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Naked Portraits Pt. 01

By: eagelwolf



Chapter 1

Gwen

After wiping my face free of sweat for the thousandth time with the bottom of my shirt, I grunted in frustration and pulled the shirt all the way off, reducing myself to a dark blue sports bra and paint-smeared jeans. Normally such a bold move would be unthinkable but the heat trumped modesty and besides, I was alone in the sweltering art studio. For a fraction of a second I considered losing the jeans too, but alone or not, working in just a sports bra and jeans was as daring as this Japanese chick was willing to get in a public space. 

You walk around in less at Ala Moana Beach Park, my brain whined, desperate for relief from the heat.

Ignoring my whiny side, I wiped fresh sweat from my arms and upper chest with my abandoned shirt and wondered what the temperature in the hot classroom was. Overhead, the blowers worked noisily, cleansing the air of turpentine fumes and other toxins but did nothing to lessen the stifling heat. A monstrous oscillating fan in one corner near the posing platform added to the din of the overhead blowers. The fan helped a tiny bit with the heat by moving the air around. 

I pushed my slipping Elvis Costello glasses back into place on my nose. Maybe my whiny brain has a point about losing the jeans, I thought lethargically as I tied my long, dark brown hair into a tight ponytail with a stretchy hair band. 

Or better yet, we should just get the fuck out of here, whiny brain interjected. 

Because of the broken air-conditioner, the scheduled figure painting class was canceled. I'm not enrolled in the class but for the last couple of weeks I've been sitting in just for fun so the cancellation was a mild disappointment. As embarrassing as it was to admit even to myself, figure painting was kicking my skinny artist's ass. As a graduate of Honolulu University, I have become a dedicated abstract expressionist influenced by the likes of Mark Rothko, Jackson Pollack and Helen Frankentheller so going back to painting the figure again turned out to be a very difficult thing to do. 

My original plan was to stay to take advantage of having the space all to myself and work on a large abstract that was too big to fit in my tiny assigned graduate studio. But no way, not in this heat.

 You win whiny brain, I conceded.

As I pack away my art stuff, the door to the hot painting studio flew open. Instinctively, I crossed my arms in front of me to cover up my near nakedness. I relaxed a bit when I saw it was the figure model in a dusty mauve robe. Apparently, no one had informed her that the class was canceled. She walked to the elevated posing platform, stepped up and without any prompting, removed her robe.

I stared at her with my arms still crossed in front of me for a few seconds. What was she doing? Couldn't she see that the class wasn't happening? I retrieved my sweat soaked shirt and quickly pulled it back on. 

This was a different model from last week. The girl from last week was a regular named Dorothy who had a Victoria's Secret catalog figure. This new girl was a redhead; pale, tall, slim, and athletic. A fascinating galaxy of freckles covered her from head to foot and her long red hair shone with an interesting metallic sheen. The trimmed triangle between her legs was also metallic red, just a shade darker. I liked this new girl more than Dorothy because she didn't make me feel like a shapeless flagpole. Except for the height (the girl looked close to six feet tall) my figure wasn't much different from hers. Even though most of the women in the developing world were starving themselves to attain the figure nature gave me, I was still cursed as a slender "B-cup Japanese girl. 

 It just isn't fair that the Caucasian and Hawaiian girls get all the curves and big breasts, I bitched to myself. 

"You want a new pose or do you want me to repeat Dorothy's pose from last week?" Red asked.

"Um, it's just me. You don't have to stay," I said. 

"Doesn't matter to me. I get paid either way."

"What about the heat?"

She smiled. 

"I'm naked. It's no bother at all. You can take your shirt off if you like. That won't bother me either."

Ignoring her suggestion I said, "I'll get my painting and put you in last week's pose, if that's okay." 

She shrugged. 

"Okay." 

But instead of getting my painting from the painting rack, I stood and stared at her as she fiddled with her hair. 

 What is wrong with you? Look away you idiot! I yelled in my head. But I couldn't look away; her perky, freckled breasts trapped me like a fish in a snare. She turned away from me and spread her arms out in a worshiping gesture to greet the osculating fan, giving me a nice view of her slim, perfect, freckled ass. 

 Is the heat fogging your brain? Get the painting before she thinks you're some kind of weirdo freak, I urged myself. 

At the painting rack in the back of the room it was even hotter. Taking Red's advice, I lost the shirt and draped it on a nearby chair. I pulled out my unfinished canvas from last week and set it up on an easel then stood back to look at it. The pose was right out of Botticelli's Venus but instead of rising from a clam shell, my girl stood next to the open door of a 1974 candy-apple red Volkswagen Karmann Ghia. 

"Why am I painting this post-modern parody?" I asked aloud.

"Because it's more interesting than the usual modernist abstract expressionist crap you've been churning out lately is why," someone other than the model said.

I barked a small scream, quickly found my shirt and threw it back on. The unknown person turned out to be Betty Nagata, my best friend, standing just inside the door. The noise of the overhead blowers and monster fan had masked the sound of her entrance. 

"You working in a bikini?" Betty asked with surprise. 

"It's a sports bra, and it has more material then any three of your hundred dollar bikinis put together," I said, embarrassed at being caught flashing in public even by my best friend. Defensively I added, "If you haven't noticed, it's fucking hot." I went to the classroom's clunky old radio and turned it on. Classical music filled the hot classroom. "And I'm glad you think so little of my artistic achievements." I finished securing my canvas to the easel with the bottom and top clamps. 

"Don't you have a class right now?" I asked, puzzled by Betty's presence.

"Yeah, late twentieth century American economic history. And it's as boring as it sounds," Betty said as she tied back her long dark hair with a pink hair band. She dropped her backpack and purse on a nearby chair. "I had one of three ugly choices to make: go to the history class, commit seppuku, or watch you paint. Since I don't have a sharp knife, I came here." Betty casually assessed the tall, naked redhead on the posing platform as she spoke. The redhead gave her a casual smile and a little wave of hello. 

People hanging out who are not working when a model is posing nude is strictly against the rules. Determined to enforce the rules I said, "You can't just hang out here. It's rude to the model."

Betty looked at the naked woman up on the platform and asked, "Mind if I hang out?" Annoyingly, Red shrugged her indifference. "Is it always so fucking hot in here?" Betty complained. She looked at the painting and said, "You made her tits too big and she's not a blond."

"This is a different girl from last session," I said irritably. 

Betty put her hands up and backed away. "Just trying to help...what a grouch." 

Ignoring Betty, I instructed the model on the pose. 

Close to tipping the scales into OCD, I lined up tubes of acrylic paint from light to dark divided into warm and cool groups on the taboret. Then, as was my habit, I spent the next couple of minutes squeezing out colors on the glass top pallet, reflecting my lineup of the tubes with liberal blobs of white and black dominating the upper and lower corners. With a spade head painting knife, I swished around crimson with cadmium yellow to make a dull orange. Then I scooped in some burnt sienna to create a coppery red and applied a little to the head of my unfinished figure. I frowned at the color. 

"I like it. Red suits her more than blond," Betty said. 

"It's too close to the color of the car." I said and scooped up more burnt sienna to push the color away from the red of the car.

"Don't do that, I like that the hair and car are the same," Betty said from behind me.

"Well I don't," I said. The next thing I knew, my brush was yanked out of my hand from behind. Beyond annoyed I barked at Betty, "Have you lost your mind!" Then added with exasperation, "Why are you here anyway? You never hang out when I'm painting."

"Because it's like watching paint dry?" Betty said with a laugh.

"I bet the class you're cutting is air conditioned," I said hoping she'd take the hint. Because of the heat, Betty had unbuttoned her stylish white blouse and tied it in a knot below her breasts, exposing her flat firm abdomen. Below, she wore expensive skinny jeans. She and I had twin slim figures yet she always looked better than me in everything she wore. 

 Maybe her faithful visits to the Waikiki Sunset Gym are the reason, my logical side said. Maybe, although, I couldn't see how going to the gym could possibly make her tits look bigger than mine but somehow they always appeared to be. 

"This tree is totally pointless," Betty said and put a big red X over the offending tree. 

"You're fucking crazy!" I screamed at her. 

The redheaded model turned her head our way. I blushed, deeply embarrassed for shouting in public, but Betty had truly lost her mind. I attempted to take my stolen brush back but with a smooth, easy twist of my right wrist, she held me at bay. 

"Ow!" I barked from the pain.

"It won't hurt if you stop struggling," Betty said calmly.

Naturally, stubbornly, I struggled. After a couple of seconds of pointless pain (all on my part) I slipped from her grasp but only because she let me. I pretended to accept defeat then made a sudden grab at the brush again, but she easily straight armed me then pointed the brush at my face as if it were a weapon. Perplexed by her crazy behavior, I backed away. The model was still staring at us. Burning with shame I wanted to shout out that my friend had lost her mind and that I wasn't the cause of the disruption. But my ingrained Japanese nature of not creating a scene in public took hold and I weakly sat down in a nearby chair. 

"Oh come on. You told me yesterday how much you hate this painting," Betty said.

"So what? That didn't mean I want you defacing it."

"Mind if I have a go at it?" Betty asked.

"Go ahead, you've already ruined it." 

Betty smiled her thanks. First she went to the radio and switched from classical music to a classic rock-n-roll station. The Stones' Satisfaction filled the stifling air as Betty went to work on the painting, starting with the red mixture for the hair. Then for the next hour I watched as she turned my blond into a redhead, slimmed her down and gave her a breast reduction. Betty looked over her shoulder at me with an excited expression and said, "Not bad for a business major." 

I smiled. I was glad she was having fun. Back in high school, Betty was an art geek just like me, but when she became an undergraduate at Stanford, her domineering mother had put an ugly end to all that. Her mother had told her, "You're a leader Betty, not a Bohemian hippie." In other words, you are not a total loser like your friend Gwen. 

Bubbling with excitement, Betty said, "Get up there and I'll add you in."

"Yeah right," I said. 

"Do you mind if Gwen joins you up there?" she asked the model. 

Red shrugged indicating she didn't care. The chick seemed indifferent to everything. I rolled my eyes and said, "No way."

"Chicken shit," Betty said. 

  I didn't want her to lose this rare art groove so I said, "I'm only doing this to shut you up," and stepped up on the platform.

Betty crossed her arms in front of her, studied me then finally said, "You have to get naked."

"No fucking way," I said adamantly.

Betty made obnoxious chicken sounds.

With an exasperated roll of my eyes, I stupidly answered her dare and shucked my shirt and jeans and stood on the posing platform in my dark blue sports bra and pink and white stripped panties. "That's all you get," I said seriously.

"Chicken shit," Betty reiterated.

Why does her calling me chicken make me do such stupid things? Aloud I said, "I don't know how many times you got me grounded doing shit like this in high school." I shucked my bra to show I was no chicken. 

"Not my fault you're so weak willed," Betty said. "All of it, chicken girl." 

I removed my pink and white panties. Immediately, the redheaded model's eyes fell on my naked flesh, judging me. I wanted to cover up but resisted the urge because I knew Betty would start making chicken noises again. A quick glance at my nether region made me wish I had trimmed down there more than once this month. Then the monstrous osculating fan turned toward the platform and it felt heavenly, possibly worth this public humiliation. 

"You look great," Betty said. 

"Call me obake," I said noting my pale skin.

"No more so then her," Betty said, comparing me to the redheaded model.

"She has all those neat freckles to give her some color," I said. 

What's obake?" Red asked, following the conversation.

"Ghost, in Japanese," Betty translated. "Face your front to Red and turn your head to me," Betty instructed. I did and she went to work.

After a half hour I couldn't stand it and had to step off the platform to see what Betty the business major was doing. I pointed at the model's dusty mauve robe and asked her, "May I use this?" She shrugged with her usual indifference. Comically, the bottom of the robe came way below my knees and the arms were far too long. The chick was an Amazon. My eyes grew wide in disbelief at the sight of Betty's progress. She had me well established alongside Red and both figures flowed with a grace that had eluded me. 

"Why are you a business major?" I asked with awe and a little envy. 

"You know why," she said with an edge. But not wanting her contentious relationship with her mother to ruin the moment, she quickly added, "This is fun. Get back up. I wanna do more." She politely asked Red, "You need a longer break?"

"I'm good," the model said. 

Although I felt I was pushing my luck that no one had walked in on us yet, I got back up on the posing platform with the redhead. 

"Get close to Red like in the painting," Betty said. "Red, turn your head and look at Gwen. I'm starting in on the faces." 

Red was a head taller than me and my eyes naturally dropped down to her breasts practically at my eye level. Realizing too late that I was looking at the chick's tits too long, my eyes rolled up to her face and met the girl's impossibly blue ones looking down at me. Self-consciously, I dropped my eyes to avoid her stare and encountered her freckled breasts again. I couldn't help but notice that the girl's nipples were the same fascinating coppery color as her freckles and that they were hard and erect. My eyes flicked back to her face and she gave me an odd, crooked smile. 

 Was that look seductive? Is that why her nipples are hard? Am I turning this chick on? No way am I turned on by all this, I thought firmly. Tell that to your nipples Japanee girl, my naughty half volunteered.

It's the cooling effects of the fan, I quickly reasoned.   

"The two of you look so cool. Literally." Betty said as she wiped at her sweaty face then declared, "It's fucking hot." She undid the knot of her shirt and shucked it. Showing more courage then I, she slid her jeans down her legs reducing herself to a black bra and skimpy black boy-short panties. 

 "Oh my God, Betty! What if someone comes in?"

"Hey, I'm not the one standing around naked. You're the total prostitute," she said getting back to work. 

 She really has lost her mind, I thought. 

I looked over at Red but the chick seemed unperturbed by Betty's shocking behavior. In fact, she seemed to be giving Betty a serious once over. I focused on Betty too and thought how good her figure looked in her skimpy outfit: nice muscle tone, trim waist, perfect curves in all the strategic places. 

Like she was following my very thoughts, Red said to Betty, "They had your figure in mind when they designed the Olympic beach volleyball outfits."

Betty smiled, graciously at the compliment. 

Lesbian. Definitely.

 Red's eyes came my way and I stupidly blushed. Even more stupidly I thought, Would she pick Betty over me? Glumly, I decided that she would pick Betty because Betty's tits looked bigger than mine, although it wasn't true and I had the math to prove it. But no amount of math could explain away Betty's much toner body. Then and there, I vowed to visit the campus gym from now on for I couldn't allow a fellow tiny tit Japanese girl to attract more lesbians than me.

I kept my eyes focused on Betty because I was too chicken to look at Red, the lesbian. The rock-n-roll played on in the background and Steve Miller sang:

 I feel the magic in your caress

 I feel magic when I touch your dress

 Silk and satin, leather and lace

 Black panties and an angel's face

The song and my scantily clad best friend melded into one, triggering a memory from three years ago.



Betty and I were both undergraduates at different California colleges. I went to San Jose State for their interesting art program and Betty went to Stanford in Palo Alto, her mother's Alma-mater. Betty wanted to go to The Pratt Art Institute but no way her mom was gonna let that happen. Anyway, our universities were within spitting distance of each other so we hooked up on a regular basis. And hooking up was made fun and easy with Betty's E-500 pale gray Mercedes convertible. The car was a high school graduation gift from her parents.

My parents gave me a cool backpack.

Betty wanted to keep her old car, the '74 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia, but her mother insisted she take the Mercedes, claiming that the old car made her look like a hippie. To be honest though, I secretly loved the E-500 but feigned agreement with Betty that the new car was an embarrassing bourgeois status symbol.

One bright, Northern California spring weekend, Betty called me and asked if I would go with her to some function in Sonoma that her mother wanted her to attend. It was at a vineyard called Billano's Fine Wines. Betty said that the Honolulu city council was courting Billano's to open up a vineyard on Oahu. Usually I said no to such invitations because I knew that Betty's mom hated me. But Camille would be thousands of miles away and the event was at a vineyard and that would mean free wine. What broke, art student would say no to that? 

"Nicky and Aaron are coming too," she'd added.

I smiled; I liked Nicky and Aaron Fernandez, the future heirs of the Fernandez Dairy industry back in the islands. Nicky and Aaron were cousins and deliciously handsome, having that magical perfect mix of Asian and Portuguese. The pair lived to party, surf, ski and drink and drink and drink. Aaron Fernandez had a big thing for Betty going back to the second grade. Betty liked Aaron back but unfortunately for him, Betty's mother, Camille Nagata, didn't. I heard Camille say once that Aaron Fernandez was a political scandal waiting to happen. Aaron is one subject that Camille Nagata and I agreed on. His heavy drinking and occasional flirtation with drugs were going to bring him down hard. 


Naked Portraits Pt. 01



As all that went through my head I said, "Do you think it's a wise idea to take the Fernandez boys to a winery?" 

Betty laughed, "They'll be fine." 

She picked me up and we drove up to San Francisco to meet up with the lost Fernandez boys at their hotel. From there in the boy's rental, we drove up to Sonoma to the Billano's Vineyard. As we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge I turned and looked at Aaron and Nicky in the backseat, bickering as they passed a Nintendo DS back and forth. 

Tired of their squabbling, Betty shouted at them, "You guys are fuckin' rich! Why not just buy another DS?" 

"Still think it's a good idea to take these clowns to a winery?" I asked Betty.

"It's important to my mom that I make a good impression and no one is better at schmoozing then Aaron and Nicky. All we have to do is keep Aaron away from the wine table for an hour and we'll be fine." 

I shrugged and kept my feelings of impending doom to myself. 

Surprisingly, things went well at the winery and even turned out to be fun. Along with the other guests, Betty, the Fernandez boys and I got a nice tour of the vineyard and winery. After the tour, we attended an extravagant reception at the owner's mansion atop the highest hill on the property. 

With a glass of red wine in my hand, I watched Betty work the room. She was fearless, poised, totally at home talking to the millionaire owners of the winery and the other guests who stunk of money and power. She looked stunning in her strapless thigh length black dress, her dark, long hair stylishly up, makeup impeccable. Betty had a thing for offbeat silver jewelry and wore a choker around her pretty neck that consisted of hundreds of tiny silver skulls. It was a subtle thing and you had to get very close to her to see the skulls for what they were. Betty's mom would flip if she knew about the choker. "Throw that Goth crap away," she would always say to Betty. And it always annoyed me that Camille was looking at me whenever she said it. Hey bitch! I'm a bohemian not a Goth, I always wanted to bark at her but never had the courage to. 

I wore a clingy dark green dress that I had borrowed from Betty. In fact, all of my good clothes were borrowed from Betty. Anyway, I loved the dress because it magically made my chest look bigger and I mentally worked on an elaborate scheme to steal it and keep it forever. 

Aaron Fernandez's familiar loud laugh made me turn my head. I quickly deduced that he had had that crucial glass of wine that officially put him in the realm of social liability. Betty clearly heard the laugh too and both of us materialized at Aaron's side at the same moment. Betty went to the head butler, majordomo, whatever rich folk call guys like him, and asked him to call a cab. Next I went looking for Nicky who I assumed had had just as much to drink as his cousin. I found him sitting with a drunken older man who seemed enthralled with Nicky's charms and exotic, boyish good looks. 

"Sorry buddy," I said to the inebriated fellow and whisked Nicky away. 

The taxi arrived and we poured the Fernandez boys in it. We dusted our hands and gave each other smug smiles, proud at avoiding a social disaster. Back at the party with a fresh glass of wine in my hand, I shadowed Betty as she made a circuit of the large room making polite conversation as we drifted. 

"Look, it's the Aryan Brotherhood," Betty said, indicating a pair of big blond bookends. "They've been eying us up all evening." 

I looked at the pair and assessed them. "They stink of trust funds." 

Betty laughed and said, "Your liberal class envy is showing. Oops, you looked too long, stupid head," Betty said as the pair headed our way. 

Betty fended off her trust fund blond with a few polite choice words but the bigger of the two kept at me. The idiot just wouldn't pay the fare to get on the clue bus. Finally I had to tell him to go fuck himself in very graphic detail.

