3 comments/ 16357 views/ 1 favorites Saving the World By: wordmaster From the ocean, the island was a strip of white beach set against the green mountains set against the perfect blue sky. The colors pulsated in the bright sun, and Lori felt the thrill that must have passed through those European sailors who first espied Tahiti. She supposed that some of them must have thought they had found the Garden of Eden. The lush vegetation, the warm water, an almost perfect climate, she didn't doubt that some considered the island heaven on earth. Toss in the fact that the natives were gorgeous and wore next to nothing, and those randy tars would have licked their lips and swarmed the island. She could only guess their level of excitement. Months at sea and chancing upon a jungle paradise inhabited by almond skinned women with little guile. It wasn't heaven. It was better than heaven. It was a dream. Tahiti had been her dream since she was a teenager. She had never been sure why. Perhaps the name spoke to her, perhaps the French influence. Perhaps, the carefree island persona tantalized her streak of independence. Whatever the reason, she had managed to save enough money for a vacation to the island. The hours on the plane had been small sacrifice. As she gazed at the island, she felt a renewed sense of adventure. Tahiti lured for a reason. She was certain of that. Some part of her destiny meshed with the island, some facet of her soul. That perfect blend of water, sand, jungle, and sky sang like a siren. Something waited for her, something big. With a smile, she started the waverunner. The view was breathtaking, but the island promised more. If she wanted to learn the secret, she would have to explore. Spray hissed off the bottom of the waverunner, across her skin, cooling her. As she shot toward the beach, she wondered what special mystery awaited. An attraction of Tahiti was the warmth. The bright sun and trade winds allowed her to wear her bikini all over the island. A wraparound skirt, some sandals, a floppy hat to ward off the sun, and sunglasses, and she could go anywhere. The weather freed her from the heavy clothes she wore in Chicago where the weather always seemed too hot or too cold. She either froze or sweltered, so the moderate weather tasted even more delicious. She was wearing a bright skirt as she turned off the main street and into a smaller way. She held the notion that real adventure, the real Tahiti lay off the tourist paths. Let the fair-skinned people from the luxury liners ply the main drags. They would sample the tepid fare of the visitor, which was not for Lori. She wanted something different, something wild. That wildness wouldn't wave to her from a window on main street. That wildness would prowl the narrow byways, the shaded places most tourists never encountered. Real life existed amidst the natives. Real life cackled in smoky kitchens and drank in dimly lit bars. Every city, even Chicago hid its core essence. Lake Shore Drive lured in money and gawkers, but the pulse of Chicago could be felt in the taverns and neighborhood hangouts. Life began and ended far away from the bright lights. So, she pushed up the hill, higher into the underbelly of the city, away from the resorts. As the street wound, she smiled and wondered what she might find. Several men called to her as she passed an open bar, but she paid no mind. She paid no attention. That bar was not the place. She didn't know how she knew that, but she knew. She would not find what she wanted in that bar or in the café she passed either. Not in the little shops or groceries. Not in the small houses. No, she searched for some place special. She turned a corner and stopped. The sign hung over a door across the street. The open palm, faded from years in sun and rain, beckoned her. The symbol was universal enough. A fortuneteller plied the trade behind the door, someone to predict the future. Lori knew that she looked at the destination of her quest. A forgotten gypsy far from the crowd seemed more than fitting. It seemed right. Adjusting her hat, she crossed the street, knocked once, and entered. At first, she saw nothing. After the brightness of the street, the dim light revealed no details. She removed her glasses and waited, afraid to push forward. She had no idea what awaited, and she didn't want to blunder into something. So, she stood like a statue, expecting someone to greet her. No one did. As the details of the room emerged from the dark, she wondered if anyone was home. "Hello," she called. No one answered. She was tempted to turn around and leave, and maybe she would have if she hadn't seen a sort of glow in the next room. A bead curtain separated the rooms, but she saw something. Back home in Chicago, she would have abandoned this shop. In Tahiti, the glow seemed more lure than a threat. She pushed ahead, somehow sure that what she sought crouched behind the bead curtain. The beads parted with a clicking sound, announcing her. As dark as the room she had left and smaller, a small round table and two chairs were the only furniture. No windows, no doors, blank, dark walls. No glow. What had she seen? No people. A dead end. She turned to leave and heard him. "Please sit." She whirled, and there he was. Incredible. One