symphony of arousal. I was hard as a rock myself, pulsing and aching between my own legs, tenting and pushing against my thin shorts. I’d had no idea watching my precious Pia be sensual with someone else would bring such overpowering sensations to the surface. My whole body spoke of it, any anger or rage definitely tempered by rampant and growing desire.
A desire to see Olympia tame this huge young man.
Or to see him tame her.
She was definitely coaxing the jaguar out of the cage, tantalizing him with delicious food; using her mouth on his neck, then working down to his chest and nipples. She suckled and nipped at him, leaving marks in the way she could be rough when highly aroused. All the while during her trip downward she continued to stroke and raise Kaleo, her dark, young warrior.
Again she knelt in front of Kaleo, but now with much more intimate intent. Her face was exactly level with his hips as she bent forward just a tiny bit, facing him with her straight and well defined back to me. Her hair cascading down across her shoulders and the middle of her spine, and her knees were apart. I could see the rounded mound of her sex, her lips wide and glistening as she tended to her charge. She was stroking him at his base, his large staff pointed skyward as she moved her hand up and down around him.
Her other hand braced against his massive leg, her mouth tending to those hanging orbs. Like delicate eggs, she caressed them with her tongue, rolling them over her lips and teasing them before bringing them into her mouth, bringing that warm wet feeling to him as she continued to use her hand.
More precum came out of his tip, almost dripping as she milked him. His breathing was heavy, and he was definitely succumbing to her talents. His hands still at his sides, his hips started to move slowly towards her, pumping, seeking more friction with her hand. He moaned deeply as she tended to his sac, running her tongue over and under it, lapping at the very base of him underneath. She then began the business of using her mouth in earnest.
She shifted a bit, so now I was watching them from the side, less than 10 feet away. Holding the base of him for support, she moved up and took the large head against her lips, drawing that bead of white cream into her mouth and sucking on him. As she did this, she looked up at him, into his eyes. Her whole body curved in beautiful, erotic vision of the archetypical female – male scene: She on her knees in front of him, looking up, his staff in her hands, the tip against her lips, her body subtly twisting and turning in a feline way as she tended to him.
She then opened her lips wider, and brought some length of him into her mouth. It would be difficult to bring to much more in, but I knew Pia would put her heart into it, like she did everything else physical. Her control was amazing to watch, taking inch after inch of her young warrior into her mouth, passing the thickness over her tongue, and down her throat as she kept her eyes up at him.
She then pulled out, holding the base of him and running her tongue slowly along his thick shaft, up and down, covering it, making it wet. She watched him as she did this, aware of only him and his sexual center, everything else forgotten for the moment. She rubbed his wetted length over her lips, slowly passed it over her face, anointing herself with him and his precum in the most graphic of ways, smearing the wetness in a sensual sort of baptism.
She teased him this way, subjugating herself to him, feeling him throb as she rubbed her face and cheeks with his wet thickness before taking him back fully into her mouth, working to get much of his enormous length past her lips. She was even more spirited now, more into what she was doing.
As she did this, she brought her hands off his hip and shaft, and took his wrists and placed them on her head, in her hair. With the implicit permission she gave him, his fingers found instant purchase in her hair, running through those reddish strands of silk and over her head as she grew used to the thickness of him. I could hear Pia moan a bit as Kaleo gripped her, inching away from being submissive to my wife’s skillful mouth and comparatively tiny form. To encourage him in taking control, Pia brought her hands behind her to the small of her back, crossing her wrists as if she were bound. This simple gesture awakened something in Kaleo, and he took control of the situation, answering the call she was giving him.
At first, this answering was tentative, as if he thought disturbing her might end the experience, or maybe he’d hurt her. But Pia was now bobbing her head off of him with some vigor, alternating between looking up at him and looking forward, closing her eyes and focusing on marinating his massive thickness in her mouth. Some small amount of saliva had gathered at her lips,(no ,) and was starting to strand off her chin onto the sand as she went.
Her tongue began to work him from underneath, slipping out now occasionally over her lower lips as she backed off his girth then returned to it. Her hands still behind her, she increased her motion a bit, coaxing him, almost taunting, and finally Kaleo gripped her. He was no longer caressing her hair and holding her head gently as she serviced him; he gripped her hair, held her head and directed her as he wanted her.