"You pissed him off," Betty said holding back a smile.

"Not my fault he's so fucking stupid," I said and Betty laughed. 

An hour later, Betty deemed that we had stayed long enough to suit her mother and said, "Let's get the fuck out of here." I followed her down a side hallway to a door that popped out onto an ally between the mansion and a side building. "Need a cancer stick first," she said as she pulled out a pack of Marlboro lights from her small handbag. Betty's smoking was a big secret, something she didn't want getting back to her mother, hence the clandestine location. 

"It's sad that at your age you still hide that you smoke from your mom," I said.

"What can I say? I'm pathetic." She lit up. 

The door we stepped out of suddenly opened making us both jump. We turned to see the trust fund blonds enter the ally. 

"Want a smoke?" Betty said calmly to the pair. 

"No, I prefer sushi," said the big idiot who had given me a hard time. I officially added racist to the asshole's growing list of unsavory attributes. 

"Come on Dick, don't do this," the slightly smaller blond advised with a hand on his friend's shoulder. 

Unfortunately, the wine in my system prompted me to say hostilely, "Listen to your friend big Dick. Go inside and have a glass of wine." I thought it clever how I made his name sound like an insult. 

Dick said pointing a finger at me, "You've been giving me the eye all night long and I think you want a kiss." The idiot reached out for me. 

Betty slapped the guy's hand down firmly before he could touch me. Her quickness and strength took him off guard. I saw fear in the eyes of Dick's friend. I was scared too and wanted to scream at his big idiot friend that Betty knew karate. And I'm not talking about white collar, earn a black belt after breaking a board in half kind of karate. I'm talking about the art of seriously maiming another human being.

Looking at Betty, big Dick said, "Why don't you give me that kiss and I'll think about going away." He reached out for Betty with his right hand. She grabbed him by the wrist and twisted. Dick cried out in pain and if he had been a little bit smaller (and a touch smarter) he would have gone down, but the dumb ass managed to keep his feet and tried to grab Betty with his other hand. Betty swung out with her free hand and smacked him in the face with an open palm then jabbed his right thigh with a knee. Big Dick dropped like a sack of rice on his side on the graveled ground, clutching his face. He wanted to clutch his injured thigh too but his damaged face took priority it seemed. 

Some of Betty's styled hair had shaken loose, a long strand spilling down the left side of her face. She stood over Dick's body in a defensive stance bristling with menace. Surprisingly, her cigarette still dangled at the corner of her mouth. The sight of my beautiful and dangerous best friend standing over fallen Dick sent an odd thrill of excitement through me that was disturbingly sexual. 

"Fuck!" Betty barked as her face twisted with disgust. 

Shakily, I said to Dick's friend, "Go get help." The guy dashed away, probably happy to put some distance between himself and Betty. 

"My mom's going to skin me alive," Betty said glumly, the cigarette bobbed up and down at the corner of her mouth as she spoke. "I guess I don't need Aaron and Nicky to fuck things up, I can do it all by myself." She took a hard last drag of her cigarette, exhaled the smoke, dropped the cigarette and snuffed it out with her elegant black pump inches from moaning Dick's head. 

Soon the narrow alley was filled with people. Dick was taken inside and tended to by another guest who was a doctor who soon reported a broken nose and an ambulance was called. 

Betty, Dick's friend and I, gave our stories to the vineyard's private security chief. Fortunately, Dick's friend backed us up saying that Dick was drunk and a racist pig to boot. The guy was being fair and honest or perhaps afraid that Betty would hunt him down and beat the crap out of him too. Betty looked visibly relieved when everyone agreed that there was no need to call the local police. 

Later, as we stood outside waiting for the parking attendant to bring around our car, Betty's cell phone rang. She looked at the incoming number and sighed. It was her mother of course. 

"She knows," Betty said with a fatalistic sigh and took the call. Three minutes later she hung up, blinked dramatically and said, "The deal with the winery and the Honolulu city council is a go. Mom called to thank me for giving such a good impression." 

We laughed all the way back to the city. At the Fernandez boys' hotel, Betty called Aaron on his cell from the lobby. After talking for a couple of minutes, Betty closed her phone and said, "The assholes are in Berkeley at a bar."

"I don't wanna go to Berkeley," I complained, tired from the long day. 

"Me neither," Betty said. She reached into her bag and held up a room key card. "I lifted this from Aaron when we dumped him in the taxi. Let's go have our own party and charge it all to room service." 

Five minutes later we were in Aaron and Nicky's luxury suite at the Braddock Hotel. We called room service and ordered a feast along with two bottles of Billano's Merlot in honor of Betty's success at the winery. 

As we gorged on the hotel food, Betty said, "Aaron claims that he stays here at the Braddock only because of their sushi chef. This stuff is great." 

I nodded my approval too. 

We were on the second bottle of wine when Betty said, "I have a new business plan. I go into AT&T, Microsoft, Face Book, Google whatever and start breaking some noses until they make me president of the company." 

"Brings a whole new meaning to a hostile takeover," I said and bit into a piece of sushi, savoring the grilled jumbo shrimp and rice. With a full mouth I said, "I can't believe Dick called me sushi." I frowned at the remains of the sushi in my hand trying hard to get my drunken head around the moment's possible irony but it eluded me. 

"Yeah, using food as a racial slur? It's like calling someone potato salad or a hotdog or something," she said with a laugh and refilled our glasses with more Billano's Merlot. 

We raided Nicky and Aaron's suitcases for comfortable clothes. I put a pair of bright red silk boxer shorts and a wife-beater. Betty had on one of Aaron's button down shirts that ended high on her thighs and a pair of black boxer briefs that I thought was Nicky's. 

"Don't take this the wrong way but I got wet when you busted that guy's nose," I said

"I got wet doing it," She said. "My sensei would slap me silly if he heard me say this but it was fun in an uncivilized, brutal kind of way." She took a sip of her wine. "Did I ever tell you about my graduation day at karate school?"

"Yeah, a million times" I said, "but tell me again. I like that story."

Betty cleared her throat. 

"Back in high school, I showed an interest in martial arts. As you know, my dad finds me the best karate teacher on the island. With this guy, there were no clean white ghis or colored belts, just lots of endurance exercises and meditative focus."

"Like Mr. Miagi in Karate Kid," I said. "Wax on...wax off," I added with the proper movements. 

Betty giggled and continued. 

"One day, about a year later, the instructor told us advanced students to stand and wait in the training room. We all stood quietly for close to an hour, unmoving. We were always doing shit like that to test our focus. The first time I was asked to stand still for a long time it felt like three hours but it turned out to be only ten minutes. Anyway, after a full hour of standing and waiting, two of the teacher's assistants entered the room and without warning, attacked us. In less than thirty seconds, everyone was down including the two assistants. I was the only one left standing. I sensed movement to my right and in my hyped state I lashed out taking the person down with a leg sweep. Instinctively, I threw an elbow to the side of his face as he went down. Then to my horror I looked down at the bloodied face of my sensei. I freaked, grabbed my gym bag and ran from the building in total panic. I was openly bawling as I fumbled to get the key in the ignition of my car. 

"Betty Nagata," Betty said imitating a stern commanding male voice then continued in her normal voice, "It was my teacher; the left side of his face was red and swollen, blood smearing his upper lip and chin. My sobbing turned to hitching gasps as I lowered the window of the car. The teacher said with a deep bow, "You have graduated and it would honor me if you continued to take my instruction."

I laughed. I loved hearing that story. 

"I felt that he was going to attack me so I lashed out on instinct," Betty said.

"What were you thinking about before the assistants attacked?" I asked.

"Shoes, black and red ones from France." 

I rolled on the bed laughing.

"What would you have done if I hadn't been there back at the winery?" Betty asked. 

"I wouldn't have been at the winery if not for you," I said drunkenly. 

"Come on, hypothetically. What would you have done?" Betty persisted. 

I thought for a second them said, "Pretend to let blonde boy kiss me then knee him in the balls." 

Betty laughed. 

"Guys expect that." She stood up, put down her wine and waved me toward her. "Come try this." I put down my wine too and stood up. She stepped in close. "Guys are always ready for the knees to the balls so you use that to your advantage. Okay, put your arms around me then force a kiss. I'm going to kick you in the balls." I giggled and dropped a hand between my legs. In a blink I was on my back on the bed. 

"Hey! You said you were going to kick me in the balls!' 

Betty smiled down at me. 

"Just like every male on the planet, you were protecting your precious jewels so I took you down with a simple leg sweep." 

"Let me try," I said getting back to my feet. We got in position and Betty moved in for the kiss. I did the move like she said but she didn't go down and her mouth covered mine. I made a muffled sound and pulled away from her. "You didn't go down!" 

"You were broadcasting and I anticipated. You shouldn't do that," she scolded. 

"Of course you're anticipating! You just showed me how to do this!" I said in drunken exasperation. "Okay, again," I said taking a stance. Seconds later Betty's lips pressing against mine again. I made a sound of frustration then kissed her back for real as pay back. Betty pulled away quickly and looked at me with utter bewilderment. I smiled in triumph for I hardly ever one up her like this. 

She squinted at me and said, "Oh yeah?' then plowed in and covered my mouth with hers. I made a muffled squeal and kissed back jutting my tongue into her mouth in defiance. After five seconds we both pulled away at the same time. Betty held a surprised look. Her eyes locked with mine and her look mutated into an evil grin. I knew that grin, it had gotten us nearly jailed a number of times in high school.

"No fucking way," I said holding out a hand to slow her down.

"Chicken?" Betty said using the magic word that always got me to do the wrong thing. To obviously one up me, she hastily unbuttoned her borrowed shirt and shrugged it off and stood before me in just the black boxer briefs, her long dark hair pushed over to one side covering her right breast. 

 The underwear company would sell truckloads of their product if Betty would advertise for them just as she was, my wine soaked brain mused. Then it hit me that I had just kissed my best friend with mucho tongue not to mention that she stood near naked in front of me. 

Operating on drunken dare mode, Betty said, "Your turn, lose the shirt."

A delirious warm thrill rippled through me, the wrongness of the moment seriously overshadowed by several glasses of Merlot. But there was something else driving me too, something new from deep down that was sparked by Dick's beat down back in the ally at the winery. I slipped off my shirt and stood before my friend topless in a man's silk boxer shorts. We were physical mirror images; the same height, same long black hair, wide shoulders, small perky breasts, slim waists, nice hips, slim legs and nice curvy backsides. The major difference was muscle tone. Betty's arms, legs, and abs showed her passion for the martial arts. We eyed each other, and then with matching wicked smiles we stepped into a hot, forbidden kiss.

 This is so wrong, my head screamed but the wine made the scream faint and distant. A part of me screeched in panic Oh-my-god I'm a lesbian! I loved the way her breasts felt crushed against mine, the feel of her tongue in my mouth, the feel of her hands on my silk covered ass. One of my hands found its way to Betty's breasts exploring them hungrily. Betty quickly returned the greedy, wicked favor. 

Then a loud knock came at the door. 

"Fuck!" I yelled and the two of us scrambled to put our shirts back on. I sat on the bed as Betty hastily buttoned her shirt and looked through the peephole at the room door then seconds later opened the door. It was the Fernandez boys. 

"You took my door card." Aaron said drunkenly.

"We got thrown out at Berkeley. Wanna hit the Tenderloin with us?" Nicky said.

Betty sat back down on the bed at a respectable distance from me. "Yeah sure," she said with a sideward glance at me.

"Good there's this real cool lesbian club called A Smile From A Veil I discovered. You're gonna love it." Aaron said.

Betty and I screamed with laughter and the Fernandez boys simply looked befuddled.

My mind returned to the overly hot classroom and I quickly looked away from my best friend's black panty covered ass and hoped that my sudden blushing would be attributed to the heat. Why the hell I was suddenly thinking of the forbidden kiss was beyond me for in true proper Japanese fashion, Betty and I buried the incident in a dark, dry place in our minds and have hardly spoken of it since. 

 It's Red here and her wandering lesbian eyes, I reasoned. Somehow the chick has rekindled my latent attraction to my best friend. Then the unspeakable happened. The door to the painting studio opened. My heart moved up to my throat and my skin crawled with panic, the muscles in my legs twitched with the need for flight. Then like a wild animal caught in headlights, I stood stock still hoping that the intruder wouldn't look my way and prayed that it wasn't anyone I knew. No such luck though. The newcomer was Betty's new boyfriend. 

"Hey, got your text," he said to Betty and gave her an unguarded, lustful grin. "Love your outfit." Then he looked at the painting on the easel. "This is great. That looks like your friend Gwen." 

Betty pointed up at me on the platform.

Shamefaced, I smiled weakly as I willed my clothes to fly to me magically. The only reason I didn't rush to my clothes was that I didn't want to look like a wimp in front of Betty or the lesbian redhead. 

"Hey Gwen," he said casually, doing a great job of pretending I wasn't standing naked before him although I did see a hint of the same smile he had given Betty just moments before. Stupidly, I wished again I had trimmed at least once this month.

"The name's Hawk," he said in introduction to the redheaded model. Absurdly, he extended his hand and they shook. If I hadn't taken a half step back, Hawk's arm would have brushed my breasts. Modesty and shame took hold and I crossed one arm in front of my breasts and covered my pubic area with a hand. Red gave me a small smile probably thinking me cute and quaint. 

"Is Hawk really your name?" the redhead model asked.

"Yes," Betty answered for him. "His parents named him after the famous physicist Stephen Hawking."




Naked Portraits Pt. 01



"Wishful thinking on their part," he said. "And what's your name?" Hawk asked of the redheaded model.

"Venus," Red said with a smile.

"Apt name," Hawk said. He turned to Betty and said, "I'm intruding so I'll meet you later?" 

"I'm almost done. Hang out," Betty told him. 

 I'm standing up here naked! He can't stay! I wanted to scream but didn't. In quiet horror, I watched Hawk settle in a chair near Betty.

"Back to the pose," Betty commanded.

With a face probably as bright as a tomato, I dropped my arm from my chest and removed my hand from below. 

"He's really cute," Venus whispered to me as I returned to the pose. 

That was an understatement. In my opinion, Hawk was sculpted perfection, his body lean and athletic. He wore khaki shorts, t-shirt and Birkenstock sandals. His long, sandy, sun streaked, blond hair framed a handsome, smooth face with just the perfect edge of ruggedness.

Betty's boyfriends hardly ever lasted more than a few months but this Hawk guy was an interesting anomaly. Not that he'd lasted longer than any of the others; he'd only been around for about three months himself. It was the fact that the guy was not Japanese that made him interesting. It was an unspoken rule with Betty's mother that her boyfriends had to be from prominent, local, Japanese families or at least a local family that came from money or power. This Hawk guy was a rare and serious open show of rebellion on Betty's part. 

That all aside, I found myself in a confused state of total humiliation and sexual arousal with Hawk's presence. Every time I looked his way, he was looking at me. 

After a few minutes, Venus asked for a break, stepped down off the posing platform and walked over to see the painting. The chick didn't bother with her robe and I notice Hawk's eyes dancing up and down her naked form. Irrational jealousy flushed through me at his blatant ogling of Venus. His eyes shifted to me and for several seconds I stood stock still, secretly enjoying his gaze and happy that he looked at me and not at Venus. 

"I think it's done," Betty announced.

"You should see this," Venus said. 

Hawk looked away from me, breaking the spell. My usual self-conscious mode kicked back in and I stepped down from the platform, rushed to my clothes and quickly dressed, worried about what Hawk must be thinking of my brazen behavior, yet happy when I saw him sneak a peek as I dressed. When fully dressed, I stepped around to look at Betty's painting to see Venus and I standing in front of the red Karmann Ghia with dark, moody trees behind us and a gray, cloudy sky looming above. I stared, astounded. The painting looked like something right out of the Baroque period, even with the anomalous sports car.

"You both look great." Hawk said as his eyes flowed over the real naked Venus and not the painting. 

 Why won't the chick put on her robe? I thought with a great deal irritation. 

To Betty I said, "I'm late for Hawaiian art history. Can you clean up for me and take my stuff back to my studio?" I didn't wait for an answer, grabbed my backpack and bolted out of the room, my mind a confusing jumble of emotions.

*****

In just panties and a bra, I stood on a hotel balcony looking out at the ocean. It was night and a cool breeze brushed my skin. My head was muddled like I had just woken from a deep sleep. An obvious question formed in my head. Where am I? Although it was night, I could easily tell that I was in a Waikiki hotel. Then the next obvious question formed How did I get here? I turned and walked to the balcony door behind me and slid it open. The night breeze stirred the light drapes and the soft drone of an air conditioner met me as I stepped into the darkened cool room. The only light in the room came from under a closed door off to the right. I could just make out a silhouetted figure sitting on the bed.

"Quiet, she's sleeping," the silhouette said, her voice was strangely familiar.

"Who's asleep?" I asked.

"Venus," said the silhouette.

"Is that you Betty?" I asked.

A soft laugh followed. 

"Not quite," the silhouette said as she got up from the bed. In the weak light I could see she was naked. "Come," she said and walked to the door with the light underneath. When she opened the door I saw that it was the bathroom. The darkened room flooded with bright light. I turned away from the light and looked at the bed and saw naked Venus lying on her side, asleep, her long, red hair obscuring her face like a veil. Shielding my eyes from the harsh light from the bathroom, I followed the mystery figure in and she closed the door behind us. The bright light really hurt my eyes as I watched the naked woman drop the toilet seat and say, "Sit please." I did as she asked. She stayed standing, leaning against the sink facing me.

"What the fuck?" I said softly. The woman was clearly me but with a sharper, better toned body. 

"You look great," I said stupidly. I couldn't have helped but notice that she had a nicely trimmed bush too.

The other me laughed. It was soft and musical...and sexy. The laugh set something off in me and I wanted, hell I needed, to touch her. As I stood I said, "This is one freaky dream,"

"I'll say," the other me said with a bemused smile.

With my right hand, I touch her left breast, hypnotically zooming in on the faint little mole an inch below the small, dark brown nipple. Automatically, I looked down and fingered the mole on my own breast. I felt her drawing near, positive she was going to kiss me. I liked the idea and hoped that she would. She didn't kiss me though. All she did was whisper into my ear. 

"Goodbye." 

My eye lids suddenly grew way too heavy with the need to close them so I closed them. 

When I opened my eyes again I found myself standing in the figure painting studio. A single spotlight illuminated the easel with Betty's painting on it and Betty stood off to one side, just out of the pool of light. 

"You like it?" she asked.

"I hate it," I lied. 

Betty laughed and stepped into the light. I was shocked to see she was topless and wore just black panties. Absurdly she said, "With an angel's face." Seconds later a totally naked Venus joined her in the light.

"I thought you were asleep?" I said lamely to the impossibly tall, beautiful, naked woman. 

Venus gave me a sweet smile and then pulled Betty into her arms and the pair engaged in a full-bodied kiss that hissed with lust. 

"I better go," I said, confused and embarrassed, but they didn't seem to hear me and I couldn't think what else to do but watch them.

The kiss ended. Betty looked at me and said, "Just like you and me in Sonoma."

I blushed, not knowing what to say to that. I focused on the painting. 

"What the Hell?" I blurted out in surprise. The painting had changed. Both figures were gone and only the red car and dark sky remained. Then, just as impossible, a painted topless Betty stepped into the post-modern Baroque landscape and got into the car behind the wheel. The Karmann Ghia's distinctly high revving engine barked to life, the tires squealed and the car disappeared off the left edge of the painting. My eyes darted around the room to look for the real Betty but she was nowhere in sight and only Venus stood by. 

Shaking with confusion, I walked to the canvas and touched its surface; my hand came away sticky with gray and blue paint from the sky. I felt a presence behind me then a pair of hands brushed my hips. I looked down expecting to see Venus's hands but the hands were those of a man. As the hands slid to my front, I leaned back against a lean, hard, athletic body, immediately encountering a steely erection. Whoever was behind me was clearly naked and, so I noticed for the first time, was I. Unabashedly, I pushed one of the hands feeling my breasts lower down. 