moment, the room was empty, and the next, she faced a tall man whose age she could only guess. Where had he come from? No doors, no windows, had he been hiding under the table? She would have sworn that he wasn't there when she walked in, and that fact both scared and teased her. Only magicians appeared out of thin air. "You came for a reading," he added. "Please sit." Lori hesitated a moment before she moved forward. What did she have to lose beside a few minutes and a few dollars? This fake was like the fake in Chicago or New York or anywhere. He would spout a few cliched assurances of future love or future fame or future riches, and she would feel thrilled for a moment, until she realized that the words were merely words. He knew no more about the future than she did. Hard wooden chair, hard table, she watched him sit. He was handsome with dark hair and eyes. She guessed him around 40, but she couldn't be sure in the dim light. Yet, there seemed a kind of energy around him, almost a heat. The notion struck her as odd until he reached out. She placed her palm in his, and she felt the heat. His skin felt warmer than normal, as if he had been wearing gloves. The feeling reassured her even as she noted the oddness. Wasn't there a saying about warm hands? "Before I read," he began. "Oh, I'm sorry." She reached for her handbag. "How much?" He shook his head. "It is my curse to charge only what the seeing is worth. You decide." "But—" "Before I read, I must warn you. Knowledge is both powerful and dangerous. Sometimes, it is disturbing. That you may not like it renders it no less true. Should I continue?" His solemn tone and face gave her pause—until she realized that it was part of the show, the act, sort of a don't-try-this-at-home disclaimer on at TV show. "Of course," she answered. With a knowing smile, he pulled her hand closer and gazed into her palm. Then, he began to shake. She couldn't see his face clearly, so she had no idea what upset him, but she felt his hand shake. She saw his head shake, his whole body begin to shiver, as if he had met some mammoth terror. "Kona Sika," he said. "What?" she asked. "Kona Sika," he repeated. "You have returned." He looked into her eyes, and she felt as if he were trying to see into her brain. "You have returned." "I've never been here before." He held her hand. He shivered, shaking despite the heat. "You have returned that the cycle may be completed. The ancient texts predicted this day, but I never... You must come with me." He stood, not releasing her hand. "I'm not going anywhere with you," she said. "But you must." "I don't have to must anything." He stared a moment before he dropped her hand and sat. "Forgive me. I forget. You are unaware. You do not know yourself." "I know myself well enough, and I don't think I like where this is going." She stood. "Please, please do not leave. I will explain. Please." His face was sincere, and his voice pleaded, and Lori had no real reason not to listen. She sat, crossed her arms, and waited. "Kona Sika is the goddess of light," he began. "She set the sun in motion, and as legend says, she returns every thousand years to renew the light." He spoke quickly and earnestly, and the legend unfolded before her. Kona Sika was one of a pantheon of gods and goddesses sacred to the island and its people. In the beginning, the pantheon looked out upon the universe and decided to create a new world. They joined together and made the earth, the sun, the stars, the wind, the ocean, and the animals. They made all things. But they did not make them forever. Every thousand years, the pantheon came together to renew the contract with the heavens. She was expected and needed. The others had already arrived. If she would join them in the ceremony, the island and the world would be saved from destruction. The myth sounded familiar, the invention of people who looked upon their world and supposed the gods had made it from whole cloth. Forget evolution or the big bang, the explanation involved only the nature at hand. Abstractions be damned. Yet, she had never been likened to a goddess before. Oh, with brown hair and sea green eyes and a nice smile she had had her share of compliments, but no one had mistaken her for the goddess of light. "What kind of ceremony?" she asked. He smiled. The ceremony could not be described in detail as it happened once every thousand years. Yet, the myth decreed that the pantheon would renew the contract with the heavens. The others who had arrived earlier had already moved up the mountain to prepare. She was the last, and the most important, for without light nothing could exist. He stood and held out his hand. "Join us?" The ceremony sounded exactly what she had been searching for, something not orchestrated for tourists, something authentic. "Why not?" She took his hand, and he led her out of the room, out the front door, under the weathered sign of the palm, and into the street. He didn't speak. At the end of the street, they turned into a narrower street that soon became a path leading into the leafy jungle. As they entered the jungle and started climbing the mountain, he began to chant. Lori knew it wasn't French or English. She supposed it was the ancient language of the island, prayers lost in antiquity. It