The slurping noises and guttural moans Pia was making grew louder now. I don’t know if I had ever been more keenly aware of this experience while receiving such treatment myself. Watching it, watching my wife perform this way on the young warrior was having a profound effect on my own arousal. Intervening or joining never occurred to me, but I thought at some point soon I might want a bit of relief, and my hand moved almost unconsciously to my own aching bulge.
Kaleo became more insistent now, gathering up her hair in a makeshift ponytail and bobbing her mouth off of himself, repeatedly making use of her lips and tongue as his own, getting into a rougher sort of rhythm. For her part, Pia kept up with the pace, more saliva mixed with Kaleo’s own fluid gathering around her lips and covering his chin, dripping in those long strands onto the sand. Pia’s eyes were also tearing up with her effort, but her face was pure bliss and passion. He was taking the pleasure from her now, as surely and strongly as she was offering it to him. The spirit of the moon was blessing Maui’s son with her mouth, with her feminine power over him. He was drinking deeply of it, her hair tightly entwined in his hands behind her head.
After an impressive amount of time with her hands clasped submissively in her lower back, her tight abs maintaining her bent posture and arch, Pia moved them again to him. Her grunts and gurgles were louder now, and it was probably for some small amount of control, but she also pleasured him with her hands.
She gripped and pumped the based of him, though a noteworthy amount of his length she could never get past her lips, squeezing and stroking him. She cupped his orbs, looking up into his eyes as she squeezed him there. Her hand moved between his spread thighs and into the back, and I heard Kaleo grunt as his labored breathing continued. Pia had found his small sensitive hole back there, and was no doubt teasing it, fingering him as she tended him, being bounced off his root.
Her knees were also spreading more. This arched her back even more beautifully than before, and opened her own flower up. I couldn’t see her there because of my side-on perspective, but I imagined she looked exquisite; swollen and open wide, running wet torrents with her own intense arousal. I could imagine her pulsing, aching for something to rub against or to tend to her there as she continued to pleasure her charge.
As the intensity of what I was watching increased, so did my own emotions. I was peaking, the whirlwind inside of me building up. I was jealous, no denying that. A twinge buried down inside of me watching Pia tend to another man, sharing her gifts and skills with someone else, making him moan and thrust his hips and feed his length into her mouth more and more vigorously. It was also enormously arousing, my own length like an iron tuning fork now, vibrating and aching powerfully as I watched her, as I watched them. My breathing was heavy, and my whole body spoke to the storm inside of me. I was now aware of the control I was exerting on myself, restraint from leaping up and tearing her away from him; subduing him, and dragging her from this place by her hair.
Of course none of this was possible, but it wasn’t this simple fact, the reality of my injury and his sheer power and his undeniable “interest” in what was going on that kept me rooted in place. Moreso, it was the raw eroticism of what I was watching, the display feminine power and endurance of my wife, matched against his sheer imposing physicality.
And that flow of power and control was startling to watch. She and I had been rough with one another at times, playfully energetic, even frantic and animalistic. But those were far cries from what I was seeing here; Pia was being pushed further than I’d ever done, probably further than she’d ever been before, and I know she was aware of this, in part of her mind; some small part not completely devoted to the task at hand. Kaleo was almost forcing her now, almost completely unbridled in his pleasure, his acceptance of the control she was giving him. Their sounds were definitely more animal than human; grunts and gasps, moans, yells and pants. Pia’s sounds most often muffled by his pulsing length full in her mouth, bobbing against the back of her throat or going fully down it.
He was building, it was clear from his pace and stance, and she knew it, signaling with her own body language he should continue. She coaxed him on even more, plying him with her fingers, her stroking, sucking and licking. She felt him building, so she would back off a bit, stroking him, running her tongue hungrily underneath and over him, or suckling just the head while looking up at him, wet mess running from her mouth and chin.
She’d then go back to sucking him in earnest, bringing him closer before backing off again, anointing her face once more with his sopping pole, rubbing the pulsing length over her lips and face. She alternated like this, totally consumed in the act, bringing him to an amazing point of no return.
When it came, it was loud. I’m sure Pia had some indication it was happening; a tightening I couldn’t see, an initial pulse of hot fluid over her tongue or down her throat. But she knew he was cuming, and she took him as deeply as she could at first, then when she started to gag, she brought him out so just the head was in her mouth, and gripped his length and orbs with her hands, milking the giant young man as he came.