As the hand worked its magic on my clitoris, I felt compelled to confess, "I'm a little bushy. I haven't trimmed for a while." Thankfully, my mystery man seemed not to care about that and my passion built with every movement of his exploring fingers. "May I kiss you?" I asked, then spun around not waiting for permission. A part of me was totally sure it I'd be facing Hawk Detrick Heinz but shockingly, I found myself face to face with Venus. 

"If you can kiss Betty, you can certainly kiss me," she said with a thin smile.

I put a hand to her face and pushed her away, leaving a blue-gray hand print where I touched her. 

"Chicken shit," came Betty's voice from the painting. 

"Fuck you," I said and to prove how UN-chicken shit I was, I stepped into Venus's arms and covered her mouth with mine. The kiss was strangely airy, spacy and elusive. As we kissed, the woman put a hand between my legs to pick up where Hawk (or whoever my mystery man was) had left off.

"May I?" came a deep male voice from behind me.

I turned away from Venus and found myself on my knees facing an erect penis. Mechanically, I gripped the thing with my right hand then looked up as Hawk looked down at me with the sweetest of smiles. After smiling back, I encircled the head of his penis with my mouth. Venus dropped to her knees beside me. The bright, blue-gray hand paint on her faced glowed with drifting clouds. More paint from my hand had transferred to Hawk's penis too. I closed my eyes briefly and when they opened again I found myself looking into Hawk's sky blue eyes with him laying on top of me on the model's platform, his pretty, cloud covered penis deep inside me.

"Kiss me," I demanded still deprived of that pleasure.

Instead of kissing me though, he spoke, but his voice was drowned out by the roar the car engine coming from the painting. I grunted in frustration and demanded my kiss but the roar of the engine got louder. 

"I'll kiss you," Venus said from nearby, clear as a bell. 

"I don't wanna kiss you, I wanna kiss him. If he kisses me, I'll come." I said, positive of that fact. I looked at Venus and the blue-gray paint had spread over all of her face and I could barely discern her from the painting behind her. The roar of the car engine increased, getting louder, more annoying and persistent.

Slowly, Venus and the canvas behind her turned an odd textured white. The sound of the car engine had changed too; it was high and shrill now, no longer a deep rumbling roar. I blinked several more times and realized I was staring at the textured ceiling of my seedy Waikiki apartment. The persistent, high, shrill sound was my cell phone ringing on my nightstand. With a great deal of effort, I answered the phone.

"Gwen Yoshimura, it's almost noon and you're still asleep? How decadent," Betty Nagata said in my ear. 

"I'm not the one kissing goddesses," I said feeling strangely relieved to hear her voice. As surreal as the dream was, it was also weirdly vivid and I almost asked Betty what size Hawk's penis was to compare my dream with reality. 

"You smokin' pakalolo this early in the day?" Betty asked with a laugh. 

Her laughter cleared the last of the dream from my head. 

"What you need Nagata?"

"Well Yoshimura, can you get your roommate's car and pick up the sushi platters for the party?"

"Can do. Where at? Safeway?" I asked knowing full well I was wrong. 

Betty laughed, "No, stupid head, Suntory's. Five platters, they'll be ready after four o'clock." 

Suntory's was the best sushi house in Honolulu and, knowing Betty, she got the premium platters that ran $200.00 or more. It still amazed me, even after all these years, the financial divide between Betty and I. 

Trying to sound casual I asked, "Will Hawk be there at the party?"

Betty laughed.

"No, He's off island but he said that he enjoyed seeing you naked today." 

I groaned. 

"You gotta dump him. No way can I face him again."

"Get out of bed, lazy ass," Betty said with more laughter and hung up.

I ran my fingers through my messy, bed sculpted, dark brown hair. A huge yawn split my face. Last night I stayed up past three painting in my private studio on campus. Fuck this, I thought and went back to sleep. 

Sometime later, my phone rang again. I picked it up and answered rudely, "What?" 

"Gwen?" It was Betty again. 

"I promise to get the sushi. Please let me sleep," I begged irritably.

There was a long pause then she said, "What did we do at the hotel after we left the vineyard party in Sonoma?"

Why was she bringing this up now after all this time? 

"You know what we did," I said. "And I thought you never wanted to speak of it ever again?" 

"I need you to tell me now," Betty said. She sounded upset and that woke me up fast.

"You okay?" I asked with concern.

"Yeah. Please? Just humor me and tell me what we did."

After a short silence I said, "We kissed." 

She went quiet too. After several long seconds Betty said, "I have to go, see you at the party tonight." She hung up.

What was that all about? 

Fully awake but still dog-tired, I crawled into the shower. I had just about forgotten about that kiss and yet here I was thinking about it twice in the same day. I stepped out of the shower and dressed. Betty's peculiar phone call on top of my weird, naked dream with Hawk and posing nude for Betty's painting put me in a strange state that I couldn't shake. Feeling restless, I got out of the house. 

Whenever my roommate was out of town, she let me use her car. Taking advantage, I drove all over town shopping for art supplies and running errands. After my last errand I looked at the dashboard clock and freaked. It was close to six and the sushi for the party had been ready at four. 

I rushed over to Suntory's to pick up the platters. The tires of my roommates car squealed as I made the turn a little too fast into the parking lot of the restaurant that it shared with a strip mall. As I got out of the car, my eyes met those of a totally stressed out Asian woman staring at me from the passenger seat of the car parked next to me. Another woman sat in the driver's seat but she had her head down and I couldn't see her face. The woman in the passenger seat just wouldn't look away. I gave her a nervous smile and rushed into Suntory's. That was weird, I thought. 

At the front counter, I asked for Betty's order and the guy behind the counter asked for the pick-up ticket. I said I didn't have it and gave Betty's name again. He gave me a dark look and started to look at the tickets of the to-go orders to see which one was Betty's. 

"Mo' easy if you have the numba," the guy groused as he looked, causing me to double my effort to find the ticket in my purse. As I searched, I heard the door opened behind me and I was afraid to turn fearing that the whacked out chick from the parking lot had followed me in.

"Gwen?" A soft voice said.

I turned, surprised to see that Betty had just entered the restaurant. With a frown I said, "Sorry I'm late picking up the platters and I think I left the pick-up ticket at home." Then I saw that her face was puffy, eyes red, she had been crying. "Hey? What's up?" I asked. 

She stepped forward and hugged me for an awkwardly long time. Finally she backed away and said, "It's a mother Camille thing. You know how it gets. She can be a real bitch sometimes." 

I nodded. Betty's mother could be a real bitch all the time I thought.

"Did you drive here?" I asked and looked out at the parking lot, relieved that the car with the crazy woman was gone. 

"No," she said. "It was getting late and I thought you forgot to pick up the sushi for the party. Nicky drove me here then I saw your roommate's car so I asked him to drop me off." Out in the parking lot with the loads of sushi Betty said, "Let's go get Misty and get this party started."

I didn't argue with her. 

Chapter 2

Betty's Party

Betty behaved strangely at the party. Her smiles and cheerfulness seemed forced. She was definitely on edge and I tried several times to get her to tell me what was up but she kept insisting that she was fine. I cornered Misty Omoto, the third arm in our sisterhood of mayhem. 

"It's gotta be something with her Mother," Misty said. "Only Mother Nagata can put Betty in a such a fucked up mood. That woman can be a real asshole sometimes."

I nodded in agreement. 

"But at least she likes you," I said. Misty laughed. 

"I'm the granddaughter of the former Honolulu police chief and a police officer myself so what's not to like?" Misty gave me a sympathetic look for she had witnessed Betty's mother open hostility toward me over the years. With a thin smile she said, "Why does that woman hate you so much?"

"I exist," I said glumly. Misty laughed. 

"My theory is that you're a bohemian artist with an out of control drug habit having wild, unprotected sex with other bohemians."

"What? I don't use drugs. I hardly even drink and I'm not even dating!"

"That's how Camille Nagata sees you. As a possible liability to her political career," Misty said. Then with a sly smile added, "You are a total slut when it comes to the Fernandez boys."

"I am not!" I protested. 

"You're all over them like Spandex every time you're near them."

"I am not!" I said again, trying not to laugh because it was kinda true. I did have a thing for Aaron especially. 

"What is she denying?" Betty asked, stepping into the kitchen to deposit some drinking glasses into the sink.

"That she has a thing for Aaron and Nicky," Misty said.

"You're a total whore when it comes to those two," Betty said as she scanned the tray of sushi on the counter for a morsel she liked.

"Well I'm too much of a bohemian loser for them," I said, mostly joking.

"No you're not. They think you're cool and envy your artistic talent and your courage to follow your heart," Betty said, stone serious. She found a sushi she liked then and said, "And so do I."

I was taken aback by this unexpected candidness. 

To break the strangeness of the moment, Misty asked Betty, "You been smokin' pakalolo?"

"Not with a cop in the house," she said.

"I have no jurisdiction here in the islands whatsoever," Misty said. 

And she was right. Melanie Omoto (Misty to all who loved her) was here on a rare visit from San Francisco where she lived and worked as a police officer. Four-year college, grad school and careers had scattered us to the winds and it was nice to have us all together in the same room. Misty, who hardly ever drank, seemed in a celebratory mood and kept up with Betty and I glass for glass.

"I love your new condo," Misty said.

"Thanks. It was a graduation gift from my parents," Betty said nonchalantly. 

"My parents gave me an organizer," I said. 

Betty put her hand on my arm and said in a patronizing tone, "It was a very nice organizer."

"Fuck you, rich bitch."

"Hippie bohemian," Betty shot back. Uncommonly drunk, Misty laughed way too hard at our banter. 

My eyes fell on a painting of a fish on the wall over the small kitchen table. The painting style made me think of an Edouard Manet still life. In the painting, a silvery fish rested on a wooden board and beside the fish was a sharp looking kitchen knife with a black handle. Faint Japanese characters were painted into the handle in silver.

"Where did you get that odd little painting?" I asked.

Betty looked at the painting in question. 

"It belonged to an aunt from Maui."

"Your Aunt Greta?" Misty chimed in.

Betty nodded. 

"It hung in her house for years. I always liked it and out of the blue she just gave it to me. The words on the handle say fish cutters."

I squinted and translated the Japanese characters on the knife handle into English. "The lovers screamed their passion."

"What the hell?" Betty asked. She and Misty got up to get a closer look at the painting. Betty's Japanese sucked and I knew she couldn't read written Japanese to save her life but Misty knew the language well enough and she confirmed my translation. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 01



"I'm gonna have a talk with aunt Greta," Betty said.

Uncharacteristically, Misty covered her mouth and giggled like a girl.

Still looking at the painting, Betty pulled her cell phone from her pocket then left the room.

Misty and I shrugged and went back to work on the sushi tray. Misty picked the grilled eel and I hit the salmon roe. I took the moment to give Misty the once over. She wore makeup and her hair was down instead of her usual no nonsense ponytail and most remarkably, she wore a dress; a blue one up to mid-thigh. Misty was quietly good looking and would give Betty a run for her money if she chose to but, like me, she found the girlie grooming thing a waste of time. 

"You look nice tonight. Going on a date later?" I asked.

"Went on one before the party, that's why all the war paint," Misty said as she bit into her grilled eel.

"Really? With who?" I asked, intrigued.

"Too soon to tell, don't wanna jinx it."

Betty returned and I enlisted her aid in grilling Misty for her new boyfriend's name. But the chick was too tough and wouldn't give in so we were forced to talk about other things like Betty's weird Aunt Greta and the Fernandez cousins. Eventually, Betty and I got to griping about school. In particular, I complained about an advanced world history class that I had signed up for with a book list several hundred dollars long. 

"What was I thinking when I sighed up?" I groused. "I don't need any more history credits for my masters." 

"Because the class is hip and the teacher, Professor Piedmont, is super hot," Betty said. "I took the class my first year of grad."

"Is the teacher as hot as Jeff Goldblum?" Misty asked. Both Betty and I gave her a look. "Jeff Goldblum is hot. I'd fuck him," she said in drunken defense. 

"Anyway..."Betty said with raised eyebrows, "I still have all my books from the class. You can have them."

It was a given that I'd get her hand-me-down books. Money was never a problem for Betty of course and she certainly didn't need to stand in line to get the shameful 25% (or less) buy back for her text books to help pay for the next semester's load. 

Getting free books was a tiny blip in Betty's generosity toward me. Last semester, she paid for all of my art supplies when things got tight. Because of my Japanese sensibilities, I tried to pay her back but she always refused to take money. Betty takes advice from her father about friends and generosity; if you can afford to lend your friends money, give it to them and you'll stay friends forever. 

I'll have to say though that Betty was never shy about claiming my art as payment. If she ever showed an interest in anything I was doing, she would simply claim it as her property regardless of what my plans for the piece was. She has the largest single collection of my art going back to the first grade. In fact, the walls of her Waikiki apartment were a retrospect of my art career. She called me her long-term investment and plans on selling the collection on eBay after I make it big or at least die in a scandalous, unspeakable way worthy of a tabloid. 

Betty led Misty and me to her bedroom to search for the books. On the way I thanked her several times over; the books would save me a couple of hundred dollars, easy. Betty waved off my thanks as she opened her closet door. 

"They're in one of these," she said pointing at several bankers boxes with lids. "Some of the boxes are Hawk's. They're kind of mixed up with mine and nothing is labeled. He's storing them here until his housing is cleared for the session." Betty picked up a box and plopped it on the bed. 

"Is his name really Hawk?" Misty asked as she sat heavily on the bed.

"It's short for Hawking," Betty said. "His parents named him after the famed physicists Stephen Hawking, a personal friend of Hawk's father apparently. His full name is Hawking Detrick Heinz but he goes by Hawk Detrick only. He said he wanted separation from the famous name. His grandfather hung with Einstein and his mom is a big shit at NASA."

"Why isn't Hawk Ketchup Heinz here at the party?" Misty asked. 

Betty laughed. 

"He's on Maui judging a surfing competition. Aha!" Betty exclaimed and held a book out for me to see. It sported the daunting title of Norway's Contribution to the European Economy and the Strengthening of the Euro. 

"Wow, exciting," I said with as little enthusiasm as I could muster. 

"Give a hand lazy ass," Betty said as she dove back into the box looking for more books. 

I picked the nearest banker box and plopped it on the bed. Crudely drawn on the lid in black marker was a skull and crossbones. 

"Arrr," Misty growled like a pirate as I pulled off the lid. "What the fuck?" Misty exclaimed seconds later when she saw that my box was full of porno movies; some were VHS tapes but most were DVDs.

Misty pulled a large, gaudy VHS movie box out and said, "Do they still make VHS movies?" She read the movie title aloud. "The Cum Palace, 100 Facial Cum Shots." Under the title on the front cover was a naked smiling blonde woman on her knees and a man holding his erection inches from her face. Misty flipped the box over and the same blonde from the front was shown covered from hairline to chin in sperm. "Yuck!" Misty barked and dramatically dropped The Cum Palace down on the bed.

With drunken fascination, I pulled out a handful of DVDs and read each title aloud, "Best of Butt Fuckers 4, Battle of the Blondes, The Best of Peter North Facials, All Asian Fuck Fest." I peered into the box and there must have been close to fifty DVDs in it. 

"This is freaky. Are these yours?" I asked, knowing full well that they had to be Hawk's. Betty's face turned bright red. 

"Of course not!" she said. Brusquely, she snatched the DVDs from my hands, flung them back into the box, slapped the cardboard lid with the skull and cross bones down and placed the box back in the closet with more force then was necessary.

Betty was clearly upset but because of the wine, I didn't get how upset so I stupidly said, "The guy's obviously a freak." 

Betty gave me a hard, serious look that shut me up. 

"I'll search for the books. You two go back to the party," Betty said. It was a command and not a request. I quickly left the room with drunken Misty in tow. 

As I dragged her out Misty said, "The Best of Butt Fuckers 4 sounded intriguing." I shushed her and shoved her along. She laughed and added, "Poor Hawk ketchup guy, he is gone."

I had to agree and felt guilty since it was my fault, albeit indirectly, that his porn stash was discovered. My odd little dream with Hawk earlier today surfaced in my head giving me an unexpected shiver of excitement, making me wonder at my general state of mind. A few minutes later, Betty approached me with a stack of textbooks. 

"Here you go," she said with a cheer that didn't touch her eyes. In a low voice so that others wouldn't overhear, she said, "I need to tell you something." 

I waited with my best neutral look, which was quite an achievement considering the amount of wine I had drunk. She looked into my eyes and didn't say anything for what seemed like forever. Suddenly her eyes started tearing up. 

She has been absolutely weird today. Showing up at the figure painting studio was certainly out of character. And actually painting after all these years totally blew me away. Then coaxing me to pose naked and then practically getting naked herself? Well, actually those last two things weren't so unusual. She was always getting me to do stupid things like that and she could never pass up a chance to be shocking. But that crazy phone call about the kiss was out of the blue. Now this shit of finding out her beautiful surfer boyfriend was a porn addict couldn't possible sit well with her. And I would bet Diamond Head Crater that something was up with mama Camille too. Betty was tough and could take anything life threw at her, even crap from her domineering mother. But all of this at once? Her tears truly alarmed me. 

"What's going on?" I asked softly. 

She covered her eyes with one hand and after a bit more silence said, "Please don't mention the movies to anyone. I don't need this getting back to my mother." 

That was it? She was afraid I would tell her mother? 

"Betty, I promise not a word, but lighten up, it's no big deal. Guys watch porn. It's a fact of nature and it's kind of funny I think." I said to reassure her, trying to keep my voice low but the alcohol made it near impossible. 

Several glasses of wine later, I sat on the living room sofa talking to a pudagee guy named Greg. I was too drunk to fully follow what he was saying. I think he had mentioned he was a musician? Or a plumber? Either way, he was pretty to look at so I kept nodding as he rattled on. My last thought was that this guy was getting lucky tonight then the next thing I knew, I was strapped in the passenger seat of Betty's car. 

"Did I fall asleep?" I asked.

"You passed out with your face in some guy's lap."

We pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building. This proved that she was really pissed at me because I would usually spend the night at her place after a party. 

Too wasted to get out of the car or do the stairs to get to my apartment, Betty had to help me every step of the way. She even helped to undress me then poured me into my bed. I opened my eyes briefly and saw a woman standing in the doorway of my room. She was Asian, slim, pretty wearing a baseball cap. 

 Was she a friend of my roommate? 

"Who are you?" I asked.

The woman sat at my side and pushed my hair from my face tenderly. With a kind but sad smile she spoke. 

"You are about to start the adventure of a life time."

*****

I sat up with a start and looked around my darkened bedroom in a panic for a woman in a ball cap. For some reason I was positive it was the same woman I saw in the parking lot of Suntory's. But there was no one in the room. It was just another stupid dream. 

Since I only had on panties, I slipped on a random shirt and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water. I peeked into Nora's room on the way to the kitchen and saw that she was still out, probably spending the night at her boyfriend's place. 

Craving something salty and fatty, I staggered to the icebox. As I perused the contents of the fridge, it occurred to me that I wasn't hung over. With the amount of wine I had drunk tonight, I should feel like the walking dead. 

"Brains," I said in my best imitation of a flesh-eating zombie as I bit into a cold KFC chicken leg. With a plate of chicken and a tall glass of apple juice in hand, I sat on the sofa and clicked on the TV. 

Mindlessly, I watched a workout infomercial with a couple of hot guys in tight outfits demonstrating workout equipment and surprisingly, it was turning me on. Craving naked man flesh, I hunted the premium channels but found nothing worthy so I went to the pay channel menu and picked a promising movie titled Confessions of a Male Stripper.

Ten minutes into the movie I knew I had picked a loser. Except for one attractive guy, the men in the movie were below average in looks and the one good looking guy wasn't even the star. It was apparent the movie was hardcore porn edited for cable which meant that all the interesting sex was edited out making it even more stupid. 

