0 comments/ 9257 views/ 8 favorites Hawk Hunting By: eagelwolf This is an excerpt from a novel I am publishing here at Literotica. Just for fun, I have been releasing some of the sex scenes for those not interested in a long read. Following is a brief setup to the scene. ********** Gwen Yoshimura's world is falling apart. Her long time best friend, the Honolulu socialite, Betty Nagata, has cast Gwen out of her life. Distraught by her best friend's unexplained shunning, Gwen approaches Hawking Detrick, Betty's handsome boyfriend in hope of finding some answers. ********** Weeks after my big blowout with Betty, I ran into Hawking Detrick. Well, it was more of a sighting really. I saw him in my post-modern history class. Ironically, it was the very same class that Betty gave me the textbooks for. Hunting for the textbooks in her closet had led to Hawking's secret porn stash and the porn had somehow led to Betty shunning of me. I could count the times I had met Hawking Detrick on one hand. Although, our last meeting should have made me quite memorable since I had been totally naked, posing for a painting Betty was working on. His taste in sleazy porn aside, the guy was hot and his face has dominated many of my late night bed fantasies. My latest is me running into him at the end of the history lecture. We would be alone in the lecture hall. He didn't know who I was so to spark his memory, I strip naked in front of him and then he would say, "Oh yeah ... it's you, Gwen ... Betty's friend." Anyway, back in the slightly less absurd real world ... The class was held in a large auditorium. I keep a distance from him. I had no idea what went down between him and Betty and I didn't have the strength to deal with any more Betty fallout. Also, I was still deeply embarrassed about the naked modeling thing. What I knew about the guy was pretty sketchy: handsome, serious surfer, A grade student ... I think. Like any modern twenty first century woman, I Googled his name. Hawking Detrick-Heinz is his full name but he dropped the Heinz part a while back. It seemed that he was distancing himself form his Grandfather the famous physicist Eisenhower Heinz. Hawking completed his graduate work at San Diego State at the unbelievable age of seventeen. He did his grad studies at George Mason University where he cut his anthropological teeth at important archeological digs in Norfolk and Roanoke. At twenty seven, he is considered brilliant in his field and is now the coordinator for several archeological digs in the Hawaiian Islands. At the university, he wasn't quite an instructor, more of a long-term guest lecturer at the physical anthropology department. Betty had mentioned his frequent island hopping and I had assumed that he was looking for the endless summer on a surfboard. It was his job that moved him around a lot it seemed. Even the guy's love for surfing was way above par. A couple of Google searches told a story of a world-class surfer winning his share of surfing tournaments worldwide. In his interviews, he insisted everyone call him Hawk. He had an arrest record too. In California, he did two months in jail for chaining himself to the fence of an electrical power plant protesting the plant's habit of pouring pollutants into a local river. Goggle images popped up with endless shots of the guy looking good on the covers of countless surfing magazines. But I didn't need Google to tell me that he was hot; I saw that every Tuesday and Thursday for myself in the history department's main lecture hall. I made the decision to stop stalking the guy and meet him face to face. So, on the morning of the next post-modern history class, I wore a snug skirt and a nice white top. I even put on my hardly used contacts and some makeup. Looking good, I thought with a nod as I admired myself in the mirror at home. "What you up to Japanee girl?" I asked my reflection. "I simply don't want to approach him in my usual, grungy, Bohemian state is all," I answered back. Yeah right. At the lecture hall, I sat in a seat behind the row that Hawk usually sat in. My plan was to get his attention before the class started—after that I had no idea. As the minutes oozed by, I fearing that he picked today of all days not to show up. Just as the instructor showed up, Hawk appeared and moseyed to his his habitual spot. I slumped and held a notebook up to cover my face with just my eyes showing. His six-foot form looked good in a light blue polo shirt, khaki shorts and worn sandals. I admired his athletic build; apparently surfing kept him fit. Real fit. His blond hair was a little longish and sun-streaked, his skin a pleasing light bronze. Since the lecture had already started, I decided to make contact at the end. Before the lecture ended, I slipped out to avoid the bottleneck and found a spot just passed the door to wait for Hawk to emerge. Not accustomed to wearing my contacts, the late morning sunlight made my eyes ache. The double doors of the lecture hall