occurred to her then that she didn't even know her guide's name. Did that matter? Not really, and she wasn't about to interrupt the chanting to ask. He was leading to a unique adventure, and for that she was grateful enough. Her heart raced. What a story to take back to Chicago. Despite the shady path, the steep going proved hard, and she was thankful she wasn't wearing layers of clothes. Without wind, perspiration coated her skin. For the first time, she wondered if she had made the best decision. The chanting continued as she considered her plight. She was following a native she didn't know to a destination she had no inkling of. She was a single, American woman without so much as a traveling companion. If she disappeared in the jungles of Tahiti, no one would even know to look. She wouldn't be missed for a week—the day she was due back in Chicago. Her vulnerability weighed on her. In fact, she had never felt so vulnerable. What was she doing? Having an adventure. Allowing herself to be vulnerable. Trusting someone in a way she had never trusted before. Growing, she was growing. The chanting allayed her fear, promising something wildly different. Was that enough? They emerged from the jungle into a clearing. In the middle, stood a small hut with single entrance. He led her to the hut, held aside the red curtain, and she entered, half expecting the hut to be full of people, those involved in the ceremony and spectators. The hut was empty. Fear leaped from the back row of the bleachers in her mind, directly to center stage. She was alone with a stranger in a jungle hut, far from anything, far from anyone. If she screamed, she doubted anyone would hear. As she faced him, she steeled herself for the attack. She wouldn't succumb without a fight. "Please," he said. "Sit while I prepare the others." She noticed a pile of blankets on top the rush floor. "Please," he repeated. "It will be a few minutes." She sank to the blankets. If she didn't like how things looked, she would sneak out and down the path they had used. Without him guarding the door, she could get away. "I will return," he said and left. She pushed her handbag behind her and looked around a hut that fit the image in her mind. Native material, small, round, dark except for the light filtering through the walls and the smoke hole in the ceiling. The hut smelled of smoke and something sweet, incense? She supposed the local flora provided a plant that produced a pleasant smell when burned. Native people discovered all manner of things over time. The curtain parted, and her guide entered. He carried a canteen which he offered her. "The climb was hot," he said. "This will refresh you." She hesitated. Someone had once warned her to never accept anything she hadn't fixed herself. "Water," he added. "And some sweetness." His smile seemed genuine enough, and she was thirsty. She accepted the canteen. He watched her sip, and when she smiled, he left again. The liquid was water—and a bit of sweetness. She couldn't identify the taste. She supposed it some sort of native sugar. Whatever it was, it met both her need for water and her desire for something exotic. She leaned against the wall, sipped, and decided this would be a terrific story to tell at dinner parties. Yes, she had been to Tahiti, and she hadn't confined herself to the usual tourist traps. She had been part of an ancient ceremony. She had been Kona Sika! She laughed out loud. Her buddies at the tennis club would be sooooo jealous. She closed her eyes to imagine their reactions. And she slept. How long she slept, she had no idea. When she woke, no direct sunlight filtered into the hut. Night had not fallen, but she supposed the afternoon had waned. How had that happened? Had he drugged her? She checked her handbag. It was exactly where she had left it. The canteen was still there, and she hadn't been touched in any fashion. She had merely slept. And she had needed the sleep, for she felt refreshed, energetic. Where was her guide? What had happened to the ceremony? Had it all been a ploy, some kind of game? She stretched her legs and started to rise as the curtain parted. Into the hut came her guide—but not her guide. The man who leaped into the hut wore a grass skirt and carried a drum. His skin bore a number of circles and triangles and symbols unfamiliar to her. His face was painted blue and he fell to his knees in front of her. Chanting that same alien language, he bowed before the moved to one side. Sitting cross-legged, he began to beat the drum. She assumed the ceremony had begun. But where were the spectators, the chorus, the validators of the spectacle? As the drumbeat penetrated her skin, she wondered when the others would arrive. "Kon Haki!" he called loudly, and added, she supposed for her benefit, "God of wind." Through the curtain came another man, and this man wore—nothing. The shock of seeing a naked man fall to his knees in front of her kept her from averting her eyes. His body was painted with symbols, wavy lines mostly. She supposed the lines represented wind, but she couldn't know. She was more struck by his youth and strength, for he looked in his twenties, well-muscled, virile. He bowed to her, jumped to his feet, and began a dance, some native thing that both pleased and