He was yelling, holding her hair with what would have been a painful vice grip as he shot. Spurt after spurt, Kaleo shot what thick creamy ropes of seed into my wife’s mouth, down her throat, and onto her lips and face. His whole body was curved slightly, bent towards her in the sheer power of his release. He pumped his cream into her, and she swallowed what she could,a good amount spilling onto her face and her hands. The volume of it was impressive, and I knew Pia was not used to such a copious finish.
But as with all things physical, she handled it like a champion. She was moaning herself, panting heavily and rolling her hips up and down as he came, as she managed his orgasm, swallowing what fluid she could and taking the rest on her tongue and face.
After he seemed spent, she brought him out of her mouth completely, stroking him slowly, looking up into his eyes for… what? Approval, maybe. Maybe more likely for her own satisfaction, her own pleasure of having done that for him. Being equal to the challenge of his fierce need. She unquestionably had her own fire now, burning white-hot between her legs and all over her body. I could tell it was crying out from her in the way two people who share so much know one another, but she didn’t act on this. After a small amount of time as he gasped and caught his breath, she suckled a bit more on him, making sure she got all he had to offer her at that point before she finally released him.
Pai pitched forward now, catching her own breath. Her face was streaked with tears from her effort, soaked with Kaleo’s seed and her own saliva. It was messy but intensely arousing. I could smell the raw scent of sex in their air, all the various elements mixed and hanging there, musky and wet. She was still on her knees, bent forward and panting as if after a marathon run.
She then arched her back, leaning forward but looking up in a pose in what was almost a worshipful arc. He(r) hands were also wet, and she brought these to her own mouth. While she watched him and he watched her, she ran her tongue over her palms, cleaning herself in a very feline way, slowly and sensually, licking the thick warm seed from her palms.
I could not believe the power this was having over me. I had seen her be intensely sexual before, but nothing like this.
Nothing this base.
She continued her own primal ritual, rubbing in the wetness in her face, bringing it down to her chest, massaging it into her own nipples and cleavage, anointing herself with the residue of their sex. She ran her hands over her damp cheeks, suckled her fingers, drew them down to her own heat between her legs and brought them up freshly wet. She suckled them, tasting herself as Kaleo and I watched her.
This display of wanton raw sexuality was also having an effect of Kaleo. He was motionless, except for his breathing and his thick member. It was growing again, pulsing as I watched it, coming to full mast, shining from the wetness still covering it. Kaleo’s eyes were wide, perhaps never having seen a woman, let alone an emissary of Hina, display herself in such a way to him.
I stood transfixed.
He was rock hard again, watching her clean herself off like a cat. She licked her fingers, wiping the excess from her face and chest, and licking that too, rubbing what little moisture remained into her skin. She ran her tongue slowly over her palms, now probably just for the electric impact it was having on Kaleo, seeing this.
My own breathing was returning to normal, slowly.
Having watched Pia service Kaleo, tend to his emotional and physical needs, I had many feeling(s) stirred up inside of me, kicked up by the wind of the intensity of what I had just witnessed. I was getting my wind back, and my sense of place. Done with her cleaning, Pia was bent a bit forward, her hands on her knees, catching her own breath. She was dripping with perspiration, and looked exhausted and exquisite after what had happened. She was panting a bit, and I knew she was powerfully aroused, but remained for the most part still.
She looked up at him from her kneel, her eyes wide and up to his own, her mouth open, her lips full and no doubt still moist from her display. Her nipples stood out from her pert breasts, probably aching in the most severe way; yet she remained kneeling, the wetness running on the inside of her thighs.
It was lighting fast; with the speed and grace I’d seen earlier, like that of a pouncing jaguar, Kaleo took Pia in a fluid motion.
He grabbed hold of her by her hair and roughly rolled her from her kneel to the sandy ground, executing the move as a seasoned warrior. He was claiming his prize, now that she had submitted to him.
She cried out, gasped loudly, but it didn’t seem to me as if in fright. More shock, and exultation. On her back, her eyes were wide now, her mouth open as Kaleo mounted her. They were almost close enough for me to touch. He swiftly gathered her legs up, fitting the inside of his elbows behind her knees. For a brief moment I saw Pia open before him, her glistening flower, soaked and swollen and spread and dusted by the bit of red hair at the top, legs held wide open and ready for his penetration.