slammed open and students spilled out in a torrent. The flow of people soon turned to a trickle but Hawk wasn't among them. Apparently he had taken some other exit out of the building. With dueling emotions of disappointment and relief, I hefted my backpack and made to go just when Hawk exited the building in the company of the instructor, the cool and sexy Professor Piedmont. They stopped a few feet from me to talk. "Dude, that bit about the Maoists was total bullshit," Hawk said. Piedmont laughed. "That's what history's all about, dude. The most persistent bullshit gets printed." Hawk laughed too. "See you at Waimeha Sunday," Piedmont said, waved and walked away. Hawk turned and walk right into me. He staggered back and said, "Gwen?" "Hey," was the best response I could come up with. Then after a silence the size of the Molokai channel, I finally said, "I'm surprised you remember me." A microscopic smile appeared on his face that seem to say 'I never forget a naked body.' "Betty talked about you all the time," he said. Evoking Betty's name made his face flush red. He looked in my eyes then turned his head aside and said, "You know we broke up." For weeks I rehearsed a whole slew of things to say to this man, from haughty to demanding, even seductive, but all I manage to squeak out was, "She broke up with me too." An unreadable expression clouded his face and neither of us spoke for a long time. To break the ugly silence, I asked, "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" He didn't speak for several beats more then he said flatly, "No." My heart sank like a stone in water at the rejection. Then he said, "I've had my cup of the day, make it a lemonade?" My heart soared like a sea turtle in a warm current. "Sure," I said. We headed to a nearby food kiosk and didn't speak until we were seated on a concrete bench shaded by a monkey pod tree. "I almost didn't recognize you without your glasses," he said with a smile. I liked his smile; it made me want to smile back. "Well, last time you saw me I'm sure you weren't looking at my face." He smiled and nodded. Oh-my-God I can't believe I just said that! To move the conversation far away from my naked posing I asked, "I thought you were a lecturer? Why are you taking this history class?" "Charlie Piedmont is a surfer friend of mine and this summer he's going on a book tour. He's paying me to critique his lectures to help him get ready for the big show." After another short pause he said, "Betty told me you found my movie stash." "She told you about that, huh?" I sighed internally, glad that it was he that brought up the subject. He took a sip of lemonade. "Betty said that you were totally freaked by it." Months of pent-up anger bubbling in my chest. "I was not!" I said too loudly. My outburst took Hawk by surprise and heads turned in our direction. I stood up, crossed my arms and spoke through clenched teeth. "She and I found the porno movies while looking for some text books. She begged me not to tell anyone and I didn't. Even when she tossed me aside like a pair of old shoes I kept my mouth shut." Close to tears, I took a deep breath to calm myself. "I don't understand why she's mad at you. Makes no sense," Hawk said. A bit calmer, but no less angry, I sat back down. "I don't know, but I think it had something to do with her mother. Camille hates me and somehow she talked Betty into dropping me from her life. I know that it sounds fucked up and paranoid but I've seen Betty do that to other people just to appease her mother but I never thought that it would happen to me." unable to hold them back, the tears came pouring down my cheeks, my contacts swam around in my eyes blurring my vision. "Why didn't you blab to the world about the movies after Betty blew you off?" Hawk asked. "She and her mother would have deserved it." I wiped at my eyes with the back of my forearm. Unexpectedly, Hawk handed me a handkerchief. I took it and after a rude snort of my nose, said, "I didn't know people still carry handkerchiefs." "Habit I got from my granddad," Hawk said simply. "Eisenhower Heinz, the physicist right?" I asked. Hawk nodded but didn't elaborate. I found that odd. "He wrote all those papers on time and relativity and wormholes and stuff." Hawk shrugged, clearly he didn't want to talk about his famous grandfather. If Eisenhower Heinz were my grandfather you couldn't stop me from bring him up every other sentence. Must be some bad blood there I figured so I backed off. I got out my contact kit and took the stupid things out of my eyes. "There are rumors flying around that you and I are sneaking around Betty's back," I said as I put on my no-nonsense Buddy Holly glasses. Hawk looked surprise. In fact, he looked a bit dismayed. I guess the rumors never came his way, probably because he didn't share the same friends as Betty and I do. I'm sure that Betty didn't start the rumors," I said. "I blame it on her mom." In my angry state I wasn't about to concede