tantalized her. She couldn't take her eyes off him. "Kon Biki!" the drummer called. "God of fire." A second naked man leaped into the tent and fell to his knees in front of her. Same age and build as the first man, Kon Biki's skin bore red tongues and lines, like fire licking at him. He bowed, spoke an ancient greeting and joined the god of wind in the dance. Two naked men cavorting around the hut seemed more than she could handle, and yet somehow it seemed right. This was the thousand-year renewal. The ceremony demanded something outrageous. "Kon Moki! God of earthquakes." The third naked man seemed a clone of the first two. Skin bearing brown and yellow earth tones, he fell to his knees, greeted her, and joined the other two gods. In the fading light, the three naked men weaving their dance in front of her seemed surreal. They moved about without tripping each other, without getting in the way, with a blend of color and motion that spoke to her. She supposed much of the movements resembled the familiar gyrations of any club in Chicago, but at the same time the movements were different and new. And yet not new. Somehow, she felt as if she had seen this dance before, witnessed this ceremony. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind the dance struck a chord, a harmonic convergence. Maybe she hadn't seen it before, but the movements spoke to her, called to her. Perhaps it was a universal summons, something that would appeal to all. She didn't know. All she did know was that the dance seemed part of her life, her destiny. Which was why she joined the dance. Actually, Kon Haki pulled her into the dance. He placed her in the center of the hut while the three men danced around her. The rhythm of the drum infected her. She found herself swaying to the beat. She felt alive and ethereal, lost in a tribal rite. As the heat rose inside the hut, she felt her body come alive. How could a drum do that? Before she could answer, the gods changed the dance. They moved closer, writhing around her, their bodies slick with paint and sweat, their smell filling her. She wanted to reach out and touch them, but she didn't dare. Although she felt part of the rite, she was still the interloper, the person from off island. She couldn't presume to know the proper response. But she didn't have to worry. Because they began to touch her. Kon Haki started with her hair. Kon Riki touched her arms. Kon Moki touched her back. Six hands ran lightly over her, barely touching, according to some pattern she could barely discern. She had the idea the movements were stylized, practiced, and yet they seemed almost random. It was incredible, but she could feel all thirty fingers, each sworl of each fingertip, every bit of skin that touched her. As if hypersensitive, every stroke and touch was amplified a hundredfold. It was as if something had thinned her skin, bringing her nerve endings closer to the surface. The feeling went beyond exquisite, it was sublime. She closed her eyes to savor the sensation, and they began to strip her. Her eyes popped open. She looked at three men whose hands moved so quickly, so effortlessly. Her bra unsnapped. Her skirt knot unraveled. Fingers ran along the waist of her bikini bottom. She used one hand to hold up her bra, the other to keep her bottom in place, and the three gods stopped, completely stopped. As if robots unable to cope with a change in the rite, they stood absolutely still, staring, waiting. Alive one moment, inert the next. She turned to the drummer, her guide. Her face must have shown her concern, for he smiled. Although he said nothing, she swore she heard his voice inside her head. "It is the way, Kona Sika. Do not be afraid. It is what you desire and what they will provide." His voice, the words, somehow they soothed her, reassured her. He was right. This was what she desired. This was the reason Tahiti sang to her, lured her with its charm. This was her destiny, and although she possessed the will to deny it, she didn't want to. She had flown thousands of miles for this. To quit now might doom creation. Saving the World She dropped her arms. The gods came alive. As if reanimated, they stripped her. Bra, bottom, jewelry, shoes, everything, until she stood completely naked among them. She could feel perspiration on her skin, feel their hands, their breath. The dance continued, the rite. Their hands roamed, felt, caressed. With the precision of ballet, they felt her, all of her. From ankle to calf to thigh to buttock to rib to breast to chin to forehead, their hands roamed her, warmed her, excited her. She had never been with more than one man at a time, and the sheer volume of touches and strokes almost overwhelmed her ability to process the information. As soon as she focused on the fingers on her nipple, other fingers rubbed her bottom or flitted across her tummy or lingered down her inner thigh. It wasn't an arithmetic multiplication of six hands, it was a geometric progression where each touch seemed multiplied over and over. More, the precise movements reached her most sensitive spots, the places that responded tenfold. She felt that somehow these gods had mapped her body, her skin, marking the places where her blood flowed closest to the surface, where their touch warmed her