"That was a waste of four bucks," I complained. Betty's boyfriend's porn stash danced through my head. "I'm sure there was something interesting in that box to see," I said aloud as I continued watching below average looking male porn stars pretending to be sexy male strippers. My studious Japanese side forced me to watch longer then the movie deserved because I didn't want to waste the money I had paid for this turkey. But finally I hit my saturation point and declared, "To the internet," and clicked off the TV.

I went straight to my roommate's room because her computer was far better than the hand-me-down piece of shit in my room. Three minutes later I floated on the World Wide Web. A movie from the box, 100 Facial Cumshots, surfaced in my head, prompting me to Google facial cumshots just to see what I'd get. To my amazement, more than one million results were found. I clicked on a site named Horny Dog Licks that claimed to have the best facial movies online and, not surprisingly, the site's mascot was a cartoon dog licking itself. 

Filtering past the endless ads for Viagra, penis enlarging devises and horny girls living in Downtown Honolulu looking for some guy to fuck tonight, I came upon an alphabetized, categorized listing of every possible sexual situation one could imagine. You name it and it was there. I scrolled through listings for Asian amateurs, ass fucking, blondes, big tits, bondage, chained housewives, drunken cheerleaders, ebony ass and countless more. In the 'P's', a listing titled Peter North Facial caught my attention. I recalled that one of Hawk's movies was dedicated to this Peter North guy. 

I clicked on Peter North Facial and a still of a naked blonde woman with a pretty face and big boobs kneeling on a wooden floor popped up. Below the still were the words 'Peter North facializes blonde.'

 Is facializes even a word? I wondered as I clicked on the still. 

The media player kicked in and the movie clip started up with a close up of the woman smiling up at the camera. A man with an above average erection in his hand stepped into the scene. They never showed the guy's face so I had to assume that it was Peter North. The beautiful blonde on her knees begged North to come on her face. The sound of North's breathing moved in rhythm with his hand sliding along his stiff erection. It wasn't the biggest penis I had ever seen in a movie. One of the two porn movies I had seen previously had a guy in it named John Holmes. Now that was a big dick. 

With no warning, a huge rope of semen leaped from North's penis, taking the blonde by surprise, causing her to yelp. In seconds, the woman's face was zigzagged with white liquid streaks.

"Yuck," I exclaimed in gross fascination. The same scene started up again but this time in slow motion. The facialized (if the word facializes is a word then facialized has to be one too) blonde held a small, closed mouth smile throughout the process. When the slow-motion deluge was over, the woman's smile bloomed into a full, toothy grin. Her eyes met the camera as it zoomed back to give the viewer a good look at Mr. North's handiwork. The camera didn't miss the fact that a fair amount of semen peppered the woman's full breasts.

I couldn't believe that all of that stuff came out of one guy. 

"It had to be fake," I said as I clicked on another North clip. This time, a slim, dark haired girl knelt at North's feet. (Again, I had to assume it was North although it did look like the same penis from the first clip, that much I could tell.) I watch as North drenched the woman's face with seven huge shots of semen. As he milked the last dribbles onto the girl's chin, she exclaimed, 'Holy shit!' in what appeared to be genuine astonishment. 

For the next hour, I watched all types of women grossly anointed by Mr. North: busty blonds, curvy brunettes, pale redheads with freckles, slim, small breasted women, black girls, Hispanics, Asians, all of them beautiful or pretty. I watched in particular fascination as North ejaculated on the face of a stunningly beautiful Asian girl who held a dubious expression of disbelief throughout the process. 

"I'd do the same," I said aloud, squinting in sympathy for the girl. To my amazement though, I was getting turned on as I watched the girl getting blasted. 

"When did this become opposite day?" I asked my hormone soaked brain. Stupidly, I came up with a porn movie scenario of my own. In a sexy nightie (which I don't own, I might add) I'd go down the hall and knock on the door of the two college guys living there. One looked like Benjamin Bratt and the other looked like the Asian guy from Lost. (The real guys who lived there were a couple of total geeks but since it was my porn fantasy I got to pick the cast.) I lean in the open doorway and say, "Me so hawny," in that annoying Vietnamese girl's voice from the movie Full Metal Jacket. "You studs, wanna cum on my face?" 

Yeah right. That would totally happen. In the real world, we girls are begging guys to come on our faces all the time. Before I got offline, I did the very male thing of deleting my dubious search history. With my electronic tracks covered, I headed to the bedroom for my real world date with my vibrator. 

"Sorry college geeks next door," I said aloud.

Too lazy to even break out my vibrator, I lay on the bed and slipped my hands under my panties. As I worked myself to the soft smooth edge of an orgasm, visions of all the Peter North clips filled my head, triggering a dirty thrill that rippled through me like a rock dropped in a scummy pond. Then a really stupid idea formed in my head. Running with it, I slipped off the bed, went to into my bathroom and found my hand cream in its squeezable plastic bottle. 

"This is so stuuupid," I said aloud as I slipped into the kitchen and threw open the microwave. As I shut the door, I wondered if the bottle was microwave safe. Two ten second zaps with a vigorous shake seem to do the trick. I figured, to do a proper facial simulation, the sperm substitute had to be close to body temperature. 

A sense of kinky urgency took hold of me as I excitedly rushed back to my room. Catching a glimpse of myself in the full length-dressing mirror on my closet door I stopped and slowly undressed like I had a lover in the room. My dark blue t-shirt that serendipitously said Just do it on the front went first. I smoothed my dark, long, brown hair down and looked at myself in white panties. Aside from being a little too pale from spending all my time in my studio, I looked pretty good I felt. I turned my hips to admire my ass. At a party once, a guy told me that I had an ass that could launch a thousand ships. He, of course, had plans of jumping said ass. But I did agree with him that I did have a nice ass, just before I called him a pig and told him to go fuck off. My eyes drifted to my breasts and I instantly wished I had more up top. 

Betty, who shared the exact same bust line as me, said I had the perfect figure and I should stop whining or at least marry a rich guy so I can buy my dream pair. 

Standing sideways, I slid my panties down then turned to face the mirror full front to admire my recently trimmed bush. I had learned my lesson after my impromptu nude modeling session yesterday. With a seductive expression, I dropped to my knees.

Holding the hand cream in both hands at what I gauged to be penis height, I said in a husky voice, "Cum on my face Mr. North," and squirted out a small jet. Instinctively, I flinched as the warm liquid struck my left cheek under my eye, some of it hitting the corner of my mouth. 

"Fucking nasty!" I barked and immediately regretted speaking aloud as more of the stuff got into my mouth, making me spit. I laughed thinking that this is a true reaction to a sperm facial. I spat a couple more times and wiped away the fluid from my face. Let's see the Myth Busters do this one, I thought with a great deal of amusement. 

The ice cold splash of reality broke my sleazy spell and I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. It was like I was drunk or high and now that the euphoria has worn off, I felt dirty and ashamed. But I didn't let my shame interfere with the humdinger fantasy I concocted with Betty's beautiful, surfer, blond, future ex-boyfriend Hawk...but even in my bloated fantasy, I didn't let him come on my face. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 01



Chapter 3

The Shunning

I didn't hear from Betty for a week and at first I thought nothing of it. Like me, she had a full graduate class schedule and on top of that she had her mother's endless political campaign events to attend. But as a week turned to two, it became apparent she was avoiding me. I called her cell numerous times but kept getting her voice message.

It's time to get to the bottom of this shit, I declared to myself, nice and angry. I skipped my early morning class and went to the school of business to wait for Betty to emerge from her morning class. But to my annoyance Betty wasn't in class today. 

As I turned to go back to the art department to weigh my options, a girl marched right up to me and got right in my face. 

"What's going on with you and Betty?" she demanded rudely.

I shrugged. 

"I don't know," I told her, staring unblinking at her until she backed down. It was Kimberly Kato, a rich kid like Betty. She backed off to a more respectable distance. 

"Everyone is saying that you and Hawk are sneaking around behind Betty's back." she explained haughtily. My jaw dropped at what Kimberly had just said. The chick raved on, "She called you her best friend! How could you do such a thing?" 

I didn't much like Kimberly before this, but now I truly hated her guts. The chick has been trying to dethrone me as Betty's beat friend since the first grade. Kimberly's father made millions in Hawaii real estate and she felt that she, as Betty's social equal, was better suited to be the best friend. What irked me even more was that Betty's mother agreed with her 100%. 

It was my turn to get up in her face and the girl shrunk back at my sudden advance and I ended up pinning her against a nearby cement column. 

"Kimberly, I don't know what's going on with Betty and if you see her, tell her to answer her fucking phone!" I said, my face inches from hers. I was starting to get genuinely pissed with Betty's crazy behavior and was more than happy to project my anger onto Kimberly. I had beat this girl's ass twice in elementary school and was willing to do it again if need be. Perhaps the past beatings had come to mind because the girl slid away from the cement column and ran with her stupid pedigree tail between her legs. 

Too edgy to sit in a class room, I blew the day off and headed to my private graduate art studio on the fourth floor of the art building. Painting proved futile and all I did was pace my tiny work space like a mad caged animal. After two pointless hours of fuming, pacing and not painting, I decided that it was close enough to noon to justify a beer at the Manoa Gardens, the only place on campus that served alcohol. 

In the stairwell, I nearly ran down a fellow grad student named Paul Gleason. After a quick apology and craving company in my misery, I invited Paul out for a beer and even offered to pay. Paul was a small wiry guy of twenty-five from Brooklyn, New York. He always wore a Yankee baseball cap, was gruff, opinionated and confrontational, but I liked him anyway. Paul's combination of personality traits confounded the Japanese in me and I could only take him in small doses. As a Japanese person, you were allowed to be gruff, opinionated and confrontational but never all three at once and never, ever in public. But the true reason I kept Paul at a distance was that he had no artistic talent to speak of and I just didn't want to be the one to have to tell him. How he got accepted into the grad program is an ongoing scandal in the art department.

"It's only eleven thirty and I'm due at Hawaiian art history right about now," Paul said.

"You would rather go to Jenkins' Hawaiian art history class then drink free beer?" I asked dryly.

"Yeah, your right," he said, reason prevailing, and he followed me to the gardens. 

Seated at an outside table under a green and white umbrella, pints of cold Sam Adam's dark in front of us, an odd mood settled on me. For some inexplicable reason, Betty's boyfriend's porn collection crept back into my head and just wouldn't leave. After the second beer, I asked Paul a blunt question. 

"So what kind of porn do you like?" I held in a laugh as he sputtered. Apparently my question took him by surprise.

He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and gave me a suspicions look. 

"I ain't fallin' into this blatant feminist entrapment," he said. To prove his point, he mimed zipping his lips shut. He meant it too. I found this a little surprising for I would think that a guy like Paul would be happy to share his dirty thoughts with a pretty girl willing to listen. It took one more pint of Adams to get him to talk. Finally, he confessed that he got his porn off the net. 

"Porn movies, VHS or DVD, are obsolete," he said. "It's all on the net now. Every possible fucked up thing that people can do to each other is right there just a click of the mouse away. I avoid the premium sites 'cause there's a shit load of free porn out there for the takin'." He shook a mildly drunken finger at me and continued. "The last thing that you wanna do is give your credit card number to an Internet porn site." With each swallow of beer, his tongue got looser. It seemed that he lived on the net 24-7. How did he get any work done, I wondered? 

"What is this thing about cumming on a woman's face?" I asked, the drinking messing with my social filter.

I laughed as he spat beer on the ground and sputtered again.

"I'm not gonna answer a fuckin' question like that." He wiped his mouth then said primly, "If I had to pick a body part to ejaculate on, it would be breasts." 

It was my turn to spit beer. Eventually, Paul drunkenly confessed how he found Asian girls endlessly fascinating since moving to the islands. In my drunken zeal, I turned to a page in the feminist handbook.

"When a white male lusts for women of other races we call that consuming the other."

"Ouch," Paul said with a grimace, "I knew this was a case of entrapment."

I laughed and thought of my recent lusting for California blond surfer dude Hawk.

"We all want to consume the other," I said.

I wasn't so drunk that I couldn't see that the conversation was getting too steamy so I ungracefully steered us to safer topics. After all the talk about sex and porn, I worried that Paul would be all over me like a polyester aloha shirt. But he kept a polite distance and his gentlemanly restraint made me like him all the more. Eventually, I extricated myself from Paul's company and decided my day was shot and took the bus home to my apartment in Waikiki. 

On the ride home, a cloud of sadness descended on me. Nothing seemed more depressing then sitting around my apartment in the middle of the day, drunk and brooding about Betty. In desperate defiance, I got off the bus a few blocks before my stop to walk off the Sam Adams. A sign up ahead caught my eye; Pua'a Video. Pua'a was the Hawaiian word for pig. 

"Pig Video," I said to myself with a drunken giggle. It surprise me that little video stores like this still existed in the age of Netflix and On-Demand cable. Perhaps a stack of mindless comedies would cheer me up, I thought as I pushed open the door of Pig Video. 

A rock-n-roll song had just ended on the sound system, plunging the place into silence right at my entrance and, like a scene from an old time Western, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me. Once inside I saw how apt the name of the place was. Pua'a Video specialized in pornography. You couldn't tell from the outside though. Where they being tastefully discrete or purposely deceitful, I wondered? There were six men in the place, counting the guy at the counter. My first impulse was to flee but then a tiny sliver of curiosity egged me forward. I blamed it on the beer. 

The Guess Who's 'American Woman' kicked in on the sound system and everyone went back to their business. The song seemed the perfect background music as I stepped deeper into the place and I couldn't help but bob my head to the forceful beat. No one stared at me directly but I could still feel their eyes on me nonetheless. Normally I would feel nervous at the unsolicited attention, especially in a place like this, but I had to admit I liked the unexpected feeling of power. I blamed that on the beer too.

These guys must be desperate for real female attention because I barely looked like a girl dressed as I was in baggy, paint smeared jeans and a blue, button-down work shirt. Then I remembered where I was. These guys wouldn't be here if they were getting the real thing. All the movies were DVDs, VHS a long dead dinosaur. A movie titled Black Santa's Coming to Town rested right next to Asian Sorority Girls In Heat. If there was any form of organization to the shelves, it eluded me. Stupidly, I wondered if there was a soft core section. 

I amused myself with reading some of the clever titles playing off of real movie titles: Star Whores, Indiana Bones, The Cat-house of Doom and the topper so far, A Few Too Many Good Men: Gangbang Fantasies.

"May I help you?" came a voice behind me. 

Mildly startled, I turned to face the guy from the counter. He was local, assuredly Japanese although his skin was a bit dark. Maybe he had a little Hawaiian or Filipino in him too. He had a full head of hair but most of it was gray. I guessed him at mid fifty but his face was very smooth, putting his actual age in doubt. I thought him quite attractive in that old fashioned Don Ho kind of way. Stupidly, I blushed because of my attraction, and also that I'd been caught wandering the shelves of a sleazy porn shop by such a handsome older man. 

"Um, do you have anything for women?" I asked lamely just to say something.

"There is a lesbian section on aisle seven," he said.

"No! I don't mean that," I said. He smiled.

"Sorry, but this is not the kind of place for romance based erotica." He looked thoughtful for a second though. "Maybe I got something." I followed him to the front counter. 

His accent was local but he sounded like he may have spent time away from the islands. I found that local guys who were in the military sounded like that. As we walked to the front counter, it suddenly occurred to me that I was the only customer left in the store. Did my presence empty out the place? If it did, I was costing this guy money. Perhaps his offer of help might be his polite way of moving me along.

"Try this," he said. "It's still male oriented but it has a little more story and art to it." He handed me a DVD in an unadorned plastic holder. The title An Island Girl's Fantasy # 4 was written in red Sharpie on the disk itself. 

"It's directed by Jade Tama."

"Tama is jade in Japanese," I said, smiling.

He smiled too. 

"Her web site is doublejade.com. It's listed under the title. She's local, a Honolulu girl I hear."

"How much for a membership?" I asked, feeling bad for having chased away his customers.

"You have a Cinemagic membership?"

"Um, sure," I said. Everyone on Oahu had a Cinemagic Video membership. After Blockbuster, it was the largest movie rental chain in Hawaii.

"We're affiliated. Your Cinemagic card will work here too," he said. I handed him the card, he scanned the Jade movie, I paid cash and he put the DVD in a Cinemagic bag of all things. "We have a night drop but you can return it at to any Cinemagic store on the island."

I nodded and wondered if he was politely saying, Don't come back, you're bad for business. Either way, I smiled and left the shop with my porn movie.

The walk home cleared my head a little and I found myself in the mood to watch the movie. An hour or two of sleazy solitude sounded like fun, although I'm sure that the porn movie, like all porn movies made for men, will undoubtedly offend me. But my hopes of sleazy fun were dashed on the rocks when I discovered my roommate was home. 

"You off today?" I asked the obvious. 

"They're renovating my section at the hotel so they gave me a half day," Nora said. "You home early too?"

"Yeah, not a day for thinking," I said.

Nora eyed the Cinemagic bag in my hand., 

"Got some movies?" 

"Yeah, art documentaries. Wanna see one?" I lied. 

She made a face and shook her head. 

"I just ordered Avatar On Demand. Wanna watch with me?"

"Naw, seen it twice already. I'm gonna go lay down and read." I left the living room and closed my door. With a heavy sigh of frustration I fell face down onto my bed. For a few seconds I considered playing the movie on my computer but immediately dumped that idea. My shitty computer drive had been acting up lately and I just couldn't bear watching a movie that froze every other second let alone a porn movie that froze every other second.

I rolled over and oozed onto the chair in front of my computer to check my email. Maybe Betty has ended my exile, I hoped. There was nothing from Betty, or anybody interesting for that matter. Then it occurred to me that, aside from Betty, I didn't know anybody interesting. A wave of depression with a sprinkling of anger washed over me. You seriously need a distraction. Then my eyes spied the web site on the DVD, doublejade.com. 

 So there I went.

The site was elegant and oddly tasteful. Stills of the very movie I got at Pua'a Video dominated the site. The stills were intriguing, creating a fresh wave of irritation at Nora's unintentional sabotage of my day. The male lead was a handsome blond hunk that automatically made me think of Hawk. Under the title of the movie was another link. I clicked on it just to see where it took me. It was an erotic short story site and a story titled Shelly's New Dance was the feature of the month. The author's name was Erica Lostindavoid. It took me a few seconds to decipher her last name as lost-in-the-void. You and me both sister, I thought. The title caught my fancy so I paid my three dollars for the download and started in reading:

Shelly's New Dance 

by Erica Lostindavoid

Minnie turned the calculator so that Shelly could see the numbers on the little screen. The offensive amount of $462.78 showed in bright red. 

"That much?" Shelly asked. 

"I added it up four times," Minnie said flatly. 

Shelly shoved the calculator to the center of the kitchen table with a flick of her wrist causing the thing to spin like a top. The number $462.78 appeared and disappeared, mocking her. 

"How did we lose control of the household finances so badly?" Shelly asked miserably. 

"That's just how short we are on the rent," Minnie said with equal misery. "I haven't calculated in utilities, food, school and personal expenses." Minnie sighed, pushed aside her long red hair, got up and plopped down boneless in one of the apartment's black lounge chairs, sweeping her long pretty legs onto the matching ottoman. 

The chairs and ottoman, along with the matching sofa, were part of the reason for the budget short fall. Shelly bought the furniture thinking that her college grant check was due in a week. To Shelly's horror, the grant was not waiting for her. The check would not clear until the end of the month because of some bureaucratic fuck up. Since Minnie had put in half the money for the new furniture, she was tapped too. 

"What about your boyfriend?" Shelly asked. "He's an electrician. They make good money, don't they?" 

"Was my boyfriend," Minnie answered. "I dumped him for that dancer in the play I'm in. Dancers make shit. Maybe you could return the furniture?" Minnie added sounding hopeful. 

"They were floor models, as is, no returns," Shelly said, quoting the sales person from the furniture store in a mocking male baritone. "That's what made it a steal at $480.00."