anything to my ex-friend so I quickly added, "When it came to her mom's will Betty has no backbone. I bet she let her mother plant in her rich kid's head that YOU having an affair with ME, her best friend, was less damaging in the public eye then YOU whacking off to a thousand porno movies." Hawk looked around to see if anyone had heard me. "I'm sorry!" I said quickly. "You want to go somewhere more private to compare notes on Betty and her evil conniving mother?" With an expression that I could only decipher as confused, he said, "I have a class to teach. I'll take you to dinner tonight—if that's okay?" I smiled. It was totally fine with me. ********** That evening at the Colombia Inn in Kaimuki, I sat across from Hawk. He looked good in faded jeans, a tasteful blue and silver silk aloha shirt and Birkenstock sandals. I wore a denim skirt cut just above the knees, a snug black top and enough makeup for aesthetic appeal. I had abandoned the contacts settling for the comfort of my glasses in anticipation of more crying. Over big bowls of Japanese noodle soup called saimin locally, we talked about Betty. Hawk tried to sound casual about his relationship with her, but I could tell that he held a deep, honest affection for her. "Betty's father hated my guts," he said. "He never once tried to hide his contempt for me, but Camille adored me and gushed whenever I visited." "Really?" I said close to shock at that bit of news. We had polar opposite relationships with Betty's parents apparently. Her father treated me like family but Camille always looked at me like something she had accidentally stepped in. The talk moved on to other subjects. The guy was funny, charming and really smart. After dinner Hawk drove me home in a giant white Ford Bronco. "This gas guzzling monster is not my choice," Hawk said in defense of his car. "The department provides me transportation. Some of the sites I have to get too are only assessable with four-wheel drive." We pulled into my street. Not wanting to end the evening just yet, I asked, "You wanna talk some more?" He went quiet and I was sure he was going to say no. After all he's an instructor and I a student, not to mention the fact that he dated my best friend less than a month ago. "Where do you want to go?" he asked at the next stop sign. In no mood for a bar or anyplace public, I directed him to a little park that overlooked the city. The park had been the number one make out site of my youth. A particular night flashed into my head of me and Aaron Fernandez kissing at a concrete picnic table in a drunken, giggly state with the Honolulu city lights as a backdrop. Aaron and I never told anyone about that night for technically, he was dating Betty at the time. Hawked parked in the tiny parking lot of the little park. A weird dizziness enveloped me as we got out of the Bronco. The dizziness quickly passed as we walked to the infamous concrete picnic table. We sat side by side at a respectable distance, with the table to our backs, the memory of the kiss with Aaron, the darkness and Hawk's closeness triggered a strong urge to touch him. On the heels of the urge came a powerful wave of raw sexual craving for the man. I closed my eyes to the city lights below us to collect myself. The night was a little cool for the islands, somewhere in the low seventies perhaps, a tiny breeze made it even cooler. Then I felt warm all over as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud. But it was after ten in the evening? How could that be? I opened my eyes to find myself bathed in sunlight and looking down at a lush river valley. Shafts of orange and red light struck the foliage covered cliff walls around me. What the fuck? I turned my head to look around but the swooning returned. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop my head from spinning. My head settled and I opened my eyes again. I was back in the hills overlooking the Honolulu city lights on a chilly picnic bench. The vision was brief but powerful—and so amazingly real! My heart raced a million miles an hour. Am I losing it? Overriding the panic of my mental state was the longing for the man sitting next to me. It was powerful, raw, not right but totally consuming. To keep from slipping into a state of panic, I said the first thing that came into my head, "You still have the box of porn you left at Betty's?" "No," he said. "That was a shit load of porn," I went on rudely persuaded the subject still reeling from my weird—hallucination? Vision? "No more than most guys," he said. "No Hawk, that was a lot of porn." He laughed. "Well maybe," he conceded. I Laughed too and the laughter seemed to sooth my mind a bit. In fact with every passing second the weird little vision lost its potency allowing my freaky desire for the guy to to take center stage. I asked, "Since we're on the subject, can I ask you about the movies?" I heard him shift in discomfort. "I'm not trying to be mean, but ever since I saw the your box of