in untold ways. They used the map to excite her, to stroke her, to transform the rite into something more. That she liked the touches didn't surprise her, that she craved them did. For every touch sent a message to her brain. Every feel and squeeze echoed along her nervous system. The constant stimulation wasn't merely pleasant, it was addictive. The more she received, the more she wanted. She felt like a junkie, someone hooked on a narcotic, only her obsession was three gods who sought nothing more than to stimulate her beyond her ability to resist. It was that simple. They worked her body so that she felt a yearning so deep she would succumb to the desire. That certain knowledge filled her head, and even as the thought lingered, she didn't care. The stimulation shouted down thought. The touches rolled into her brain like the incoming tide, drowning all reason. Logic was overwhelmed by passion. The more she was caressed, the more she wanted caressing. Her heart pounded, and her skin perspired, and her nipples hardened, and the gods danced, feeling, stroking, touching. Until one spread the blankets, and they pulled her to the floor. The drum seemed louder. Someone lit a torch. The gods knelt beside her. From somewhere, they produced pots of oil that they began to smear on her. Only, the oil wasn't like anything she had ever felt before. Warmed by their hands, the oil sheened under the firelight. Her skin glowed and warmed. More, the oil seemed laced with some essence, some spice that stimulated her skin. She felt as if she wore a thin coating of tiny pins that pricked her skin constantly. Not an irritation, not a pain, more of a rub or pumice, something that didn't allow her nerves to settle, that fired them constantly. The feeling was new for her. She couldn't place the scent, but she thought it was cinnamon for the skin, a kind of burning. Not really burning. More like a glow, an aura. As they applied oil all over, she had the notion that she glowed with some phosphorescent light, like those fish in the ocean whose light pulsed beneath the waves. The gods were persistent and thorough, coating every pore, until her body tingled everywhere. Firelight played over her, and her being danced in a way she had never known before. For the first time she noticed that the gods were aroused. A naked man with an erection had always excited Lori. Like many women, she wasn't always willing to admit it, but it was fact. She supposed the reaction had something to do with the survival of the species. An erection meant the male was ready to mate, and if it helped ready the female, well, it didn't take a Phi Beta Kappa to figure out the advantage. So, the erections of the three gods excited her core and assuaged her ego. All three found her attractive enough to raise them despite the energy they poured into dancing and touching. She supposed most women wanted to appear desirable, and there was no surer proof than that unmistakable arousal. God, the sight of them took away her breath. They were...magnificent. She reached out and grabbed Moki. It pulsed in her hand. It throbbed. She felt his heart, the pounding, the desire. He wanted her in a way she had never suspected. This was part of the rite, part of the ceremony, the renewal of the universe. In order to fuel the world for the next 1,000 years she would have sex with the gods. Her tingling skin, her pounding heart, the need in her core, they were matched by the gods who served the myth. Unless they joined, the world could not endure. Her role included coupling with fire and wind and earthquake. Together, they would keep the earth spinning through another millennium. As if reading her mind, Moki moved forward between her legs. She drew him to her, to that part of her that proved far more moist than she first supposed. As she guided him inside her and gasped at the size, the other gods began to lick her breasts, suck her nipples. She reached out and grabbed their erections. The feel of them shot energy into her, as if she had taken hold of battery terminals. Her body completed the connection and allowed their energy to flow into her. Her hips arched as Moki stroked, deep, long strokes. He was smooth and powerful and the energy flowed, and the drum beat. She pulled one god to her mouth and licked his shaft. And suddenly it dawned on her. They were to serve her. Wait, her mind told her. That couldn't be. No, the truth remained. They would do her bidding. She was in control. They would do anything and everything she wanted. Fire, wind, and earthquake served the light, and she was the light. As she moved in unison with earthquake, she pulled fire into her mouth and began to suck, savoring him, savoring the heartbeat. It seemed impossible, but the gods seemed as one, hearts beating at exactly the same rate. Her mouth and hand and body felt the same throb, the same pulsation. It was incredible, and more exciting than anything she had ever experienced. She took the shaft in her mouth deeper, while she met the strokes from Moki, while she stroked the third with her hand. The lips on her nipples and skin left trails of fire, as if the spice in the oil reacted to the saliva, causing a burning sensation. As one trail faded, another trail started, and she could trace the symbols