"Your family?" Minnie asked gently, knowing how touchy Shelly was about the subject. 

"My family," Shelly echoed with an ugly sigh. She slumped low in the kitchen chair, her eyes barely at table level. Her family had wanted her to live in the dorms claiming that she was too loose with money to live off campus. She had fought tooth and nail to get her way. Her parents only relented because she had moved in with Lisa Ochi, the daughter of a friend of her mother. Lisa Ochi was a fellow student and probably the most boring girl that Shelly had ever met but her apartment was in a choice location in the heart of Waikiki. 

Two months into the semester though, Lisa met a guy from California, fell in love, got pregnant and ran off to the Mainland with him, all in that order, abandoning her lease and poor Shelly. Lisa's implosion had happened so quickly that Shelly hardly had the pleasure of living in exciting Waikiki. Knowing that her parents would put her in a dorm room in an instant, Shelly held off telling them about Lisa's collapse. The rent was paid for the month so Shelly figured she might as well enjoy the place while she had it.

A week before the end, Shelly threw a party at the apartment with a bunch of friends. At the party she met Minnie who, at the time, was a friend of a friend. Shelly learned that Minnie was on the overflow list for campus housing. She told Shelly that her school loan would pay up to $650.00 a month on her rent for the semester if she chose to live off campus. Shelly got excited and asked if Minnie would like to move in. And just like that, the pair became roommates and not long after that, friends. And as far as the landlord still knew, Lisa Ochi was still the leaseholder.

Minnie was Irish, tall at an even six feet with copper-red hair and a fantastic, voluptuous figure. She was a dance slash drama major and an absolute blast to live with. Most of the time she was demurring, soft and feminine, but if need be she could cuss like a sailor, spit like a baseball player and drink like a frat boy. 

Shelly had never known anyone like Minnie and in many ways the women were opposite compliments. Shelly was a library science major, Japanese American with long straight black hair down to her shoulders, five four and slim with just the right amount of curve. Her breasts were on the small side but she was always confidant in their aesthetic quality. Her personality wasn't as outgoing as Minnie's, but by no means was she a social cripple and could cuss and spit if the need arose.

Coming back to the here and now, Shelly sighed. The gig was up and the dorms were looming in her future once again. In addition, her parents got to be right about her financial incompetence. She tightly squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. She loved her spacious Waikiki apartment with the pool downstairs and all the hot clubs just down the street with Waikiki beach only two blocks away. But most of all, she would miss living with Minnie. 

"I know a way we can make $300.00 each in one night," Minnie said in a soft voice. 

Shelly opened her eyes and looked at her friend with a glimmer of hope. 

"How?" 

"Stripping," Minnie said. 

"Yeah, right," Shelly said, returning to despair. 

"I'm serious," Minnie said. 

Shelly squinted at Minnie. "Oh my god, you are serious." 

"I've done it once before, just for kicks. It was easy and kind of fun." 

"You're crazy! I'm not stripping at some club where some frat boys could see me! It would be all over campus!" Shelly said. 

"It's not like that," Minnie said, "It would be a private gig like at a home or hotel room." 

Shelly's jaw dropped open. 

"Oh, that's so much better!" she said with double the sarcasm. 

"Okay, go tell your parents that you're short on your rent," Minnie said. "And by the way, you should also tell them that the nice Japanese girl you moved in with got pregnant and ran off with a hippy to California a year ago and that you now live with a redheaded haole actress slash dancer, with the apartment's lease erroneously renewed under Lisa Ochi's name." 




Naked Portraits Pt. 02



Hello Literotica reader, welcome to part two. Sorry for the two year break. Life demanded my full attention for a while. I submitted a new edit for part one but essentially it is the same story and hopefully a little cleaner. The big change to part one is an added introduction. I will repeat the same introduction here. For those of you who have already read the introduction from part one, skip ahead to the story. And for those of you who hate reading introductions ... well, you're are not reading this and have already skipped ahead so never mind. 

**********

Introduction from part one.

The original edit of this story was published two years ago here at Literotica. I had help from a cool volunteer editor. She put a polish on the piece that made all the difference. I've never thanked her properly and I'm embarrassed to say that I've lost my emails from that time and cannot recall her name. If you are still around, please drop me a note in the comments so that I can thank you properly. 

I stopped writing Naked Portraits for a spell because my life demanded my full attention. I'm back behind the laptop again and went back to read part one. The characters were interesting but a bit too sketchy. I sent in a new edit imbedding fresh details. 

Part two is done and ready for launch. In fact, the whole story is done, all three hundred thousand plus words. Yeah ... I know ... obsess much you say? Anyway, below is a short history of how this story came to be. It's not long, just two pages and almost as interesting as the story I wrote ... well not quite. There is no sex in my brief history.

A few years back I worked as a temp at a company that specialized in harvesting information online for magazines and newspapers. I didn't do any of the harvesting. That was done by real pros with cool and expensive computers. My job was far less glamorous. Along with an army of other temps, I made digital files from typed documents and other non digital media on clunky old computers. Everyday for months, I came into the office, randomly picked a banker's box from stacks of them warehoused in the basement of the building, shlepped it upstairs and spent eight hours inputting information. It was as dull and mindless as it sounds but the pay was good. 

One day, I opened a box that focused on one person named Gwen Yoshimura (This is not the woman's real name, it's one I made up so don't bother Goggling). It was a little odd for a typical box was usually filled with unrelated bundles of material. The information on the woman was in three neat black d-ring binders. According to the material, Gwen Yoshimura lived in Hawaii and was an art major at a local university. There was a plastic sleeve filled with newspaper clippings of art shows Yoshimura participated in and a plastic box with compact disks each labeled G. Yoshimura in neat felt tip marker, numbered one to eleven. 

I did my job and scanned everyone of the sheets of paper in the D-ring binders, just over six hundred pages. I read a page here and there. Much that was written was highly sexual. The woman led an interesting life. I scanned the newspaper articles next. The last thing I did was down load all the info on the discs, reformatted it all and put everything together in one master file then took all the original stuff to a room to be recycled or destroyed.

This was a time before cloud storage and I was instructed to down load the information to a central storage computer and then make a temporary flash drive copy and assign it a bar code number. Just as I had finished slapped on the bar code to the flash drive, my boss came in and ordered all the temps to stop working. The word had just come down that the company had been sold and all temporary workers were to drop what they were doing, sign out and leave. I was barely given time to cleaned out my desk and within seconds of grabbing my coat I was standing in the parking lot with dozens of other unemployed temps.

A week later, while doing my laundry I discovered I had taken a company flash drive in my hasty exit. Worried that I had broken the law, I looked for the company on line to email them about what I had done. The company's website was shut down and I was directed to the website of the company that had bought them out. I sent the email there. They emailed back hours later asking for the bar code number on the drive. I emailed the number to them, convinced that I had walked off with something that was deemed highly classified and the FBI was on its way to my apartment in Reston, Virginia.

Hardly an hour later they shot me an email saying that the material on the drive was information gathered for a science article that was canceled and there was nothing classified or sensitive to worry about. They didn't even want it back and told me to just dispose of it.

Relieved that the FBI wasn't going to break down my door, I opened the files on the drive and discovered it was the stuff about Gwen Yoshimura the artist from Hawaii. There were countless documents, photos, letters and recorded emails. Much of the material was of Yoshimura's sexual exploits. Some parts read like a police report, cold and dispassionate, other parts read like a Penthouse Letter full of raunchy detail. The material was written by different people, some were friends of Yoshimura, a few were her lovers but most were outside observers. It seemed that a lot of people were watching her for some reason. 

I browsed through all the information on the drive and it didn't take long for a pattern to form. After days of arranging the material, I stitched together a time line of events, from the time line a rough narrative emerged, from that I knitted together Yoshimura's story that I titled Naked Portraits. 

I don't know how much of the information on the flash drive is true but it was all interesting. I had to imagine the emotional states and the day to day functions of the characters. I changed everyone's names so like I said before, don't bother Googling. If any of my made up names are of real people, it is unintentional and pure coincidence.

The story meanders and could easily be trimmed down but when I find a thread I like to pull at it until it gives out, so please forgive my indulgence in places. I will release the story in chunks every few weeks from here on out with fresh cometary, but I promise to be brief next time. I hope the people who have read the original Naked Portraits will find their way back.

Thanks,

Eagelwolf.

Introduction for part 2 

This one is brief so hang in there. First I'd like to thank my volunteer editor Boston. He is not a Literotica editor. He is a friend, an avid reader and a big fan of my story. He helps me to arrange the mush I write into something readable. He is not an English major and it won't offend him to point out obvious gaffs. He points them out to me all the time so it's only fair. Boston keeps telling me to pare down, streamline and reduce, but so far I have resisted. Maybe it's vanity, but mostly I don't want to leave anything out. Besides, everything I leave in has a lot of sex in it and isn't what Literotica it is all about? 

To get you up to speed, Gwen and Hawk hook up after Betty's disappearance. Gwen's art career takes a new turn and she starts a new friendship with Paul Gleason a fellow grad student. 

In part one, the story of Shelly and Minnie was a long aside but Shelly's story plays a role in part two so I left it whole. Shelly's story was based on broken up video snippets recorded on the flash drive. My editor and friend Boston, found the whole movie online after searching for a long time. My interpretation turned out way different from the obscure little movie. Boston liked my version more so I kept it as is. I hope you enjoy part two of Naked Portraits. Please leave comments at the end. I love hearing from readers.

Thanks,

Eagelwolf.

**********

Naked Portraits Part 2

Chapter 12

Deep in the Iao Valley: A Goddess

The rough trail ended abruptly on a high rock face overlooking the Iao stream below.

"This is nice," I said. Although to simply say that the lush Iao Valley rainforest on the island of Maui is nice is a gross understatement.

"Wait until you see this place at sunset, It's like something out of Lord of the Rings," Hawk said.

"We're a ways in," I said a bit troubled. "If we wait for sunset it'll be pitch black before we get out."

"It's the winter solstice. The shortest day of the year too," He added cheerfully.

"On purpose you picked the shortest day of the year to hike deep into Iao Valley? Lolo!" I was seriously worried for even with a clear trail, it will be hard going getting out in the dark and the way we had come could hardly be called a trail at all.

"Ready to pay up?" He asked with a dirty smile I have grown to recognize.

"Not now?" I moaned.

"A bet's a bet."

"You're such an asshole," I said as I pulled my shirt over my head, dropped my shorts, then quickly peeled off my sports bra and panties.

Hawk dropped his light backpack and whipped out his digital camera. He snapped several shots of me with the green Iao Valley cliffs as a backdrop.

A week ago on a Sunday, I proved that I knew nothing about pro football when I bet that the San Francisco 49ers would easily beat the San Diego chargers. My dad is a big 49er's fan and I knew that quarterback Steve Young would pound the Chargers into the turf. Then I found out that Steve Young had long retired and the current 49ers basically sucked and no longer a power house in the NFL. Needless to say, San Francisco got trounced.

"This isn't fair. You took advantage of my total lack of sports knowledge," I said with a pout, as I struck a pose.

"Yes I did," He agreed.

"This is two down."

"Uh Uh," he said, "You got naked back on the condo balcony without my prompting. Doesn't count, you owe me four more."

"I was drunk when I made the bet."

"Yes I know," He said with an unsympathetic dirty smile.

I closed my eyes and spun in a slow circle actually enjoying being naked outside. I opened my eyes to see the twinkling lights of the city of Honolulu spread before me. My skin crawled and my throat tightened.

"What you thinking?" Hawk asked.

I shut my eyes tight to control my building panic. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the rainforest. The hallucination was brief but intense.

"We should get back before it gets dark," I said doing my best to hide how freaked out I was. 

"No worries, I got it covered," He said with confidence.

He took me into his arms and kissed me. I shut my eyes. It was like he knew that I needed the comfort that came from his touch. It has been that way with him from the beginning, always doing just the right thing and making love to me perfectly ... every time.

Hesitantly, my eyes fluttered open. Thankfully I was still in Iao Valley. I frowned when I saw that Hawk was holding up the camera to click a shot of us kissing. His sneaky picture taking made me stop kissing to laugh and the laughter dispelled my panic of the weird hallucination. It was just a super strong feeling of deja vu, I thought allowing myself to reason it away.

I asked, "What are you doing with these photos?" 

"Sending them to a hot Asian girlfriends website," He said casually.

"I'll assume you're kidding," I said dryly, giving him a suspicious look as I dressed. 

"Want some ramen and a beer as we watch the sunset?" He asked.

"You hauled beer all the way in here?"

"No fucking way!" he said. "You did."

I frowned, picked up my light backpack unzipped it, rummaged through it and pulled out a ice pack with two cold, sweaty Sapporo beers in it.

"My grandfather thought me to never let someone else pack your backpack for you ... and your parachute." Hawk said with a crooked smile.

"If these weren't so beautiful, I would kick your ass," I said, pleased at the sight of the beers. "Now make my ramen with green onions, char sui pork and shoyu," I ordered. 

"You got it," Hawk said, still smiling.

"So where's the noodles then?" I asked, calling his bluff.

"It's in your front pouch."

My mouth dropped open. I pealed back the Velcro tabs on my pack, and sure enough, I found two packs of Nobo saimin noodles, another cold pack with thinly sliced cooked pork in it, two sturdy plastic bowls, fancy wood chopsticks in a wooden box, chopped green onions in a Ziploc bag, and several little packets of soy sauce. 

Oh my God, all of my favorites! I thought with glee. Then I said, "Hey asshole, what did you carry in?"

"The stove," he said. Nobo is my favorite brand because the noodles are moist precooked out of the package. I set up the bowls with the noodles on a stump under an ancient koa tree. Hawk filled each of the tall metal containers with water and aggressively twisted the bottom of each of the gunmetal cans, then he quickly set them on the stump next to the bowls. 

Within seconds, the water in the canisters came to a violent boil. Gingerly, Hawk picked up a canister by its red plastic handle and poured the hot water into one of the bowls of noodles. 

The savory smell of pork broth greeted my nose making my mouth water. Hawk deftly sprinkled chopped green onions and arranged several slices of pork over the top of the noodles. He repeated the process with the other bowl.

"As the lady ordered," He said with a smug smile.

We sat near the edge of the rock fall under a huge old koa and ate our clever little meal with chopsticks and drank the deliciously cold beer. Although the sun was long out of view on the other side of the West Maui Mountains, it still put on a spectacular show with the clouds overhead. A golden glow infused the whole valley that slowly turned orange with each passing minute. It all seemed so magical; if a dragon suddenly flew by overhead I wouldn't have been surprised.

"You're right, it is like something out of Lord of the Rings," I whispered in awe.

Then it started getting dark fast. We rounded up the trash from our dinner and packed it all in our backpacks. Hawk produced two small flashlights and passed me one.

"We won't need them for an hour at least," He said as we started our slow, careful walk back. "Fucking Mosquitoes," he cursed and slapped at his cheek. "How come they aren't feasting on you?"

"I have supernatural powers," I let him know.

"I always knew you were a goddess," He said deadpan, as we walked along the rough path.

I liked the idea of being a goddess, but alas my power of dispelling mosquitoes was far from divine. The combination of the shampoo and body lotion I used repelled the insects. It was Betty who had turned me on to the unintended properties of the two products a couple of years ago. I kept all that to myself though allowing my lover to ponder my incredible powers of wild beasts.

Lover ... The word floated in my head spinning in slow motion. Do I love him? Hawk and I have been together for three months now and I figured that when the sex cooled down this thing would end. But to date, the sex showed no signs of cooling down. I had no idea how Hawk felt about all this either. The man has proved very elusive when it came to the his deepest feelings, plus I felt like he was holding something back. It always feels like he wants to tell me something every time he looks into my eyes. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize he had stopped walking and plowed into his back.

"What's the matter?" I asked. 

He clicked on his flashlight. I clicked mine on too.

"You see that?" He said pointing ahead of us.

I squinted and reached to adjust my glasses then felt stupid when I didn't find them on my face. Lately, I've taken to wearing my contacts. Up ahead I saw a soft greenish glow coming through the trees. A chill ran through me as my mind instantly went to the countless ghost stories attached to the Iao Valley. Clamping down on my animal instinct to flee, I stepped pass Hawk to get a better look but grabbed his shirt to pull him in close at the same time.

"It's a person," Hawk whispered.

I nodded for I saw a person too but he or she was too still.

"It's got to be a mannequin or statue," I said, fairly certain but not entirely confident. 

With flashlights illuminating the dark path, we stumbled closer. Sure enough, as we emerged through a tangle of foliage into a clearing under some trees, we saw a life size carving of a woman in wood painted with glow-in-the-dark paint. The face was Hawaiian, the figure full and voluptuous, the pose classic Greek contrapposto; the right foot slightly forwards and all her weight on the back foot.

"This chick is well off the beaten path." I whispered. The part of me that has seen too many horror movies expected the thing to reach out for me at any second.

"Why the glow paint?" Hawk asked. "How often do people travel this deep in the valley at night?"

"This is eerie," I agreed.

"Look," Hawk said. His flashlight beam shone on a long paddle shaped leaf resting at the feet of the carved figure. On the leaf was a square object wrapped in more leaf. "This is an active worship site. The offering looks fresh maybe dropped off today."

My flashlight beam traveled over the carving and I marveled at its intricacy; the muscle tone perfect and life like. Whoever did it was no amateur. I clicked off my flashlight. Hawk did the same. Freshly energized by our flashlight beams the statue glowed brighter. 

Bathed in the weak eerie green glow Hawk whispered, "This is so weird."

"The carving style is western modern with no hint of Pacific Island," I said recalling years of pacific art history lessons. "It's more like a Greek Kouros."

"Isn't a Kouros usually male?"

I shrugged for I didn't know the answer to that.

Hawk stood behind me with his hands on my upper arm. "Your all goose bumpy," he said.

"We call it chicken skin," I said as every inch of my skin rippled. 

"This is an active worship sight," Hawk said seriously, "We shouldn't disturb anything."

"I want to make an offering," I said.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes I'm serious. Finding her was near zero. This is fate." I set my brain at preparing an offering.

"I saw some ti leaves back there," Hawk said and wandered off to find them. I was still running an inventory through my head of what I had to offer when Hawk returned with two long paddle shaped green leaves.

"Your hair," He whispered.

I grabbed at my hair, thinking he saw a spider or something.

"Give some of your hair," He clarified. He fumbled around in his backpack and produced the long wooden box that the chopsticks for our noodle dinner came in. "Put it in this," The box was bright red with the name of the company in black and gold Japanese characters. It slid open like a matchbox.

"Spirit Woods," I translated as I emptied the chopsticks into the front pouch of my backpack. Hawk handed me his pocketknife and I cut a small length of my hair and I put it in the box. "Need more," I said as I took the knife and made a small cut in the palm of my left hand.

"Jesus Gwen! Have you flipped?" Hawk said surprised by my move.

Ignoring him, I squeezed my hand into a fist and watch a trickle of blood drop onto the hair in the box. 

"Lolo," Hawk said as he made me open my hand and tied his handkerchief around the cut. I still found it charming and old fashion that he carried those things around. 

"Still need more," I said, "drop your pants."

Chapter 13

The Sprite Wood Offering

"What you say Japanee girl?" Hawk asked.

"You heard me, drop your pants."

"No way. You're not gonna cut me anywhere down there," He said adamantly.

"I'm not going to cut you haole boy," I said as I handed the knife back to him. I dropped to my knees in front of him and started to unbuckle the belt on his cargo pants.

"You do know that you're exposing the only part of my body not bitten by mosquitoes," he said but made no move to stop me. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 02



I handed him the chopstick box to hold then took his penis in my hands and smiled as I watched him go from semi-erect to fully hard within seconds.

"I want some of your semen for the offering," I explained.

"And why pray tell? " He asked.