movies, I've been sort of curious as to why guys like that kind of stuff." It was more a fixation then curiosity, but I kept that to myself. "This is not the kind of thing a guy feels comfortable talking about, especially with a beautiful woman," he said. His comment took me off guard and I was glad for the dark because my face must be beat red with embarrassment—and excitement. Silence followed. Just when I was about to apologize for my rudeness of bring up the subject he spoke. "What do you want to know?" "Um ... wow ... Why facial cumshots?" "Why do guys like that kind of stuff?" Why do you like it? I really wanted to ask but didn't. Keep things general, my lizard brain warned me. Don't come across as accusing and scare him off! But my logical side just wouldn't back off and said, "You had several movies just about facial cum shots and it's plain that it turns you on." I cringed. "You saw the box, it was full of my weird fetish cravings. So break out the feminist handbook and bash away," Hawk said. So much for keeping it general! Lizard brain complained. No making out tonight! Because of the dark, I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or joking. I silently cursed my feminist indoctrination. "Sorry," I said and reached out to brush his shoulder. The feel of him made me want to ... lick him ... any part of him. I removed my hand to short circuit the urge to shoved my tongue in his ear. A little shaken by the spike of hot lust, I stupidly continued my questioning about his porn stash. "When was the first time you realized you liked the...um ... facial thing?" Oh my god you stupid cow! My lizard brain screamed. Get off the subject! "I thought you were an art major not a psych major?" he joked. Apparently incapable of changing the subject, I kept at it, "Truly, I wanna know. " He laughed. "This is all off the record and you can't use my name," he said. "Deal," I said. "Os off the record, tell me about The Best of Butt Fuckers 4?" He covered his face with his hands and moaned theatrically. "Do you own The Best of Butt Fuckers 1, 2 and 3?" I persisted. He moaned again. I laughed. "Sorry, just tell me about the facial thing." He dropped his hands from his face and spoke. "I can't believe I'm doing this. It started a few years ago when I was a grad at San Diego State. A bunch of us guys got together to drink beer and watch some porn. The porn was interesting at first, but we watched so much of it that the edge wore off and the beer became the true center of the party with the porn rolled on in the background." He stretched out his long legs and leaned back on his elbows next to me on the concrete picnic table. I kept my eyes on the city lights for it took all the willpower I had not to swing a leg over his lap, kiss his face and grind my crotch against any part of him. He continued. "At some point in the evening, I glanced at the TV and saw a freckled redhead on the screen enthusiastically going down on two guys. She was pale, pretty with long red hair and a slim figure. She reminded me of someone I knew." It reminded me of someone I knew too. Venus, the redheaded model I posed nude with for Betty's painting. I remember Hawk liking how she looked. It annoyed me how that redhead chick seems to be popping up in my life lately. Hawk continued. "The scene in the movie was an orgy and kept switching from the redhead and two other sets of couples making it. I focused on the movie anticipating the scenes with the redhead. As is the way of all porn films, the money shots started and when it got to the redhead's turn, the two guys she was blowing ejaculated on her face." A delicious tingling that started at my fingertips spread throughout my body. The degrading fetish wasn't what was turning me on. It was Hawk and the obvious sexual tautness in his voice that had me going. "Tell me in detail," I prompted, wanting to hear him speak more. With a crisp edge to his voice, he said, "One of the guys she was blowing stepped back with his erection in his hand and shot a load of semen down the middle of her freckled face from her chin, over her lips, up the left side of her nose and on to her forehead. A small pool gathered under her left eye. The guy had let loose five shots in all ... I counted. The second guy pushed into the scene and unloaded on the left side of her forehead. A lot spattered into her hair ... I liked that. The redhead laughed and looked down at the mess of fluid that had dripped onto her freckled breasts and said, 'It's everywhere,' then she gave the camera a big grin." I was impressed (and a little disturbed) by the detail he gave. Either he'd seen the movie several times after the party or he had a very keen memory. My first twinges of doubt surfaced about what I was doing with this beautiful stranger. Also, I had to sternly reminded myself, this guy was my ex-best friend's lover and she dumped him for having a huge filthy pron collection. Yet, underlining the doubt was the simple fact that Hawk