He looked down at her as he rocked forward, and I had stunning view of his curved hardness moving in, the large head parting my wife’s folds, her petals spreading for him. She stretched around him that way, receiving and gripping him like a vice, stretching for his girth as he sunk those inches inside of her. As he did this, he grunted loudly while she wailed her loud exhale of shock and raw pleasure followed by moans as her body struggled to accommodate him.
Her legs were up and akimbo, Kaleo poised on top of her like a runner waiting for the start signal. He was fully inside of her, his large sac flush against the crease of her rear now that he was driven fully in. His hips had rocked up with the power behind that initial thrust, and for a moment I felt a twinge of fear that Pia might be hurt by his assault.
This was silly, of course.
Pia’s body responded in kind, just as strenuously as if to answer back something like “oh yea…?”, rebounding from his impaling of her. Her arms wrapped vice-like around his neck, one forearm across his broad back, the other’s hand deep in his dark mane, clutching him, hanging on as one might cling to a wild stallion suddenly put upon. Her mouth was a wide “O” as she took in air, crying out in the heat and raw pleasure of his taking her, of his fitting that tool into her wet, throbbing crevice.
Kaleo thrust a few times, almost brutally pumping into her, stretching her out right from the start so that she might accommodate him. Soon his hands moved, releasing her legs from their splay and finding her own. He drew her arms up by her wrists and pinned them above her head to the sandy floor, trapping her surely beneath him.
He slowed his thrusts, angling his hips and adjusting, pushing himself slowly inch by inch back into her, filling her completely and watching her eyes as he did it, now holding her completely captive to his will. He bottomed out, having her pinned beneath her, and held her there for what seemed like an eternity where she let out a long wail of ecstasy.
Kaleo slowly started to pump again, his whole body part of the motion from on top of her. I watched as my wife’s strong legs wrapped about him, her calves curving and clinging over his hips, holding onto him and drawing him ever into her with what I knew to be a powerful force.
He was completely filling her, and I’m sure there was pain involved in his penetration, as well as the immense pleasure that shown clearly on her face as her sopping center stretched tightly around him. She was accommodating him only just barely, feeling every bit of his smooth, hot length as it sunk inside of her, and pulled out of her.
Her groan had gotten low, guttural and not like anything I’d ever heard from her in our time together. It was intense and animalistic, almost feral. She was struggling mightily to get her arms free. I saw her arms sharply defined as she flexed with the effort. She seemed to be pushing beyond something I’d seen before. In her, or maybe in any woman.
Kaleo looked as though he thoroughly enjoyed her efforts, her struggling, and he held her easily, pinning his prize to the sand with his weight and his manhood deeply sheathed up inside of her, pistoning her flower over and over.
The warrior was fully dominant now, and Pia was totally submissive to him, receiving what he gave her, powerless to resist though she still struggled. He slowed again, drawing his soaked length out of her so that the glistening tight skin of him shown in the torchlight, and she wimpered. Mewling like a kitten who’d had something precious taken away.
Her mouth was on his then, fast reaching up in a fierce, imploring kiss. She drew in his breath, took in his tongue into her mouth with as deep a kiss as she could manage from her supine position. Her kiss was desperate, urging, and needy.
She wanted him back inside of her, wanted to be filled that way again.
He laughed then, breaking her kiss and smiling down on her, and then flexed his powerful muscles. He answered her plea and brought his hips up in a shocking thrust that put his entire length up inside of her in a blink.
Pia yelled in response, rapture and fulfillment, her legs redoubling their clinging grip to him, her calf muscles rippling with the effort. Kaleo resumed his thrusting, in and out, withdrawing almost completely and then filling her up such that their hips rocked forward and his orbs slapped against her so that I could hear it happen.
Pia was caterwalling now, building up to what I knew would be an immensely powerful orgasm. The pitch of her moans and groans had changed, and Kaleo knew it. He drove into her confidently, knew he was speeding her towards a crescendo.
As he rode her like that, it came. Pia cried out as if in desperation, gasping for air and clutching the young warrior with every bit of her impressive strength, pulling him down and in ever more, needing to feel his penetration as completely as possible. As she climaxed, I imaged how it must feel, remembering how her body was and now seeing from this perspective for the first time. Her eyes tightly closed, her whole body shuddering almost in seizure. The orgasm washed over her like a strong surf break, pounding on the rocks of her body then drawing back ever so slowly, flowing again in recession. It lasted a long while, and Kaleo rode her perfectly through it, giving her only what she needed to make it last as long as possible.