"Hair, blood and semen should make for a powerful offering," I said, as I started to stroke his erection. I had no idea if that were true or not but it sounded reasonable. Hawk shone his flashlight down on me to illuminate my actions. As I stroked his eager erection, twinges of doubt surfaced in my head and I said, "Perhaps this is kind of ... you know ... disrespectful?"

"I wouldn't worry," he said.

"You just don't want me to stop," I said with a light laugh. 

My eyes rolled up to the glow in the dark statue that seem to be looking down at me. Fresh desire flushed through me and my eyes went to Hawk's face. I said, "Don't hold back. Come in my mouth." I engulfed him and my passion grew as I worked him with my mouth and hands. I stopped and stood up.

"Change your mind?" Hawk asked, clearly disappointed.

"No, just my tactics." 

I unsnapped my jeans then pulled them down along with my panties to my ankles. I picked a clear spot in front of the statue and got on all fours on the soft damp leaf strewn ground. Hawk didn't say a thing as he pushed his cargos to mid-thigh, knelt behind me and entered me.

"I want you to still come in my mouth though," I said.

"You the boss," He returned cheerfully.

"That I am," I agreed, "The pussy, not the lion, rules in this jungle."

As Hawk moved in and out of me, I looked up to the voluptuous carving in front of me. A trick of the light (or lack of it) made it look as if the statue was bending slightly to watch the mortals at her feet perform the age old activity. "Oh shit this is good!" I expressed loudly as my pleasure built. Making love with Hawk always took me to the edge of perfection. Before Hawk, I was a quiet lover, but now I loved to make noise, scream out, cuss and swear. I closed my eyes to noisily greet the coming orgasm ... 

... then I was under water, literally it seemed. In slow motion I turned and found myself face to face with a short haired Asian girl, blue and beautiful like a mermaid but with legs, no fishtail. Bizarrely she pointed a camera at me. With a frantic look around, I saw I was in large swimming pool and the bluish glow came from underwater lights along the edge of the pool. Suddenly, the camera fell from the blue girl's hands. Watching the camera slowly drop to the pool floor filled me with dismay so I made a move to catch it. But blue girl grabbed me and pulled me toward her. Oh-my-God she's going to kiss me I thought with panic ... and anticipation.

My orgasm arrived and my eyes flew open, I was in the dark clearing again with the glow in the dark goddess looking down at me. My eyes rolled up to her and I was sure she had something to do with the weird hallucination. 

I screamed out a single word, "Goddess!" 

"Here it comes!" Hawk announced with urgency.

Lost in the throes of my orgasm, not to mention my watery hallucination, I barely heard him speak as he rudely pulled out of me. Confused, I sat on the leafy ground on my naked butt. Hawk gripped his hard on and touched the tip to my closed mouth. Why the hell is he doing that? I wondered. Then I remembered the offering just as a wet jet of moisture sprayed my closed lips.

"Shit!" I barked with a crazed laugh then covered Hawk's spewing organ to contain the rest of his emissions. The stuff filled my mouth, some oozed out to mingle with the mess already on my chin. I motioned frantically. Hawk handed me the chopstick box then clicked on his flashlight to illuminate me drooling my full mouth over the hair and blood.

He moved the focus of his flashlight from the box to my face. He liked seeing the mess he had created there. I allowed him a few more seconds of dirty male joy then I wiping my mouth and neck clean with the handkerchief tied to my hand then I slid the chopstick box lid shut and handed it back to him. 

He pulled me to my feet with a gentleman's hand. I dusted leaves and dirt from my knees; he took it upon himself to dust off my ass. I pulled my pants and panties back into place. Hawk dressed too. Then I held the flashlight for him as he deftly wrap and tied the chopstick box in one of the ti leaves. 

"You do that like a shaman," I said, impressed.

"It's amazing the things one learns out in the field," He said as he handed me the neat little green package. He placed the other paddle shaped ti leaf on the ground before the carving for me to place my offering on.

"Now what?" Hawk asked.

"We go home, but first I need to find out who is the artist that did the carving," I said, as I turned my flashlight on. The one thing that I understand most in the world is an artist's vanity and no artist worth his or her spit would leave this gorgeous work of art unsigned. After a minute of searching, I found what I was looking for. painted around the belly button was an odd symbol, a circle with a hand at its center. I smiled at the find. Then a strange feeling enveloped me and I quickly pointed my flashlight into the surrounding darkness.

"What?" Hawk asked, with alarm as he too, scanned the darkness with his flashlight.

"Someone's watching us," I whispered. 

A sudden shrilling sound cut through the darkness and I let out a scream before I realized it was my cell phone in my my pocket.

"Shit!" Hawk barked then followed with a tension-releasing laugh.

"Sorry," I said and quickly dug my phone out. I frowned for I didn't recognize the Honolulu number. "Hello?" I said answering the call.

After a short pause a soft female voice in a strange flat accent that sounded foreign said. "Is this Miss Takahashi?"

"Who?" I asked.

The line went dead.

"Wrong number," I told Hawk and noted the time on my phone at 7:37. Way too late to be wandering the Iao rainforest.

"We better get going," Hawk said.

I nodded for the weird feeling of being watched from the darkness made me want to move too. I took one last look at the forest goddess then followed Hawk out of the clearing.

***

Hawk drove us to the Kihei condo that belonged to his surfer friend Professor Piedmont. He steered with his left hand as his left arm gripped me around my shoulders pulling me in close. He seem to know that I needed the comfort of his touch. I considered telling him about my strange visions back in the valley, but with the electric lights of civilization around me, and with each passing minute, the details become fuzzy and indistinct like a dream. I didn't say a thing keeping it all to myself.

Chapter 14

Figuratively Speaking

The still life set up in the middle of the room gleamed with its many mirrored surfaces. At the center was a silver tea set complete with teapot, teacups and saucers. An old style square toaster and an even older beaten up percolator coffee pot flanked the tea set on the right side. A particularly ugly chrome punch bowl dominated the left. 

I felt sorry for the beginners drawing class at having to endure such an uninspiring still life. The students didn't seem to see it that way though and went at it with rookie enthusiasm. How I longed for those simple times when drawing a still life was enough to appease the artistic gods. 

Gods ... goddess ... That random little thought made me thing about my odd encounter with the forest goddess back on Maui.

I forced myself back to the real world for it was Thursday, and I was earning my work study paycheck as an assistant to the instructor for the beginners drawing class. Along with the instructor, I walked around the room checking student progress. One student had started in with the reflections on the tea set. He was doing a credible job but unfortunately, his perspective was way off.

"You have to remember the perspective ellipse assignment, "I said to him. "If you don't, all your hard work with the shadows and reflections will be a waste." I took the piece of soft vine charcoal from his hand and corrected the upper ellipses of one of the teacups in the guy's drawing. "Check all your ellipses in relation to the horizon line before getting lost in details." I handed the charcoal back to him and our hands touched and something akin to a static electric shock made me pull my hand back. Along with the spark came a sudden and powerful sexual attraction to the guy. I looked in the guy's face. He must have felt it too for he looked a bit bewildered too. 

Frowning, I walked away a little shaken.

For the rest of the class, I kept checking the guy out. He was as tall as Hawk but skinny with longish greasy brown hair. A thin scruffy beard darkened his cheeks, chin and upper lip. He wore a long-sleeved cotton flannel shirt, desert camouflaged cargo shorts and dirty socks and sneakers. His overall appearance screamed mainland grunge. He looked like a skinny Silent Bob from the movie Clerks.

After class, I put my unexplained attraction for grunge rejects aside and went to my studio to focus on some serious painting. The moment I opened my grad studio door, my mood darkened. For the life of me I couldn't recall what inspired the piece of shit sitting on my easel. I closed the door and stared at a painting of crisscrossing cool gray bands, a third in a serious of them. I Grunted my dissatisfaction and spent the next hour applying red vertical stripes among the gray with a force of will but all I had at the end was a pointless drab painting with red vertical lines.

"Fuck you," I barked and flung a paint rag at the canvas causing it to topple forward off the easel. I put a hand out, caught it and pushed it back into place leaving a smeared red hand print at its center. I snorted a laugh at the hand print because it was the most interesting thing to happen to one of my paintings all week. In defiance, I slapped my hand over the smudged impression and traced it with a brush full of black. I added more red to the hand print to solidify the shape and then painted a black circle around the red hand. 

As I cleaned paint from my hand with a rag, I looked at my watch; it was almost one o'clock. I had burned two hours of my precious personal studio time and all I had to show was a black outlined hand print. And it was time for Hawaiian art History. Oh joy of joys. A root canal sounded more appealing. I don't mind the subject, it was the instructor Mr. Jenkins that bored me to tears. Why was some old boring haole guy teaching a class on Hawaiian art history anyway? I groused not for the first time.

After making sure that my studio door was locked, I pulled out my nude self-portrait painting. 

"Hey Shelly," I said aloud.

Weirdly, raw emotion bubbled in my chest and I found myself close to tears. 

What's that all about? I wondered. 

I wanted to paint but not in my cramped little studio. I threw together some basic painting supplies, grabbed a blank 24 x 36 primed sheet of chip board and headed to the painting department to the life painting class that was just starting.

I peeped in and asked the nearest student, a chubby local girl, "Who is the model today?" 

"Don't know, today starts a new pose," the girl answered.

I nodded and stepped in. A new pose meant that I wouldn't be stealing a claimed spot. As I entered the room, my paint encrusted jeans told all that I was a grad and people parted to allow me to setup where I pleased. We painter grads are the rock stars of the painting department and I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the reputation.

The life painting instructor, Den Kang, a diminutive, elderly Asian man entered the room. We grads dubbed him Emperor Kang calling his reign here at the university the Kang Dynasty. Professor Kang was respected and feared in the art department. Even my mentor, Erma Beaumont, the head of the painting department kept out of Kang's path. Beaumont and Kang were artistic opposites. Beaumont is old guard abstract expressionist, Kang a sixties figurative painter in love with the female nude. The naturally hated each other and the animosity between the two painting instructors is legend in the halls of 2D representation.

Kang's intense brown eyes immediately fell on me. "You're Beaumont's girl," He said, not as a question but a statement, or more like an accusation.

I nodded, positive that he was going to embarrass me in front of everyone by demanding that I give up the prime spot I had claimed or even worst, leave. He didn't though, and went to instruct the model who had just entered the room for the day's pose.

Relieved, I finished setting up my painting station. When I next looked up, the model stood on the posing platform fully naked. The guy was blond, classically cut, achingly beautifully and impressively hung to boot. His flaccid pale circumcised penis swayed left to right hypnotically as he moved into place following Professor Kangs's instructions. 

I wondered if I were the only one imagining how big he'd be fully erect. The booming voice of Emperor Kang popped me out of my crass meanderings.

"Everyone get to work!"

The pose was a simple standing contrapposto; weight on one foot, arms to the side. The pose made me think of the forest goddess on Maui. I set up quickly and painted at a furious pace because I knew that this would probably be the only day I could come. On top of my urgency, raw emotion frothed just under the skin added to my artistic attack. I didn't come up for air until the model's first break one hour later.

As I sipped a soda admiring my work, I heard a soft laugh behind me. I turned to see a beautiful Asian woman dressed in black slacks and a black top seated at a drawing bench behind me. It took me a second but I found her name, Meka Okuda, an art history graduate known for her photography skills. 

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"I think I'm copying your painting more than working from the model." Meka said. 

She got up from her drawing bench to stretch. I marveled at her height at 5'10, maybe more. Although her face looked pure Japanese, the height and spectacular curvy figure certainly spoke of other ancestry. None of the Japanese girls I knew had an amazing body like Meka. Well, at least the ones in my family didn't anyway. 

Meka casually fiddled with a handful of her long, glossy wavy hair (another thing enviable about her) as she looked at my painting. I walked over to peep at her drawing.

"You're channeling Michelangelo's David." I said.

"Apparently so are you, but your David has a bigger dick than Mike's," she said. 

I frowned and looked at my painting and immediately saw that she was right. The pose, the model's pale skin, and blond curly hair led me right to the famous Michelangelo carving. I blushed a little at the loving detail I had put into painting the models substantial phallus.

"You taking this class?" I asked her.

"Nah. Just slumming. It's nice to get down and dirty with primitive burnt sticks." She held up an absolutely filthy blackened hand to prove her point. She had a smudge of charcoal on her forehead and the side of her nose too.

The model returned and disrobed. Instructor Kang clapped his hands and everyone got back to work. I squeezed out an excessive amount of titanium white onto my palette and spent the next hour making the figure look more like a carved statue.

"Jesus girl, you possessed or what?" Meka asked in awe at the next scheduled break.

I turned to look at her, surprised she was still there.

"You paint like each stroke is your last," she said. "I took some pictures. You okay with that?"

I noted the camera around her neck and gave an indifferent shrug. Meka stepped in close to the painting and snapped a few more shots.

"The face is all wrong," Meka said.

"I was thinking of my boyfriend, he's blond too," I said.

"That his dick too?" Meka asked taking an obvious close up of my figure's big penis.

Yes I thought but kept that to myself. 

Professor Kang appeared beside Meka and looked at my painting with a sneer. He waved at it and said, "This is very good," then walked away.

"That was interesting," Meka said.

I nodded for we both knew that I had received a huge compliment. Kang is infamous in the painting department for hardly ever giving out compliments to his students.

"Sounded like he's courting you away from Beaumont," Meka said. 

I assumed that she had heard Kang tagging me as a Beaumont minion. "No fucking way. Changing horses half way through my grad studies would be portfolio suicide," I said seriously.

"Then you better stop haunting the life painting class," Meka said. "Erma Beaumont has ears everywhere." She shouldered her bag and grabbed her drawing board. "Gotta go. My grad studio is three ninety eight. Look me up if you want to see the photos of you at work."

I watched her leave and then I looked back at my David.

"No fucking way, abstraction is my calling," I whispered.

I packed up my art stuff, racked my painting and went to my late afternoon class on French post-modernism. As the lecture dragged on, I longed to see David again. A new painting that I'm happy with is like a fresh love affair. The moment the class let out, I retrieved David from the figure painting class, took him to my studio and swapped him out for the gray useless mess with the red hand print outlined in black then pulled naked Shelly out from her secret corner and put her on the floor near David so I could see both.

"David, Shelly. Shelly, David," I said in introduction.

You are one surfboard short of being Hawk, I thought as I studied David. 

A smile widened on my face as an idea formed. I left my studio and made a beeline to anthropology and entered the building where Hawk's office was. I knew he taught an anthropology 101 class at this hour and wouldn't be in. I also knew he never locked his office door so I slipped in, went straight to his desk and pulled out the spare keys to his Bronco then I went out to the anthropology's loading dock where the Bronco was parked and liberated Hawk's surfboard.

I got a lot of interested stares as I trotted back to the art department with the surfboard under my arm. In the stairwell up to my studio I ran into Erma Beaumont my chief adviser and the head of the painting department.

"Surf's up?" She asked, amused.

I laughed. "No just inspiration for a painting."

"Yes I've heard about your adventures in the figurative," Erma said casually.

I moaned internally wondering who ratted on me. I suspect that Paul Gleason had let slip to the wrong person about Shelly's New Dance. Or maybe it was Meka Okuda how had ratted me out. Panic gripped my chest as I thought of Shelly and David sitting out in the open in my studio one floor up. What if Erma asked to go to my studio? It was stupid to think that of course because she has never made such a request in all my years with her. But still I panicked for there was no way I could justify two figure paintings not to mention the fact that Shelly was clearly a life size nude of me. 

"I overheard Kang praising your work today," Beaumont said.

I found my rat and made a mental apology to Paul and the Okuda girl. Professor Kang's contempt for modernists like Beaumont held no bounds and he must have gone out of his way to let her know that one of her star pupils was breaking her rules. With a smile that came nowhere near her eyes, the 69 year-old Erma Beaumont walked passed me as she continued her decent down the stairwell.

Chapter 15

Hardly Studying

Because of his four year contract with the university, Hawk was allotted an apartment in faculty housing but he gave it up to a fellow guest instructor with a wife and child. He resides in the top floor of one of the dorm towers reserved for advanced grad students. I was glad for his chivalry because it was less awkward spending the night here in the dorm towers than it would have been at faculty housing. It worried me that he would get into trouble for dating a student but he assured me that no one would turn a head. He says that students and instructors have been getting it on from the beginning of time, plus we were close in age and I was a graduate student from a wholly different department. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 02



Still I worried. 

After putting the final touches on a ridiculously long sentence theorizing at how the bands of color in a Mark Rothko painting represented the human figure, I let out a heavy sigh. I knew that my modernist leaning art history teacher would torpedo my theory long before it left the harbor. Rothko invoking the figure? Implausible! And also treason according to Erma Beaumont. 

The thought of my mentor filled me with dread. Treason is right; my next portfolio review is going to be a nightmare because of Kang. Plus I haven't done a new abstract painting in months worth spitting on. 

I stretched my naked body, adjusted my glasses and spun in Hawk's big padded office chair. Hawk, also naked, laid on one of the two beds in the wedge shaped room reading an anthropology journal. His big penis rested across one thigh in a rare state of inactivity. I toyed with the idea of wheeling over to touch it just to watch him grow and stiffen. But I had made a promise that I would not bug him until he was done reading his journals. Unable to work on my dull paper anymore, I reached for my tattered sketch journal to do a sketch of Hawk's beautiful reclining form.

As I searched for a blank page, I happened upon a drawing I'd done a month ago of the forest goddess statue on Maui. I warmly recalling how Hawk took me from behind under the wooden eyes of the statue. We had repeated the performance back at the Kihie condo that same night. He took me from behind standing on the condo balcony as I gripped the railing. In the after glow I had drawn the goddess from memory. 

I stretched again and closed my eyes and had a very weird vivid vision of me kneeling before two rock hard cocks. I snapped my eyes open and looked down at the sketch of the forest goddess in my lap. The head seem to move and I yelped. The sketchbook slid off my lap and dropped face up on the floor. 

"You okay?" Hawk asked peeping over the top of his reading.

"Um, yeah," I said staring down at the open sketchbook at my feet. 

It was a trick of the light caused from hours of staring at a computer screen I reasoned ignoring the fact that this kind of thing has been happening too often lately. We Japanese locals are masters at denial. To add more distance to worrying thoughts, I focus on the idea of two cocks. And what's up with that? I wondered unable to explain that away as a trick of tired eyes.

"You ever did a group sex thing like a threesome?" I asked Hawk. 

"You made a promise to let me read so stop it okay?" Hawk warned.

I spun in the office chair and after two full rotations, I stopped to face him.

"Well have you?" I persisted.

His penis twitched giving me my answer.

"You have," I accused and wheeled closer to him. "I wanna hear, tell me." 

He didn't respond and hid his face from view with his reading. 

"No sense hiding. Mr. Happy has already given you away."

"This studying naked is such a bad idea." he said. 

"This was your idea stupid head," I reminded him.

Ignoring my comment, he sat up and cleared his throat. "It was only one time back in California after my first year of grad school," he said and told me the tale.

Chapter 16

Hawk and Anna 

Hawk drove home to his upscale San Diego neighborhood of Mission Hills relieved that his first year of graduate school was finally behind him. Three years ago he had declared himself a business major just to annoy his parents, mainly his mother. He smiled treasuring the memory of his mom spitting fire when he told her he was forsaking the family calling to the sciences for business school. Lately though, he was having some misgivings about his decision and was seriously considering changing to anthropology. You win mom for the call of science colors my blood. .

His cell phone rang. Speak of the devil. 

"Hey baby," Olivia Derrick-Heinz said. "I have a new assistant staying in the pool house. When you get home, go knock on her door, introduce yourself, and then drive her to the market or anywhere else she may need to go. The poor dear can't handle southern California traffic." 

Hawk rolled his eyes. His plans were to meet up with some buddies, go over to the local surfboard shop, get geared up and hit the water. The thought of spending his first day of freedom driving one of his mom's math geeks around town sucked big time.

He took a deep breath and said in a firm voice, "Sure mom happy to." He wasn't being a good obedient son, just a practical one because his mother always got her way in the end. 