turned me on. I wondered if he had an erection right now. A drunken conversation with Betty surfaced in my head. She had told me that Hawk's penis was way above average; pushing nine inches. Hawk Hunting Resisting the temptation to ask how big his penis was (and what state it was in) I asked a relatively neutral question instead. "The redhead looked like a girl you knew and that's what made it for you? You liked the familiarity?" Did you like Venus the redheaded model? is what I really wanted to ask. "Yeah, a big thing." "Is that the only thing?" "Sure. The girl appeared have fun with the act. It was probably just acting but it turned me on nonetheless." "Did you do it with Betty?" I asked. He laughed. "I saw that one coming from space," he said. "Are you asking if we had sex or if she let me come on her face?" He laughed again and not waiting for clarification, said, "Betty and I got it on pretty good and I'm going to leave it at that." Since we were on the subject of Betty again, I asked, "I've seen Betty run guys in circles and she rarely put out but she gave it all to you. How come?" "I don't know," he said. I frowned, sure that he was holding a lot back. I tried a new question. "What attracted you to her?" "She's smart, beautiful, charming." He paused, thinking something over then said, "She was Japanese. I had never been with an Asian girl before. I found that fascinating." I thought of my little conversation with Paul Gleason about white males consuming minority girls but decided to keep that to myself this time. Silently, we both looked at the city lights below. The silence stretched on too long making me regretted bring up Betty. Apparently the subject was too raw for him ... and me. You got a big mouth Japanee girl I scolded myself. I stood up from the concrete bench. "Psych 101 is over. Time to take me home," I said. On the drive back to my apartment we hardly spoke. We pulled into the parking lot of my building. Make him park! my lizard brain in charge of primitive urges yelled in my head. Shut up! My reasonable half yelled back. He's Betty's ex this would be wrong. Plus the dude could be a sexual deviant! With all that going on in my head, I guided Hawk to my assigned parking space. Since I didn't own a car, it was always available. He killed the engine. We got out and he walked me to my door one flight up. We stood at the door and looked at each other. "Good night," he said with a smile and turned to go. No way is he walking away! Lizard brain screamed. "Hawk!" I barked. He turned and I nearly knocked him over as I rushed into his arms. Since I stood at only 5'6" (a height considered tall for a female in the islands I might add) I had to tip toe to reach his mouth but he accommodated by bending his six-foot frame. I breathed in his manly scent. He put his hands on my waist and drew me close. Like a kiss in a movie, I could almost hear the orchestra kick in. But what goes unmentioned in movies is the steel hard erection that I bumped up against. Deep Purple's Smoke on the Water blared in my head for the old classic rock song seemed a better fit for the erection nestled between us. The kiss ended only because I needed to get him inside. My hands shook as I frantically fumbled with the keys to open the door. "Roommate?" Hawk asked. "At her boyfriend's tonight." I forced myself to focus to get the key in the lock. The moment we were inside, we slammed together urgently seeking the next kiss. I ended the kiss and looked into his beautiful rugged face; he had the most amazing blue eyes. The feel of his strong arms around me was indescribable. He removed my glasses and dropping them on the coffee table with a clunk. His hands found the bottom of my clingy blouse and I automatically raised my arms above my head. In one smooth move my top disappeared. He unsnapped my denim skirt and slid it down my thighs. He stepped back to look at me in my light-blue bra and panties that I had spent hours selecting. The look in Hawk's eyes proved it was time well spent. Betty had given me the underwear because she had accidentally bought it twice. I relished the delicious irony even as the sledgehammer of guilt descended. And I had to admit that a part of the evening's appeal was the wrongness fueled by ugly, oily revenge. The need to babble pointlessly bubbled in my head as we kissed. The part of my brain that still hoped to play things cool chimed in, It's not every day that you get a guy as hot as this in your clutches so keep your fucking mouth shut! Wisely, I took the advice and didn't say a thing. When the kiss ended, I moved away to turn on a few more lights and then I found my glasses and put them back on not wanting to miss a thing. As I adjusted my glasses, I turned to face Hawk standing in the middle of the living room. He stared at me so intently that it made me self-conscious. And like the Shelly character in the short story, my arms crossed in front of my bra covered breasts. "You should undress too," I