As it faded, she was still clinging to him, and he was still thrusting into her, though more gently now. She was muttering something incomprehensible, eyes still shut and her head turned to the side as Kaeo still held her pinned fast to the sand, taking her a bit more slowly. He had an innate sense for her rhythm, the language of her own body and its ebbs and flows. The young warrior was as skillful lover, no doubt having had countless women before, but maybe none at all like Olympia, the spirit of Hina, the expression of passion and of the Moon lying beneath him, now cooing and gasping as he slowly filled her. He moved up a bit, his back arching so he could watch her more fully for a time. He released her wrists, and her arms stayed exactly where they had been pinned, Pia holding the pose of submission as he continued his slow, sensual taking of her.
He came up off of her, then. His movement was sudden and unexpected. Deftly he spun her unresisting body around again, bringing her to all fours. It happened that she was now facing me, and was very close. Her eyes were open now. She saw me, but she was also focusing on something very distant, or perhaps very much inside of herself. The look was pure lust, shocking in its directness and intensity. Her head was bent slightly forward in that gesture I recognized; pure submission. She was Kaleo’s toy, his object of worship now.
He held her hips, one massive hand over her pelvic bone as the other reached between his legs, guiding himself. I couldn’t see his entry, how her sex looked as it was parted again by his bulb, how the edges of her tight wetness clung to his smooth shaft as he sunk it again deep inside of her, but I could see her face now, only inches from my own.
I could feel her breath on me as she moaned. Her eyes open, piercing so deeply into mine as he penetrated her again. I read his insertion clearly on her face, the pleasure of it written across her expression as he took her again, then began taking her in earnest. She moaned, closing her eyes as he must have bottomed out that first time, then open again, and we were connected, our eyes lost in one another as he took her from behind.
Both of his broad hands were on her hips now, guiding her down onto him as he saw fit, pleasuring himself upon her velvet hot wetness. He began to pump into her again, picking up the rhythm, driving her again as he had before; but now I shared the intimacy. Her eyes were what… certainly lustful, but so full of other things as well. Imploring, maybe? Reaching out into the space between us, holding me even as she was taken from behind by this other man. We were connected as surely as if we were holding one another, as surely as if I were the one inside of her, now.
Those moments where we looked into each other, finding parts of our souls we hadn’t shown to one another before, seemed to last a very long time. The exquisite seconds moved on. I was aware of her moving forward and back, being taken from behind and rocking to and fro.
After some amount of time, the connection was complete. Not broken, just over. We had touched in the deepest manner possible across the space of inches. She was now completely back in her body, moaning and gasping with her current build up. She pitched forward, laying on the sand in her pleasure, laying down and offering her rear up completely to Kaleo as he gripped her, driving faster into her.
Almost at once, Kaleo reached forward, wide fingers splayed over her spine, then catching up in her hair. He gripped her by it, and pulled her up, as if gripping the mane of a fine mare and controlling her that way. Her pulled her up again, so that she was now eye to eye again with me.
My Pia was there, but the rational woman, the woman I loved was somewhere else. The woman I looked on now was a wild thing, an elemental spirit, the passion of Hina, the expression of that blessing. Her moans were more hoarse, now. The sweat was beading along her spine, and now that she was back up again I could see where the sand clung to her soaked chest.
My Pia, fully transformed now, was building up yet again to another intense climax. Her body was not her own anymore, it seemed. It might have been his, in a sense, but more fully it was someone else’s. The Goddess-spirit taking her completely now, not just inspiring her, but dwelling within her. As Kaleo rode her harder and harder from behind, the eyes that looked out at me now were peaceful, loving, and playful. Like the strange voice effect; I recognized Pia there in those eyes, but they were overlaid with something else, too. Something tender, almost motherly.
Her orgasm overtook her swiftly this time, slamming into her again like the huge surf pounds a reef, splashing and throwing up wash everywhere. Her body shuddered and her eyes rolled up, her head still held aloft by Kaleo’s grip on her hair as he took her from behind, driving himself further along that same path as he put her ahead of him. He had almost total control of Pia’s body now, holding her up and somewhat steady as she experienced her rapture, then lowering her slowly and letting her lay with her arms splayed out on the sand, her rear still high in the air and crowned by his large hands as he drove into her, rapidly approaching his own climax.