"Thank you sweetie and don't embarrass me by telling her you're a business major," Olivia said. "Say something more worthy like poetry or philosophy, basket weaving even." On that note of disapproval she ended the call. 

With a big sigh that mutated into a scream, he gunned his Jetta south. One hour later he parked the car in his parent's circular driveway. Seething with impotent anger, he grabbed his stuff, entered the house and headed up stairs. He dropped his bags on the floor of his room then dashed out into the hallway at full speed. If he could get things done with the math geek fast enough he might still have some time to hang with his friends and maybe even catch a few waves before the sun went down. 

In the hall, he smacked into someone coming out of the bathroom near his room. It was a woman and she let out a small scream and stumbled. He reached out to keep her from falling over and came away with a cream-colored bath towel. Standing before him was a tall beautiful and totally naked redheaded woman. 

"Olivia and Herman are my parents, I live here!" he blurted out before she started to scream for help. 

She didn't scream and she said in a heavy English accent "You must be Hawk. I'm Anna Grayson your mother's assistant for the new science wing at the University," 

The woman's beauty trumped polite decorum and he blatantly stared speechless holding the towel. She was slim with athletic arms and legs, pleasing b-cup breasts and a narrow waist giving her a classic hourglass shape. The triangle of hair between her legs was as red as the hair on her head. In her bare feet, she looked close to his height at six feet; every inch of her was covered in faint freckles. Her beautiful face was classic Gaelic with high cheekbones, full lips, and the most incredible green eyes he'd ever seen on a human being. 

Still speechless, he held the towel out for her but she didn't take it and instead walked past him to the guestroom door one down from his room. His eyes locked on her slim freckled ass until she disappeared into the room closing the door behind her. He stood paralyzed, holding the damp towel staring at the closed door. He lifted the towel to his face and inhaled a musky feminine soap. Breaking his paralysis, he walked to the guestroom door. 

"My mom said you needed to do some shopping?" He cringed at saying my mom but bulled on. "I'll be happy to drive?"

"That would be brilliant," Anna Grayson called. 

"I'll be in the kitchen? Down stairs, waiting okay? Um, you're towel's hanging on the doorknob."

After a brief pause she answered, "All right." Her voice was loud and clear for she seamed to be standing just on the other side of the closed door. 

Not wanting to totally creep the woman out, Hawk went down stairs to wait in the kitchen. As he waited, he willed the erection in his jean to go away. It turned out to be a pointless exercise because his hardon quickly returned when Anna entered the kitchen. It didn't matter that she was dressed in slightly baggy jeans and a bulky sweatshirt for the memory of her nakedness was burned permanently onto his frontal cortex. She wore no makeup that he could see and her damp red hair hung down to her shoulders. She beamed him a sweet smile that gave him goosebumps.

"Workmen are putting in tile in the pool house bath so I came to the big house to shower," Anna said in her sexy accent. "Sorry for the exhibitionism. I've always used bravado to cover up embarrassment." She walked over to the refrigerator, opened it and suddenly laughed, a sound Hawk could easily get used to. "You probably think I'm an idiot hussy." 

"No not at all," He said seriously. 

"Liar," she said and laughed again giving him great joy that he was the cause of her merriment. She closed the fridge door, walked back to the counter and poured herself some orange juice. "My list is quit extensive," she said, "and I don't want to take up your time. I could hire a taxi, your mother will cover the expense I'm sure." 

"No really, no trouble." Hawk said failing miserably at sounding casual. He had already mentally rearranged his calendar (and his entire life if need be) to accommodate the needs to this disarmingly beautiful woman.

*****

For the next month, Hawk made sure he was available to chauffeur Ms. Grayson about town. It seriously cut into his surfing time but a man must make sacrifices in life. His surfing friends absolutely understood after getting a glimpse of her at a beach outing a few weeks down the line. Hawk, always the gentleman, never told his friends of the Anna's nude introduction. 

With each jaunt, Hawk learned something new about the woman: she was addicted to running and did five miles a day, she liked black tea piping hot and finds the idea of iced tea repulsive, loves authentic Mexican cooking, American police dramas and tennis. She finished her masters in mathematics at twenty-eight. 

"That's young but not too young," she told him. "There were two individuals under twenty that received their masters along with me." 

Hawk's mother recruited her along with a few dozen others from all over the world to help bolster Southern California Institute of Technology's prestige. At the time Hawk's mother was on a big campaign to woo Imperial Industries to SCIT the biggest and most serious civilian company in the space race. His mother, of course got the gig.

On a grocery run Hawk asked, "How did you become my mother's personal assistant?" 

"First of all for my math skills," Anna said. "Olivia's math skills are good but mine's are far better." 

"You're being kind," he said. "As a reluctant business major, I'm better at numbers than my mom the physicist." 

She laughed. 

"But math is not what your mother is about is it? Her genius is putting people together that create results. We call her the match maker." Anna sung a few lines from the Fiddler on the Roof song staying impressively on tune. 

Hawk pushed the grocery cart and followed Anna to the fruits and vegetables.

As she critically studied a pair of green bell peppers she said, "One of the reasons your mother hired me as her personal assistant is that I'm beautiful." She put one pepper back and bagged the winner. 

"You saying that my mom's a lesbian?" Hawk joked.

"No silly, the world of higher mathematics is dominated by small troll like little men and many are easily blinded by beauty. I know my numbers and I look like a supermodel. Your mother swings me like a spiked mace at her enemies." 

"You hate her for that?" He asked because he resented the way his mother paraded him around like a prize show dog sometimes too. 

She smiled. "No, I like rattling the powers that be. I have an effect on people, I've known that long before your mother thought to swing me at the metaphorical heads of SCIT." They moved on to the alliums and as she filled a plastic bag with small yellow onions she said, "You're attracted to me." 

It was a flat statement, not a question. 

Hawk heart kicked into high gear, but he played it cool, not saying one way or the other. 

"You have no chance with me you know?" She said as she spun her bag of selected onions and deftly sealed it with a twist tie. She looked at him with those amazing green eyes. "You are very attractive and charming but way too young and your mother is my employer." 

Hawk hoped that his deep disappointment didn't show too much on his face. 

They finished the shopping trip in relative quiet and Hawk drove her back to the pool house then helped her unload the food. With a polite goodbye he made to leave so he could find some place private to lick his wounds.

Anna, responding to his apparent dejection, said, "We can be friends?" 

He gave her a brave smile and said, "I can think of worse things." 

She walked up to him and kissed his cheek. Her green eyes fixed on him for a few seconds. She frowned then said, "Stay, I'll make you dinner." 

"As a friend I accept," he said happy for the invitation even though it was clearly emotional charity. 

Over a teriyaki meat stir-fry made with the fresh groceries she just bought and cold Coronas, they talked about everything and nothing.

Four Coronas into the meal Anna said, "You and I are a lot alike. We're both beautiful and we use our God given good looks to get by in life." 

Hawk could have easily denied it, but since it were true, he didn't. "I think you've had too many beers Miss Grayson," he teased. 

"Perhaps, Mr. Heinz." she said then took a drink of her beer finishing it making it.

Their eyes locked, and like a door suddenly opened onto a roaring furnace, he felt the sexual heat coming from her. He quickly got up, went to the fridge to get more beer to stoke the fire. He popped two beers with the bottle opener on the kitchen table then hydroplaned one in her direction. She snatched it up and reached for a lime wedge from a bowl on the table. She squeezed a lime wedge over the rim, lick the palm of her right hand, sprinkled salt on it, then liberally applied the salt to the shaft of her beer bottle. She lifted the beer to her mouth, took a long deep swig then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Their eyes locked again and she gave him a crooked smile. 

"I get turned on when men watch me, especially when they think I don't know I'm being watched. I also like it when they know that I know that they are watching." 

That made no sense whatsoever to Hawk but he was greatly intrigued by the topic. 

Anna laughed. She leaned in close and said, "You want to watch?" 

Taken by surprise by her vague but interesting offer he said, "I though we couldn't be lovers?" Then he cringed for saying such a stupid thing. 

"We won't be. You're not allowed to touch me only watch." 

"Watch what?" He asked. His penis was way ahead of his brain having stirred into action before the start of dinner. But that didn't count for much. Mr. Happy had been standing at solid attention ever since the nude hallway incident months back. 

Anna laughed again, got up from the table and beckoned for Hawk to follow. Not being a fool, he did. As she walked them through the living room she pulled her shirt over her head to expose a maroon sports bra beneath. She paused briefly to slid her gym shorts down to her ankles and kicked them aside. Her panties were white cotton. Transfixed on her wonderful ass, he followed her to the pool house's spacious bathroom.

As he watched her turn on the shower in the recently tiled shower stall, a strange pressure pushed at the inside of his skull making all this seem unreal like he was dreaming. He reasoned the odd feeling away as old fashion testosterone overload. She walked to the mirror, got a hairbrush, and started to brush her long red hair that always seemed on the edge going wild when she wore it long.

Hawk moved from the doorway and stood slightly behind her so that he could see her in the mirror but still allowed for a nice view her perfect backside. She put down the brush and pulled the sports bra over her head exposing her freckled chest. Her small nipples and aureoles were the same coppery red color as the darkest freckles on her shoulders and arms. 

Facing the mirror with her back still to him, she casually slid the white panties to the floor. Hawk took in her naked ass and then focused in on her wiry red bush in the mirror recalling the countless wet nights since that brief viewing of her in the hallway of the big house. 

Anna stepped into the shower leaving the door open for his viewing. He marveled at the spectacular contrast of her red hair and pale skin against the deep aquamarine tiles surrounding her. He watched her wash herself for ten minutes; although he couldn't honestly say how long she showered. Time had slowed for him in his state of hormonal overload. He was so hyped that he tracked a splash of water from her chin to floor as if it moved in slow motion.

She turned off the water, stepped out of the stall and dried herself casually with a big fluffy towel. After putting the towel aside, she walked passed him and out of the steamy bathroom. He followed her into the bedroom and watched her put on fresh light blue panties, a matching tiny bra, a tight sexy black skirt and a white long sleeve shirt. She sat on the bed and dried her hair with a noisy hairdryer. Her long red hair took on a life of its own as it dried. After putting aside the dryer she did her best to tame her mass of hair with a black hair band. She got out a silver metal tube from a small handbag and with a small compact mirror, applied pale pink lipstick to her mouth. The last thing she put on was a pair of understated silver earrings shaped like raindrops or perhaps tears. She assessed herself in the dresser mirror. He could have saved her the trouble and told her she was absolutely perfect.

The rumble of an expensive sounding sports car came from outside. Anna went to the living room window and pushed aside the curtain. She turned and looked Hawk in the eye for the first time since the kitchen and said, "I'm going out to a film with a friend. Lock up for me when you leave." She walked up to him, kissed his cheek and left the pool house. 

Hawk heard the car rev and zoom away with a slight squeal of tires. He stood frozen for a long time. Then he went to the shower, got naked, turned on the water as hot as he could bare and stroked his neglected erection to a huge messy climax on the shower tiles. 

***

A little after one in the morning, Hawk heard the rumble of the car that had picked Anna up for her date. Ten minutes later, his cell rang. It was Anna. 

"Saw your light on, thought I'd ring," she said on the other end. Hawk got up and went to his bedroom window that overlooked the pool and the pool house. He saw her standing at her living room window. She waved and he waved back. "We need to talk. Come by at nine-tomorrow morning. I should be done with my run by then." 

"Okay." 

She ended the call, waved again then moved away from the window. 

Hawk guessed that she had sobered up and was seriously regretting their little encounter. The vision of her naked, freckled body in the shower surrounded by blue green tiles got him up again. For the sixth time that day since Anna had left him alone in the pool house, he stroked himself to personal bliss. 

***

Two minutes after nine in the morning, Hawk knocked at the pool house door. Anna answered with her hair in a tight ponytail, dressed in skin-tight red shorts and a sleeveless gray t-shirt that was soaked with perpetration from her morning run; the outline of a dark colored sports bra visible beneath the sweat soaked shirt.

"Good morning, come in," she said with a smile and freed her hair with a tug at the band. 

Hawk followed her to the kitchen; his eyes taking in her pretty ass in the tight red shorts. The honest athletic smell of her mixed with a musky deodorant was heady and intoxicating. 

"Coffee? Bagel, Cream cheese?" she offered. Her voice a bit breathy from her run. 

Over the coffee and bagels she said, "Our little encounter last night was after a meal." She looked at him and smiled sweetly. "I like that." She took a big bite of her bagel and around a mouth full said, "You're quiet this morning." 

Hawk sipped his coffee then said, "I'm liable to say something incredibly stupid so not speaking seems my best option." 




Naked Portraits Pt. 02



Anna laughed. 

"That is a rare quality in a man so young." 

She stood up and pulled her shirt over her head briefly exposing an ash colored sports bra then the bar quickly followed the shirt. In just her tight shorts, she walked out of the kitchen. Not waiting to be asked, Hawk followed. He expected her to head for the shower, but instead, she headed to the bedroom. She crawled onto the bed then rolled on her back. She propped herself up on her elbows and asked, "Where did you wank off last night?"

"In the shower," he said. His face colored red at the embarrassing admission. 

She gave a crooked smile and said, "No reason to be ashamed of wanking. We all do it." To prove her point, she closed her eyes and slid her left hand under the elastic band of her shorts. After a couple of self-thrilling minuets, she opened her eyes and said in a voice heavy with excitement. "Let me watch you." The question took him by surprise and he wasn't sure what she meant. She laughed and said, "Undress for me, I want to watch." 

Hawk peeled his t-shirt over my head, dropped his shorts to the floor and stood before her in straining boxer shorts. 

"My, surfing keeps you fit," she said hungrily with a tiny edge of regret. Her hand went back to work under her shorts. "Why ... are you ... just ... bloody ... nineteen?" 

He was sure she didn't expect an answer and peeled down his underwear. 

"Lovely," she said at his impressive erection. Focusing on his hovering hardon she removed her shorts and panties. "Wank for me," she said. 

Excitement trumped all sense of self consciousness as he took his erection in his right hand and stroked. His eyes focused on her middle and ring finger of her right hand working in a clockwise circular motion on her clitoris. Then he flickered to her breasts reduced to small pleasing swells in her reclined position. Then his eyes went to her enraptured face.

"Yes," she suddenly uttered. Her eyes locked on his sliding hand as she came. A few seconds later she asked in a winded voice, "You ready too?" 

"Yes," he said with urgency. 

"I want to see. Ejaculate on my belly." She propped herself on her elbows.

Outside of a porn movie, Hawk never thought he'd hear a woman make such a request. He walked over to the bed, knelt between her spread legs and in two sharp stokes, exploded six huge jets across her freckled abdomen. His eyes locked in on the triangle of red hair between her legs fascinated with the white globs clinging there.

Anna laughed at the sudden mess then with him still kneeling over her, she brought herself to a quick second orgasm. When she returned to earth, she looked up at him and said, "You see? Everybody wanks. Now get out so I can clean up and go to work."

***

Hawk sat at a restaurant with some surfing friends and his cell rang. It was Anna.

"Am I interrupting?" 

"Not at all," he said, ready drop whatever he was doing whenever she called. 

"Free for some pie and coffee later?" 

"Sure. How later?" 

"Nine tonight?" 

"Be there." 

For the last few months, Anna and Hawk met a couple of times a week. They would always have something to eat first, then he would watch. Sometimes she would talk to him, other times she would pretend that he wasn't there. Except for an occasional peck on the cheek or the incidental contact, they rarely touched but when they did, it was like being stuck by lightning for him. She never asked him to come her abdomen again though ... but he lived in hope.

Most times he would watch her masturbate then watch her dress and she would leave without a word. On those days, he would lie and finish himself in the vacated warmth of her bed. Sometimes after getting dressed, Anna would stand and watch him relieve myself and then leave.

A few seconds after nine, Hawk walked into the pool house with giddy anticipation but immediately put on mental breaks when he saw that she had company.

"Hello Hawking, come meet some friends," she said in her pleasant deep accented voice. He approached the sofa and Anna stood to greet him. She wore a light blue short sleeve blouse with no bra on underneath for he could see her nipples through the material; below, she wore faded 501 jeans.

Her friends, a man and a woman, stood up too. 

"This is Nanda," Anna said introducing him to a beautiful black woman. "She's from Algiers and works at her county's embassy." 

Nanda took his hand and said in French accented English, "Anna was not exaggerating you are quite pretty." 

"Please to meet you," Hawk said as his face warmed. He was totally taken off guard at being so blatantly complimented by such a stunning woman.

Nanda was tallish perhaps five ten. Her dark brown hair had a reddish tint and cut super short in a dense curly crew. Her dark brown eyes seemed abnormally large. She was blessed with high cheekbones and the most amazing full lips painted with lavender lipstick. She wore a one-piece, sleeveless burnt orange dress that settled just above mid thigh. The dress was made of a clingy material that displayed her fine figure, which was on the slim side of voluptuous. Several gold rings adorned her elegant neck, similar rings clacked at her wrists and matching loop earrings hung from her ears. The exposed skin on her face, arms and legs were a deep rich coffee brown. 

"This is Alphonse, he's a fireman," Anna said. 

Alphonse laughed and said, "Emergency rescue actually." He shook Hawk's hand with a firm manly grip. His features were Hispanic with a nose that would be considered big yet was a perfect fit to his handsome face, his hair in a loose Elvis like pompadour with enough sideburns for dash. When he smiled, Hawk felt like smiling too. Alphonse was the shortest person in the room at about five seven but hardly the smallest. The guy was wide at the shoulders and built like a running back. His muscled upper body pushed at the seams of his black long sleeved silk shirt, the same went for his lower half in black cotton slacks. The skin on his face and hands were a dark caramel color and amazingly smooth. 

"I made an American apple pie," Anna said and left the living room. 

Nanda and Alphonse sat back down on the sofa; Hawk sat in one of the two matching living room chairs. Anna returned with a tray of coffee mugs, small plates, cream, sugar and a carafe of coffee. She put the tray down on the coffee table, dashed out, and quickly returned with a sliced pie. Hawk poured coffee while Anna served the pie with a mirror like pie server. 

Alphonse took a big bite of his pie and then said, "This is great. What's the difference between an American apple pie and a British apple pie?" 

"Geography," Anna said making everyone laugh. 

The conversation flowed as they ate and Hawk wondered when the couple was going to leave. 

After the pie Anna pored snifters of brandy. 

As they sipped the distilled wine, Anna said, "I think Hawk is the only one in the dark about tonight, I should fill him in." She looked at Hawk and said, "Nanda and Alphonse agreed to let you and me watch them make love." 

"Really?" Hawk said totally surprised. His heart went into high gear. His eyes flickered to beautiful Nanda who gave him a small bemused smile.

"Yes really," Anna said suppressing a laugh at his shock. She smiled at Nanda and Alphonse. "Do as you please. No need to perform just enjoy each other." 

Nanda put her brandy glass down, stood up, took Alphonse by the hand and pulled him to feet too. They embrace and kissed softly. 

Anna got up and knelt on the floor next to Hawk who leaned forward in his chair, his mouth slightly agape. 

He whispered to Anna, "Where did you meet them?" 

"No need to whisper," Anna answered in a mocking whisper of her own and then continued at a normal volume. "I met them at a charity function held by SCIT." 

"Are they a couple?" Hawk asked at normal volume too. It felt a little weird speaking out loud with two people kissing just a couple feet away.

"No, I recruited them separately. They've met once before and are making love for the first time tonight." 

Alphonse's hands roamed over Nanda's fine body pulling her in close. The kiss broke and with a playful but firm push from Nanda, Alphonse fell back in a sitting position on the sofa. Nanda removed the gold ring bracelets from her wrists and then the earrings. 

"I nearly tore a lob off once making love in these," Nanda said. Her French accent added a sexy edge to everything she said. 

"I'm trained to stem the flow of blood," Alphonse said as he undid the cuffs of his black silk shirt. 