said to deflect the untimely shyness. The urge to babble like an idiot still threatened so to avoid total dorkdom, I kept quiet. Hawk unbuttoned his aloha shirt, slipped it off and tossed it at me. I caught it and held it to my face inhaling his scent. I had no idea what his cologne was but it smelled expensive. Bet Betty would know, I thought. Annoyed, I brushed the thought of Betty aside. Hawk's unsnapped his jeans and when they were down to his thighs he suddenly lost his balance and fell in a sitting position on the sofa. He frantically kicked the pants off and jumped back to his feet with his hands on his hips in an obvious bad attempt at looking cool. I laughed. His antics did wonders at calming my nervousness. He wore black boxer briefs. Hawk was the first man I'd ever seen wearing boxer-briefs outside of an underwear ad. The guy should be in an underwear ad I thought. My heart ached just looking at him. His arms, legs, chest and stomach had that sweet athletic build backed up with a perfect surfer's tan. Bands of paler skin circled at mid-thigh and two inches above the elastic of his underwear marking the edges of suffer jams. Then my eyes locked on his crotch. Betty wasn't exaggerating. The bulge there was substantial. "The rest," I said pointing at his briefs expectantly. I held my breath in anticipation as his thumbs slid under the elastic of his underwear. The briefs slid down an inch but stopped. "You first," he said. With an irritated frown, I reached behind me and undid the clasp on my bra. I crossed my hands in front of me and cupped each breast holding the loose garment in place. Hawk smiled and inched down his boxer-briefs exposing more pale skin and curly reddish-blonde pubic hair. I let my bra slip to the floor but I kept my breasts covered up with my hands just above the nipples. Insecurity about my total lack of a tan descended; being a studio artist is akin to being a cave dweller. On top of that a stupid urge to giggle took hold and I did my best to convert it into a husky, sexy laugh. "Your hands appear full," he said. "Just barely," I joked, thinking of big-breasted blond surfer girls in bikinis with well-defined tans walking the beaches of the north shore. I dropped my hands, exposing my pale breasts to his sky blue eyes. "Sweet," he said. His approval sounded genuine and I relaxed a bit. Some anxiety returned though as I put my hand on my hips and slid my silky panties down. To hide my reddening face, I turned around to show him my back and hoped I appeared sexy and not the jittery nervous wreck I was. Overcome by the nervousness and unable to control it any more, I started running at the mouth. "I've been told that I have a great ass and that it's my best feature," I said with my back to him. "A guy once told me that he liked my ass so much that it was worth pissing me off just to watch me walk away." I cringed and hoped he didn't think I was a total dork. I turned around and his eyes instantly focused on the black triangle of hair between my legs. Just in case, I had bikini trimmed for tonight not wanting to give the guy another dose of Bozo the Clown bush. The guy's beauty easily trumped my nervousness. I stepped toward him, dropped to my knees before him, gripped the cloth of his briefs at the hips and slid the underwear down springing his sizable erection free. "Fucking wow," I whispered, as cool as a street mime in suspenders. With hands shaky from a spike of adrenaline, I encircled his shaft unable to recall the last man I touched so intimately. The pale head and an inch of the shaft poked out at the end of both my fists. This was positively the first man I've held with both hands and not come close to covering all of him. I slackened the hand nearest the base and gently brushed the patch of blond pubic hair that turned reddish gold as it got closer to the base of the shaft. I cradled the length admiring the slight graceful upward curve. The shaft was a light, fleshy pink, with a web of veins just under the skin. With the flat of my palm, I pushed the stiff length against his stomach to view his balls that hung asymmetrically, the left one noticeably lower. Still holding the length against his stomach, I traced a prominent vein along the shaft with a finger. His erection twitched under my hand. I looked up and saw how intently he watched my exploration. He must think I'm a freak I thought. I sat back on my legs allowing his stiffness to drop free. An intense tingling in my fingertips and toes kicked in. For one scary moment I thought I was going to pass out but thankfully the feeling abated. "Since you're down there?" he said casually. I gripped his hovering erection in both of my hands again and eyed the circumcised head. He's not shy about what he wants, I thought. He could be a total freak my logical side said. Too late! She's listening to me now! Lizard brain chimed in. Suck his balls Japanee girl! Ignoring logic and giving in to lizard, I pushed his penis against his