their tongues drew by the glow on her skin. Her hips met his stroke. Her mouth sucked that shaft. Her hand squeezed and jerked. The drum beat faster. Moki stroked faster in rhythm with the drum. She found herself using her mouth to match the beat. Her hand picked up the rhythm automatically. The symbols and lines on her skin burned hotter, and she wondered if they actually glowed. Their bodies were slick with oil and paint and perspiration. She felt an excitement she had never before known. The drum beat faster. Moki matched the beat. She matched the beat. Harder, faster, it wasn't love. It was sex, incredible sex, sex to save the universe. Her lips and hand and hips moved as one, and she had the feeling they were all one somehow, connected by the drum and spice and oil. She hadn't come to Tahiti with this in mind, but now that she was here, she found it beyond her imagination. And then, Moki exploded. With an incredibly hard thrust, he buried himself in her, and holding her hips, he emptied into her. She stopped and waited, focusing her energy on those small muscles that grabbed his shaft and milked it, drawing from it all his essence, all the seed that would fertilize the cosmos. She could feel his hot ejection inside her, feel it as she had never felt it before, until he was drained. He pulled himself out, and she began to breathe again. Biki replaced Moki between her legs. As he slipped inside her, she gasped afresh. Biki, although, not exactly like Moki, fit every bit as well. As he stroked in time with the drum, she felt her level of excitement rise. He moved with even more strength and need. She pulled Haki to her mouth as Moki sucked her nipples and licked her skin, leaving those magical Polynesian symbols of fire. The drum beat faster. Her heart and mouth matched. Biki thrust at speed, his shaft sinking in and out, stimulating every inch of her. She sucked Haki deeper into her mouth, tasting him, feeling him. His taste was different from Biki, sweeter somehow. Her heart pounded. Her hips matched Biki's rhythm. The energy of the connection seemed to grow, like a dynamo revving faster. The firelight danced, and the symbols on her skin came alive. She took the erection in her mouth deeper yet, savoring it, wanting it in a way she had never wanted any man. But this was no man, this was a god, and she was a goddess, and she was saving the world. Biki exploded. He rammed so deep inside, she thought he might poke through. He held her hips and pumped, huge streams of heat filling her. She allowed her body to clamp on him and constrict, pulling from him all the heat. It was like a hose, a kind of pulsating hose that shot gobs of fire into her. The feeling was unique, perfect in some sense, and her own reaction was different from anything she had ever experienced. Her hungry body drained him, holding tighter than she had ever held before. She supposed a goddess reacted this way. Haki replaced Biki. Haki pushed inside her, and again she felt both a newness and a sameness. The gods all seemed to fit perfectly, and yet they were not the same. As Haki pushed and stroked, she matched him, her excitement rising to a new plateau. He hammered her in rhythm with the drum. Biki and Moki touched and licked, and her skin suddenly felt crowded with symbols, with the wizardry of the rite. Firelight cast incredible shadows. Her body burned. Every inch of her tingled and the shaft pounding in and out seemed magical in itself. The drum beat faster. Haki matched the speed, a fever speed, thrusting, pushing. She gasped, her heart racing, her hips meeting his. The other gods stimulated her skin, hands moving with incredible speed, lips and tongue tracing glowing figures. She was reminded of a steam engine, a locomotive with the pistons driving in and out, faster and faster, harder and harder. She panted. The gods panted. Her heart pounded in her chest. Haki stimulated her again and again. The drum beat faster. They matched the beat. She felt in the middle of some race, a sprint. Haki pushed and the others stroked, and she felt like the train was out of control. Yet, the excitement drowned any fear. She had found a level never before imagined, never before dreamed of. She had no idea her body could react this way, that her heart could beat so fast, that she could enjoy this so much. More than surprise, the feeling was incredulity. She didn't think her response was possible. She had reached the point where she thought her heart would burst inside her chest, where her mind might explode with sensory overload. She walked the glowing knife edge of life, and she loved it. The drum stopped. Haki exploded. She had thought Biki went deep. Haki went deeper, farther. He grabbed her tush and held and locked and jetted pure lava. For the third time her body tightened. This time it contracted faster, harder. A small scream escaped her lips as she squeezed harder than she had ever squeezed in her life. It was as her body was out of control, grasping like a hand, clamping tighter and tighter. Haki moaned as he emptied, as she extracted everything. She had become a kind of extruder, compressing him until every last drop had been forced out. Tighter than any key in any lock, she held him, relishing the feeling, loving the heat. Then, it ended. Haki