Pia was groaning, pitching forward with each thrust, spent but still in service, wide and accepting as Kaleo reached that final point of no return within himself. Again, I saw a change register in Pia’s face, in her expression. I knew the exact moment where the warrior splashed inside of her, soaked her with his warm seed deep within her. He gripped her hips tightly, his wide chest chisled and flexed as he came, his mouth open in a silent yell. He pounded those last few thrusts into her, each one another spurt, I knew. He cried something out, in those moments. For the first time his words didn’t come across in a way I could understand. Clearly it was something in Hawaiian, it had the meter of a prayer I thought, as he emptied into her, his priestess.
Kaleo held in her for a time, silent now, as the moment passed. He withdrew with an audible plop, and eased Pia down on her side where she curled up and seemed to coo, a look of contentment on her face, her eyes gently closed, her breathing a bit ragged but returning to normal now.
Kaleo stood behind her now, looking down. He slowly bent to his knee, and gathered up a bit of sand in his hand, then rubbed it into the wet mass of hair and softening length between his legs. This small ritual complete, he refit the belly protector to himself, and gathered up the length of fabric Pia had undone and retied it at his waist.
He stood for a moment, seeming to bask in the truth that the ritual had been complete; he was now cleaned. His body was satisfied, his spirit now clear. We then met eyes, and Kaleo was about to speak, looking down first as if finding the words.
But as he looked up and was about to give voice, a conch shell blew in the far distance.
His head turned down and towards the sound, snapping instantly. This was followed by two more short blasts from the same conch. He looked up at me then, his face elated, almost joyous. He bent to retrieve his newa, spun around, and dashed through the chamber opening.
And just like that, he was gone.
I look down at Pia again; she appeared to be sleeping, or maybe very near sleep. I carefully raised myself up on my good leg, and hobbled around her and made my way to the entrance of the chamber. The view outside was much like it had been when Pia and I were on the side of the valley, except for the darkness. Dawn was creeping up soon, and the air was cool. I smelled the different flowers of the valley on the breeze.
And I could see outriggers in the bay. Hundreds of them.
The long canoes were coming, each one filled with the warriors of Kamehameha’s army. Each one intent on subjugating Kaleo’s people, bringing the Hawaiian Islands under a single rule.
I watched for a time, and as the dawn started to breach I felt an incredible fatigue overtake me.
Good luck, Kaleo.
I turned inside, coming up carefully beside Pia and laid down next to her. I gently gathered her nude form close to me, spooning her from behind, my palm on her tummy.
Her head turned, though my guess was she was very close to sleep; it was an instinctual move I’d seen more times than I could count, and I answered it as I always did. I brought my hand up and smoothed her hair out of the way, and leaned over her a bit and kissed her softly on the cheek. She groaned the way sleeping loved ones do, and nestled in close to me. I stayed silent and held her that way, and very soon I was asleep.
Again, with a very pronounced falling sensation.
It was early morning. A bit of rain was coming down, and it woke me up. It was warm, a bit humid, and bright. Pia was close to me, still unclothed. We were on the chamber floor, bright sky above us. I moved slowly, careful to favor my leg when I noticed that no pain at all came from it.
The swelling was gone.
Pia’s bandanna was still tied there, but my ankle seemed completely fine, no swelling, no break. I stood, testing my ankle and finding it sound, and looking around the place. In the daylight, it was easier to tell what had happened.
At least, with how we came to be here on the floor of this chamber.
Where we had stopped on the valley wall must have been unstable and given way, and we’d fallen into an ancient watch site long since covered over with loose earth. The petroglyphs were barely visible now, all but faded with time. The pottery I’d seen was broken, the torches long since rotted to dust.
The bones were there where I’d first seen them; the boar’s necklace around its neck.
I stood for a moment, taking it all in, knowing I’d report the find as soon as we got back to Lahina but wanting to gather an scribe it into my memory as I’d seen it earlier.
I roused Pia. She was a bit disoriented, but otherwise fine. We didn’t talk, there being a comfortable and easy silence between us as we made our way down the side of the valley to the car.
This was a bit of a trick, as we never did find Pia’s top, shorts or panties. She did the descent wearing only her climbing shoes, her gloves, and a wicked smile.
As we drove down the road to the city, I wondered if we would talk about what happened. What would she remember?
What would I?