stomach and gently took his balls into my warm mouth, soaking both liberally using lots of tongue. He made a noise from deep in his chest that sounded like a growl causing a fresh wave of the tingles to wash over me. I was so turned on that if he started playing the bagpipes and doing a jig and I would still think he was the sexiest living thing on the planet. A 'Scrubs' moment flashed in my head as I envisioned Hawk playing the bagpipes fully naked with an erection. With both his balls in my mouth, I laughed. "What?" he asked. I freed my mouth. "I was just wondering if you played the bagpipes." "What?" he asked again this time with a small, bewildered laugh. "Never mind," I said and put my mouth to better use by engulfing the head of his erection. After a few seconds I released him with an audible pop, which made me giggle. He pulled me to my feet and since he was so close, I removed my glasses and carelessly dropped them on the coffee table again. As I stroked his saliva-slicked shaft and kneaded his balls, he tenderly touched my breasts. I gasped as he brushed over my stiff nipples. One of his hands slid around my ribcage to my back and followed my spine down to my ass. He covered my mouth with a soft, sweet kiss as the hand at my breasts drifted down to my soaked opening. The kiss muffled my exclamation of pleasure. His deft fingers kept at my clitoris and the other hand repeatedly traced the divide of my ass. In a pleasurable panic, I broke the kiss and stepped away from him, if I hadn't I would have come right there and then. "Put your glasses back on," he said. Surprised at the unexpected request, I fetch them, put them on and blinked dramatically. "Do that again," he said. I removed my glasses, put them back on and blinked my eyes again. "No, move. I want to watch you walk around naked." With a frown and a bemused smile, I walked into my tiny kitchen. On impulse, I opened the refrigerator door. The rush of cold air on my exposed skin felt interesting and thrilling. "Want a beer?" I asked over the door. I pulled out two beers and held both in one hand then opened the freezer to retrieve a pair of chilled mugs. My roommate Nora always kept chilled mugs on hand. With my hands full, I turned to face Hawk but he was gone. "Hey where did you go?" I asked a little shocked at his sudden disappearance. The stupid part of me thought that this had all been a wet dream and I never had a blond surfer demigod in my apartment. He stepped from the hallway leading to the bedrooms, his erection bobbing comically. "Your room door was open." he said. "I saw the seascape above your bed. That's in Kaaava right" "Yes, glad you can tell," I said relieved that he was real. "That was my last representational painting before going totally abstract. It's yours if you want it." "You can't just give me a painting," he said genuinely surprised. "Yes I can." He stepped up to me and pressed me against the fridge causing a few decorative magnets to fall to the floor. A hand slipped between my legs and his warm mouth covered mine. I made a sound as I desperately hung on to the two beer mugs in one hand and the two bottles of beer in the other. Then just as suddenly, he stopped the kiss. Breathing hard I looked up into his eyes and said, "I'm giving away art more often." "You said something about beer?" he asked. I slid passed him and went into the kitchen to put the mugs and beers down. Like the lusty, naked barmaid I was, I poured both beers with just enough head for flavor. The temptation to speak in a stupid German accent occurred to me but fortunately I abstained. "Walk around," he said after a sip of ice-cold beer. Armed with my mug of beer, I walked to the front door then back again trying to be casual but how casual can a girl be when walking naked with a frosty mug of beer and being watched by a man with Hollywood good looks? I rested my beer on an end table, got a magazine from the coffee table, stood with one hand on my hip and pretend to read. "You like strippers?" I asked with my eyes on the magazine page. "Maybe, but I find most strip clubs depressing," he said. He put down his beer and walked toward me. I peeped at him over the top of the magazine watching his erection bob hypnotically with each step. Standing before me, he pushing the magazine aside, cupped a breast and tenderly kissed me. At the other end of the kiss I asked the most stupid question. "Did you do this kind of thing with Betty?" His expression went neutral and I immediately regretted bring Betty up. Yeah real smart. Bring up his ex-lover as he's squeezing your little tits. Idiot! "Sure, she would walk around naked and let me watch," Hawk said. He pulled free of my arms and walked to the sofa. I liked watching his tight pale ass as he walked away. I particularly liked the way his erection rested against his stomach when he sat. No more bringing up Betty I promised myself. Carelessly tossing the magazine over my shoulder, I walked toward the sofa. Hawk's