pulled out. Moki and Biki pulled back. She lay on the blankets, her skin on fire, her body filled with steam. Firelight subsided. One by one, the gods stood, bowed, and left. Her guide was the last to leave. He smiled and walked out. He came back immediately with another canteen. Water, this time. No sweetness. She drank greedily. She remained on the blankets until her heartbeat had returned to normal, until her skin no longer tingled or burned. Then, she dressed, and strangely, she did not feel sore. She felt drained but not sore. That seemed impossible. She had had sex with three men. She had to be...but she wasn't. As soon as she had dressed, her guide returned. With a smile, he led her into the night. The air was cool and the stars bright. How long had she been in the hut? She had no idea. She stopped on the edge of the clearing to look at the stars. The night was velvet beauty. "It is beautiful, no?" her guide asked. "What happened?" she asked. "Kona Sika gave the world another thousand years of life." "I did, didn't I?" With a smile, she followed him into the jungle. As they moved through the dark, she knew this was a Tahitian adventure she would never share. Saving The World Porn Review #1 Since I seem to have sufficient free time and a steady access to pornographic material, I have taken it upon myself to save the world from bad porn! How am I going to do that you ask? By watching lots of porn, jerking it a few times to clear my head, and then give it either my thumbs up or thumbs down. My system of review will be fairly simple. I will provide you with the name of the DVD and who released it. I'll then give you a very brief description of the film along with some pros and cons. Then I'll summarize by giving it one of my four ratings: Avoid: This movie isn't worth getting. Rent: Worth seeing once Rent, then buy: You might want to buy it but you should check it out first. Buy: This film is worth buying. Oh yes, before I forget I should point out the obvious. While later editions of my reviews will have a lot more variety, this first edition is the ALL DICK edition. Each video is either gay or shemale based porn. With that established, let's begin! Boys wanna play by Manpower productions The first word that jumps to mind after viewing this movie is "lame." The video has a plot, but it fails to do much with it. In fact, the plot is so poorly thought out and executed that it actually subtracted from the overall quality of the film. Once you shoot your first load you'll find it hard to keep watching the video long enough to get hard again. They also make horribly cliché references through out the film. pros: -Some of the actors were fairly attractive. -Lots of sex cons: -Lame plot makes you want to fast forward when ever the characters start to talk or simply turn off the DVD. Favorite scene: None My rating: Avoid Shemale cock party by Maverick There is not a lot of plot to this movie, although that's not a bad thing on this DVD. There are about a dozen different scenes, each of which could stand on its own merits. pros: -A variety of different scenes. If you like shemale porn in general, you'll likely find at least one scene you like on this DVD. -Attractive stars. No one seems out of place or seems not the fit the scene. -Four hours long. Since the scenes are pretty good, being this long is a plus. cons: -Sound is somewhat questionable. Favorite scene: The scene where the shemale imagines her dildo was a real man. That's kind of like a perverted Pinocchio in a way. My rating: Rent, then buy Gangbanged by transsexuals by Robert Hill releasing Co. There is no story line to this DVD, just one giant scene. The concept is pretty simply. They got a large number of transsexuals together in one room to have a party. They gave them booze and got them naked. Then they sent in a couple of guys and the gangbanging begins! Pros: -Good looking stars -An interesting twist. More often you'd see porn with a shemale getting gangbanged by a bunch of guys rather then the other way around. Cons: -No major problems. Favorite scene: The first scene where all the girls are getting drunk and trying to act like the camera isn't in the room. My rating: buy You've got she-male by caballero / blue pictures production This video has a mysterious white mini-van going cruising down the strip looking for some hot shemale hookers. Of course, they don't end up empty handed. Okay, all jokes aside, this is a pretty simple movie concept. But simple in a good way. The previously mentioned minivan searching for hookers is merely hey they transition from lady to lady. You get about half a dozen girls in this video, which is not a bad nights work. Oh yes, and there is no real dialogue in this video, only music and moans. Pros: -Mixture of scenes including m/s, m/s/s, and m/m/s. -Mostly good looking stars. -The people actually look like they are enjoying the scene, not just faking it. Cons: -The music feels like a sampler CD. Favorite scene: When the guy and girl are in a hot tub. No particular reason why I like that one, I just do. My rating: Rent, then buy Transsexual Prostitutes #33 by Devil's film The premise of the film is pretty basic. A couple of horny dudes call up some random girls so they can get laid. Of course, since TS appears in the title you know that the girls will have a few extra parts to liven up the fun. The plot is just a tool to separate out scenes with different girls so the plot based parts of the movies last for only a few seconds before jumping right into the stripping and the fucking! Pros: -A fair variety of scenes (m/s, m/s/s, m/m/s, m/m/s/s) -Decent looking girls Cons: -One of the guys in the movie looks weird. He kind of creeps me out and he doesn't seem to fit in with the rest of the people. But that is a personal preference. Favorite scene: There is a scene with one guy and two girls. One of the girls seems to REALLY enjoy sucking on one of the guy's balls. You'll know it when you see it. My rating: Rent Summary: So, if you've got some free time coming up soon and want to have some porno fun, consider renting "Shemale Cock Party" or "You've got shemale." If you're in the market to buy, "gangbanged by transsexuals" would make a good addition to your video library. Good night and good wanking! Saving The World Porn Review #2 Well fans, friends, and enemies, I am back. It took some time but I’m ready to once again help you steer clear of bad porn and launch you deep into the good stuff. How am I going to do that you ask? By watching lots of porn, jerking it a few times to clear my head, and then give it either my thumbs up or thumbs down. My system of review will be fairly simple. I will provide you with the name of the DVD and who released it. I'll then give you a very brief description of the film along with some pros and cons. Then I'll summarize by giving it one of my four ratings: Avoid: This movie isn't worth getting. Rent: Worth seeing once Rent, then buy: You might want to buy it but you should check it out first. Buy: This film is worth buying. There is no gay or shemale porn reviewed in this installment. If you want some reviews of films from that category, check out my earlier installment. With that established, let's begin! Totally Natural #1 by Caballero There is some plot to this film but, like most porn, it’s kind of cheesy. Still, it doesn’t get in the way of the fucking and it provides some flow between major scenes. pros: -Film has a variety of actors and actresses. -Couples perform a variety of sex acts in each scene. cons: -The DVD is only 2 hours long. Favorite scene: Sex on the pool table. My rating: Rent, then buy. Ma Ma Volume 1 by nutechdvd This is an anime movie. The plot is one that can’t be explained in one or two words. Basically a young man is orphaned and has to go live with his step-mother. Since I am reviewing it in my porn review, this story quickly encounters some erotic twists that I won’t spoil for you. pros: -It’s funny although at times you’re not sure if it was meant to be funny or not. cons: -It’s short. Volume 1 is less then 30 minutes. -It’s somewhat cell shaded. If you like cell shading, this is a pro. If not, it’s a con. Favorite scene: Any part involving his weird, new step sister. My rating: Rent. Kekkai: report 1 by nutechdvd This is another anime movie from the same people as Ma Ma Volume 1. The plot is fairly simple. The police find a woman at the scene of a brutal murder. She could be a valuable witness if she wasn’t terrified and suffering from split personalities. Pros: -The animation style is similar to older anime movies. -The plot is original and makes you want to see more. Cons: -It’s short. Just like the other movie, it’s about 30 minutes or less. Favorite scene: Anything involving the psychiatrist. He just doesn’t seem like a very good doctor. My rating: rent, then buy. The boob lesbos by sunshine The theme of this video should be pretty obvious from the title. This video contains nothing but lesbian scenes and the casting clearly focused on the size of the actress’s breasts above all else. There is no plot in this film, just girl on girl sex. Pros: -At four hours long, it is a large film. Cons: -More then a handful of the women have very fake looking breasts. -Many of the ladies clearly don’t seem to into their role. Favorite scene: No scene jumps out as being any more memorable then the others. My rating: avoid. Japanese Jaw dropping sex acts by Taiyo entertainment Like many porn films, the title tells it all. This film is composed of several scenes depicting Japanese girls getting fucked. Like most films of this concept, the girls are small, cute, and extremely horny. My only complaint was that I had seen several of the scenes from this film in another film. Pros: -The setup for each girl is different which gives the film some variety. -The film is fairly lengthy Cons: -I’ve seen some of the scenes reproduced EXACTLY the same on another disk. Favorite scene: The first girl, when moving from the living room to the bedroom, attempts to make the trip while continuing to give her partner head. My rating: rent, then buy. Summary: So, most of the videos today were rentals. If you can’t find a place to rent them, you can find them online but that would require purchasing. You should resort to that at your own risk. While it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen, the boob lesbos did get an avoid rating. When it comes down to it, even if you’re obsessed with big breasted lesbians, there are better films of that genre out there for you.