eyes sparkled with lust as I approached. I dropped to my knees between his legs, grasped his cock with both my hands (still impressed that I could do that and not cover all of him) and guided the head into my mouth. As I lustily worked him with my mouth and hands he asked a question around gasps and sharp intakes of breath. "Why did you come looking for me?" I released his wet cock from my busy mouth. "There should be some sort of protocol about being questioned while giving head. It's rude, please respect the act." I burst into giggles, which made Hawk laugh too thus making me giggle even more. When I regained some decorum, I told him the whole story, from Betty's books to the discovery of the porno stash to my stalking him in alternative American history class. I told him about dropping in at Pua'a Video and the movie I never saw (I had returned it in the drop box the next day) and how that led to reading Shelly's New Dance. On a confessional run, I even told him about my bizarre viewing of Peter North clips on the web. All through the telling, I sat between his legs with a firm grip on his hard member and couldn't help but notice how he twitched in in my hands at key points. His penis did a spasmodic dance when I got to the part about the failed simulated facial. "You simulated a Peter North Facial cumshot?" he asked incredulously. "We chicks do that all the time," I lied casually. "Really, then why—" he started to say but I cut him off. "Enough talk." I stood. I pulled him to his feet and took him to my bedroom. We shared a hot kiss at the foot of my bed. After the kiss I went to my bedside drawer, frantically dug around, found a condom, dropped to my knees and applied the thing to his stiff erection. When the deed was done, I lowered myself backwards onto my bed and pulled him down on top of me. After a frantic perfunctory kiss, Hawk guided his erection to my wet opening. We locked eyes as he slowly entered me. It had been a while, and the guy was big so I flinched as he inched his way in. After taking all of him in, we kissed with laser focus, neither of us moving a muscle. As the kiss progressed, he started to roll his hips slowly and gently. The kiss ended and he fixed his amazing blue eyes on my eyes. A hitching gasp escaped me as he pushed with a deep slow plunge. Pain and pleasure mixed creating an intoxicating need. Looking into his starling blue eyes I asked in a hitching voice, ""You like that I'm a Japanese girl?" He nodded. I gasped then asked, "You like my long dark hair and slim body, my small tits, my ass?" "Yeah...all...that," he said with a harsh breath between each word. His gentle movements gave way to a faster rhythm. There was no hint of pain now, only need and laser hot pleasure. All too soon, my orgasm rushing at me. I tried to will it away, to make the moment last, but lizard brain was in control and she didn't wait for anything. Just as I was about to tell him to hold it in deep, he stopped plunging and did just that—held himself still and deep in me. Beyond reason or logic, I said it anyway, "Hold in deep don't move!" Then blurted out the obvious," "Oh, shit I'm coming!" I quivered and twisted under him. When I regained voluntary control of my body, I locked on his beautiful, blue eyes. He started moving again just when I wanted him to. Unbelievably, I found myself rushing to the edge of a second orgasm. and with sweet urgency I coaxed him to move faster and harder. Like a person possessed, I met every one of his plunges with an upward thrust of my hips "Fuck me, make me come," I said, loving the sound of the words. "Beg me," he said as his plunges increased in force and frequency. "I thought I was?" I said urgently. "Tell me you're Japanese!" he said just as pressingly. "Let me know I'm fucking a Japanese girl!" "Really? Okay! Fuck this Japanese girl, make me come!" Hawk's slapping thrusts were the only sensations outside my body that got through to my brain. My second orgasm hit. The world dimmed and bright white stars sparkled across Hawk's sweaty, handsome face. I stupidly wondered if I could translate this moment into a painting. His orgasm arrived and he dropped down for a hard aggressive kiss. And in the middle of the kiss, I came again. The kiss and my bonus orgasm wound down at the same time. He pulled out of me and roll onto his back staring at the ceiling, our breathing synced. "Wow," was the only word I could find to sum up my feelings at the moment. I rolled onto my side, cuddled up, and rested my head on his chest. For a few seconds I looked at his shinny, wet, covered semi-erect penis sprawled across abdomen. With my free hand, I gently peeled the condom off him and stroked his wet, pretty penis. Since neither of us smoked, we raided the fridge and feasted on cold pizza, green olives, orange sherbert ice cream and beer. After our afterglow meal we took a decadent shower punctuated with mutual soaping, giggling, kissing and fondling. Soon the guy was rock hard again.