"Can you stem flows other than blood?" Nanda asked.

Alphonse smiled at the subtle little joke.

Nanda pulled her burnt orange dress over her head giving Hawk a wonderful view of her splendid curvy ass in translucent lavender panties. She did a turn to give Alphonse a view of her backside thus giving Hawk a clear look at her front. A matching lavender bra pushed her perfect full breasts pleasingly together. Hawk wondered if her lavender lipstick was chosen because it matched her underwear so perfectly. Her flat stomach and narrow waist created a sweet hourglass shape. Her eyes caught Hawk's and they almost seemed to sparkle as she removed her bra allowing gravity to lay claim to her breasts with a stimulating bounce. She was a perfect dark brown all over up top. She turned back around to gave Alphonse the view. 

"You are fine," Alphonse said stating the obvious.

Nanda slipped her panties down her smooth dark legs. Her perfect naked brown ass showing faint traces of tan lines creating the only break in her dark brown skin. Nanda repeated her little turn and Hawk's eyes took in the black curly triangle between her legs. She turned to face Alphonse again, extended a hand, pulled him to his feet and help him to remove his shirt. 

"Oh my," Anna exclaimed. 

Nanda gasped in surprised too as everyone in the room discovered that Alphonse's shoulders and upper arms were decorated with twin dragon tattoos. The serpents were very different. One was predominately black and appeared feathery, the other red and scaly. Both were beautiful works of art in striking detail. 

Alphonse flexed his dragons. "I dated a tattoo artist from Chicago a couple of years ago," he said.

Anna got up to get a closer look. "These are brilliant," she said as she ran her fingers over the scaly red dragon. Nanda did the same to the black feathery one on his other arm. As riveting as the dragon tattoos were, Hawk's eyes were more interested in the naked beautiful Algerian woman standing close enough to touch.

"This is brilliant too," Nanda declared as she slid a hand over Alphonse's bulge in his silk boxers. 

Anna backed away and sat on the arm of Hawk's chair. Nanda dropped to her knees and put her hands on Alphonse's hips and slipped the boxers down his legs. Alphonse's steel hard seven-inch circumcised erection bobbed free for all to see. 

"Such a pretty thing," Nanda said in French. She took his erection into her mouth without the use of her hands. 

"What did you say?" Alphonse asked as he looked down at Nanda engulfing his dark brown erection. 

Since her mouth was full, Hawk answered for her, "She says your dick is pretty." 

Nanda freed her mouth, looked at Hawk and asked in French, "You speak French?" 

"A little."

"Do you find me attractive?"

"Yes, you are very beautiful."

"What you all saying?" Alphonse asked.

"That he agrees with you that I am beautiful," Nanda said. She smiled at Hawk, stood up, embraced Alphonse and kissed him again with his wet slick erection pressed between them. Alphonse gripped Nanda's ass, his lighter brown hands a pleasing contrast against her dark coffee skin. The kiss ended and Nanda spoke in rapid fire French. 

"What you say now?" Alphonse asked. 

"The bedroom's that way," Hawk said pointing. 

"Thank you," Nanda said as she took her new lover's hand and led him to the bedroom. 

Anna and Hawk followed.

"You are full of surprises, Mr. Hawk," Anna said.

"It's been that kind of night," Hawk returned. 

Nanda and Alphonse fell on the bed groping, rubbing and kissing. Anna and Hawk stood on opposite sides of the bed watching the couple created a palatable sexual friction. Hawk's eyes drifted up to Anna and as she watched the groping pair, she unbuttoned her blouse and let it slip off her freckled shoulders exposing her naked bra-less breasts. She unsnapped her jeans and pealed them down; she wore no underwear below either and stood naked across from him. 

Hawk's eyes dropped from Anna to the two on the bed. Like a magician in a magic show, Anna produced a condom seemingly from nowhere and handed it to Nanda who nimbly applied it to Alphonse's stiff member. Nanda dropped back onto the bed and Alphonse guided his freshly covered erection to her wet opening and in one smooth thrust, he entered her eliciting a laugh from Nanda and soft epithetic gasp from Anna. Alphonse's ass slowly rose and fell; Nanda let out a small gasp with each thrust. 

Nanda laughed lustily, slapped Alphonse's ass and said, "Faster and harder dragon man." He answered with a quicker pace and greater force causing Nanda's breasts to bounce with each slapping thrust. 

An unexpected hand on Hawk's right shoulder made him jump. For a second he stupidly thought that there was a fifth person in the room only to see that it was Anna. He had been so focused on the love making that he hadn't seen her slip around to his side. Her arms crept around, undid the buttons of his shirt then she peeled it from his body. She pressed against his back as her hands drifted over his exposed chest and abdomen. 

This was probably the most prolonged physical contact they had ever had and Hawk felt excitement beyond description. He was so hard that he literally ached. Her hands fell to his hips and slipped his board shorts along with the underwear to a heap around his ankles. Anna lightly pressed her naked body against him, he felt the hard tips of her nipples on his back and subtle tickle of her pubic hair on his ass. Her hands slipped under his arms, strayed down his chest and found his steely erection and she explored its length with both her hands. Abruptly, she pulled away from him and walked back to her spot opposite him on the other side of the bed. 

Hawk's erection twitched in outrage, but at the same time, he was glad she had moved away for if she had continued to stroke him, he would have exploded all over the couple on the bed. 

"My God!" Nanda exclaimed in French. 

Her back arched briefly lifting both her and Alphonse into the air. Her next series of vocalizations were in Arabic and Berber then she released a wholehearted laugh of genuine glee and said, "That was very good." She seemed to notice that Anna and Hawk were naked for the first time and her eyes locked on Hawk's large stiff erection. "That is very good too," Her attention returned to Alphonse lying on top of her. "Take me from the back."

"In the butt?" Alphonse asked.

Nanda laughed. "No, if you try that I will tear off your fool's stick and feed it to the dogs. Just enter me from behind." They hurriedly switched positions and Alphonse entered her. "Hit it hard Dragon Man," she demanded. 

Nanda gasped and grunted as Alphonse slammed into her with bruising force and with each thrust she called for more in English, French, Berber, Arabic and perhaps some Italian too. Hawk stared unblinking at the steady bounce and sway of Nanda's breasts. He shifted to the foot of the bed to look at her face. Her eyes were closed, her expression serious and focused. Then her eyes flew open and she came loudly vocalizing her ecstasy in all her languages. 

In a fix of delirious laughter, Nanda pulled away from Alphonse and fell on her side to rest. Apparently, she had a predilection for laughter after orgasm. She rolled on her back still laughing as she signaled Alphonse to entered her again. He did and quickly got back to ramming speed. 

Anna propped a knee up on the bed, spread the red patch between her legs and brought herself to orgasm with the fingers of her right hand. When her breathing normalized, her eyes met Hawk's. Catching the giggles from giddy Nanada, she laughed. Fighting to control her laughter, Anna said to Alphonse, "We want a money shot when you're ready." 

"Where do you want it?" Alphonse asked. 

"Where ever Nanda says," Anna answered. 

"Let pretty Hawk pick," Nanada said in a breathy voice looking at Hawk. 

Without thinking Hawk said, "Face."

"My face?" Nanda asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hawk you dirty boy," Anna said. 

Hawk cringed, fearing he had made the wrong call for this was no sleazy porn film after all.

"All right do it on my face," Nanda agreed to Hawk's surprise ... and joy. 

Alphonse suddenly stopped thrusting, pulled out of Nanda, snapped off the condom and took his rock hard erection in his hand. They slipped off the bed. Nanda knelt on the floor and Alphonse stood over her. Anna and Hawk moved in close to watch. 

Nanda hypnotically fixed her eyes on the head of Alphonse's erection sliding in his fist. With a crooked smile on her beautiful dark face she said, "This is such a nasty thing to do." 

Seconds later Alphonse sprayed her. Nanda yelped as a jet of white struck her under her left eye. Two more quick ropes followed, one lining her nose up the middle and the other striped her full sweet lips and dangled at her chin. 

"This is such a nasty thing to do," Nanda repeated, with a deep sexy giggle as she wiped at her left eye. Hawk marveled at the contrast of the creamy white fluid on Nanda's dark brown face. He watched with fascination as the bit that dangled from her chin dropped onto her left breast. 

Anna appeared at Hawk's side, kissed his cheek and whispered, "Would you like to anoint me in the same way?"

The sudden rushing in his head made it hard to think. He couldn't form words so he simply nodded. Better hurry he thought.

Sensing his urgency, Anna dropped to her knees before him, gripped his steel hard pole just as he started ejaculating. A gushing rope of fluid hit her right freckled cheek and exploded in all directions. She blinked but kept her eyes open as she fixed on the end his spewing organ in her hands. A second jet streaked across her forehead with enough velocity to push aside a lock of her long red hair. She flinched but held steady. A third jet followed, then a forth, then fifth, then sixth. At the seventh and final eruption, Anna's upturned face was crisscrossed with blending irregular stripes of creamy white fluid. Her eyes shifted from the end of Hawk's penis to his face. He looked down at her, her expression serious, almost sad in a way. The odd expression effected him just as much as the sight of his seed all over her. Miraculously, his fading erection reversed course and sprung up rock hard again. He wanted to stand there forever looking down at her just as she was.

Nanda said, "You Brits throw interesting parties."

The spell broke. Anna smiled a guilty smile and looked away.

An hour later, with everyone cleaned and dressed, Anna and Hawk walked Nanda and Alphonse to the door and saw them off. When the door closed, Anna stepped into Hawk's arms and covered his mouth in a long slow kiss. 

In a soft voice oddly close to tears she said, " I've accepted a job in New York, I leave tomorrow."

Chapter 17

The Idea of Three

"You were just nineteen?" I asked intrigued, excited and jealous of his early sexual adventure. 

He nodded. 

"The redhead in the porn movie you told me about on our first date? She reminded you of Anna didn't she?" 

Hawk nodded again.

"Did you and Anna do it after the couple left?" 

"No, we parted not long after Nanda and Alphonse left the pool house. I never saw her again after that night."




Naked Portraits Pt. 02



"That model Venus that Betty painted, she must have set you off," I said. His erection twitched to prove I was right.

"Maybe. We should look her up for a threesome." Hawk said with a dirty smile.

Not gonna happen I thought immediately. No way was I going to invite in another girl especially one as hot as Venus. But another guy? Now that I found quite interesting. Lost in thought, I absently ran my fingers along the length of his solid erection resting on his stomach. 

"I wanna invite in another guy to see what it's like," I said.

Hawk steely shaft twitched under my hand. He finds it interesting too I thought hiding a tiny smile. 

After a few more twitches he asked, "Have someone in mind?"

Deciding at that moment who I wanted, I said, "Yeah, it's a guy in the drawing class I teach but I haven't thought it through much."

Hawk's penis kept twitching. 

"No way am I going to get any reading done. I hope you're proud."

"Extremely," I said

I gripped his erection, pointed it to the ceiling, covered the head with my mouth and took him as far down my throat as I could. I backed away and freed him from my mouth to say, "Maybe I could blow the other guy while you watch." Thinking of his adventures with Anna Grayson I added, "You like watching."

"Just talking about this is turning you on isn't it?" Hawk said with a soft laugh.

I shrugged, a bit embarrassed at being so transparent ... and raunchy. 

"This kind of thing can get serious and messy," he said. "Are you sure you wanna go down that road?"

"You've done this. You tell me?"

"Don't dodge the question or my point. Life is complicated enough with just one lover to deal with," he said soberly.

I went quiet for a couple of seconds taken aback by his seriousness. To lighten the mood, I sat up and took his erected penis in both my hands.

"So you're not interested then?" I whispered with a tiny dirty smile. 

He gave a small laugh at my blatant manipulation.

"Did you have that oh my moment with this guy from the drawing class?" he asked returning the dirty smile. 

My eyes went wide. The oh my thing was something that Betty and I had made up.

"What do you mean?" I asked playing dumb. 

"It's that very first moment when a person becomes sexually aware of another person. It's instant and takes you by surprise hence the phrase 'oh my!'"

"So when was your oh my moment with me?" I asked turning the question on him. 

"A year ago at Betty's old apartment."

"Really?" I blinked in surprise. "I assumed it would be the day you saw me naked at the painting studio." 

"Nope, you got me all hot long before then. You had stopped by Betty's to drop off some art." 

"It was a painting of the dragon," I said nodding remembering the moment. "It was for Betty's aunt Greta. I barely remember seeing you there that day."

"I remember you big time. You were dressed in paint-covered jeans and a clingy black top; your hair was tied back in a ponytail, you wore your glasses. A shaft of sunlight spilling from the skylight above bathing you in soft yellow light. Betty said something funny and you laughed." Hawk pulled me down on top of him and said, "Oh my," then covered my mouth with a sweet heated kiss. After the kiss he asked, "So what was your moment with this guy in the drawing class?" 

"I was helping him draw a stupid teacup from a still life. I looked into his face and there it was."

Hawk guided one of my hands to his erection; automatically, I started to stroke.

"What's he look like" he asked.

"He's kinda skinny with dark hair a little too long. Tall like you. He has a beard. I like the beard."

"What about his dick?" he asked as he cupped a breast. 

"I don't know." 

"I've got a measuring tape you could barrow." 

I gently slap the head of his penis for being a smart ass.

"Ouch," he said softly then asked, "How are you going to approach him?" 

"Don't know yet. Now shut up and fuck me." I ordered. 

"You're in that mood," He said as he rolled on top of me.

"And what mood is that?" I asked innocently.

"You're so hyped right now that just about everything I do will set you off." He looked into my eyes. "I bet I can make you come with just a single thrust." 

"I dare you," I said confident that he was blowing smoke. 

He took his erection in his hand and with excruciating slowness, entered me. When he was all the way in, he stopped and didn't move a muscle. Instantly, my passion started to build. 

"Oh fuck!" I exclaimed in frustrated joy as an orgasm rippled through me. "Not fair! You planted the idea in my head!" I slapped at his arms ineffectually and then I burst into gales of laughter.

"You are positively high Japanee girl," he said using the local pronunciation of Japanese. 

I nodded, tried to contain the laughter but lost it again. 

"You're like those extreme sports dudes," he said. "They get high when they're on the edge of danger. You're an extreme sex junky." 

His hips started moving.

"Maybe," I said agreeing to a point, "but I don't feel like being fucked up the ass while jumping off a bridge with a bungee cord around my feet." 

The visual made me laughed. But was he right? Am I an extremist and this threesome idea was my need to kick things up a notch? My second orgasm followed that thought. Hawk pulled out of me and knelt between my spread legs stroking himself.

Just like with Anna I thought. Then it occurred to me that the redheaded Brit was responsible for both his voyeur and facial fetishes. I liked Hawk's kinky need to watch, but the other thing, the facial thing was plain degrading and gross. 

Just as that thought left my head, Hawk ejaculated and the first rope of semen struck me squarely on the chin and lower lip. The rest of his emissions stripped my stomach and pubic area creating a warm sticky mess. I gave him the benefit of the doubt that he hadn't aimed at my face on purpose but the look in his eyes seem to say otherwise. So to get even, I sat up and made him kiss my messy mouth but the perv seem to relish the task.



Naked Portraits Pt. 03



Welcome to part three Literotica reader. Hope you are having fun. I am, erotic writing is wonderfully therapeutic, soothes like a back rub and cures shitty job syndrome. 

Notes on part two: 

The mysterious statue hidden deep in Iao Valley on the Island of Maui plays a big role in Gwen's artistic shift. On the flash drive, several different sources referred to the statue so I went on line to see it for myself but I couldn't find anything. I looked up an old college buddy who happens to live on Maui and asked him about it. He says he has never heard of it. I suggested that the statue might be off the beaten path somewhere but my friend swears up and down that if the statue I described was on his island everyone would know about it. I was disappointed but he promised to call me if he found out anything. 

The story of Hawk and the sexy redhead, Anna Grayson in California was another long aside that my editor Boston begged me to shorten. Call me a fool but I didn't listen. Information on Hawk was abundant on the flash drive but Anna Grayson only appeared that one time. I couldn't resist putting a spotlight on her. Enough of my notes, go read the story. See you again with part four. Please vote and drop me a comment.

Thanks,

Eagelwolf

********* 

Chapter 18 Inquiring Minds

A little after ten on Thursday morning, I stepped into the art office to pick up my work-study check. On the way out, I bumped into Den Kang the figure painting instructor. He gave me a small smile and a microscopic bow just as Erma Beaumont my mentor and head of the painting department stepped in. I cursed the lousy timing and desperately sought out something to look at to avoid Beaumont's accusing stare. My eyes found the painting hanging in the entryway of the office. 

I must have passed the painting a billion times in my two years here at Honolulu University but never took the time to really look at it until now. It was a still life of a newspaper, a square of chocolate brownie, and a paper cup of steaming coffee. It was beautifully executed in a style reminiscent of Edouard Manet. Automatically, I looked for a signature but found none. 

On my peripheral, I felt Erma Beaumont's eyes on me.

Professor Kang joined me at the paining in the entryway. He said in his usual gruff manner "So powerful the ordinary and commonplace." 

"And so pointless," Erma added joining us in front of the painting.

Kang sniffed and said, "A painting of pure abstraction and void of all human interaction would be more to your liking I wager." 

Anticipating the start of a legendary Kang and Beaumont artistic confrontation, I tucked my head and slipped out as fast as I could. Their fights were on the scale of Mothera and Godzilla. In my flight, I passed the Common's Gallery next to the art office. 

The Commons Gallery is a long roughly triangular shaped space with fourteen foot high portable walls. Two sides of the triangular room was all glass giving the place a fish tank feel. Inside I saw Paul Gleason, my fellow graduate student sitting at the front desk. He was reading a book, a big no-no with the gallery coordinator, Mr. Akai. Seeing Paul sparked a memory. He was in the charcoal drawing class I tutored and he had made friends with the skinny grunge guy I was strangely attracted to.

Poor Paul had the misfortune of getting Professor Kang as the head of his portfolio review board. Twenty minutes into Paul's first review, Kang forced marched him into the beginning drawing class that I tutor. In front of the whole class, Kang scolded Paul for his shameful lack of basic drawing skills. Humiliated, Paul sat down with the beginners. I felt real bad for him but secretly agreed with Kang's assessment of Paul's serious lack of drawing skills. Thus bringing up the old question again, how the hell did Paul get accepted as a grad? He must have some serious dirt on a member of the grad comity was my only guess. Anyway, Paul had became chummy with grunge guy. Embarrassingly, I didn't know grunge guy's name even after months of being his TA. I entered the gallery to remedy that problem. 

Paul was so engrossed in his book, he didn't notice me standing in front of him. "What you reading?" I asked.

"What?" he said looking up startled. He saw it was me and said in an oddly guilty tone, "H.G. Wells, Time Machine." 

"Don't worry," I said. "I won't tell Mr. Akai you were reading on duty." Then trying to sound as casual, I asked, "Paul? What's the name of that skinny guy with the beard in the drawing class that mooches cigarettes off you all the time?"

"Matthew Anderson," he said marking his book and putting it aside. 

"Where he from?" 

"Midwest. He's from Ohio just outside Cleveland." Paul's eyes narrowed at my questioning. "You done with the surfer guy you dating?" A look of hope flashed in his eyes.

"Forget it, Hawk's still my man," I informed him.

"Too bad. What you asking about Matt for then?" 

To avoid pointless questions I concocted a plausible lie on the spot. "One of the printmaking girls likes him."

"Tell your girlfriend to ask the guy herself," he answered in crusty New Yorker fashion. 

"She's too shy. You've been talking to the guy. Tell me some stuff," I persisted.

"All right, all right I'll do it for you. What you wanna know?"

How old is he?"

"Twenty."

"Awai!" He's that young?" I asked surprised.

"Your friend older? She a cougar or somethin'?"

"What's his major?" I asked ignoring his comment. Cougar indeed! 

"English. He wants to be a writer when he grows up."

"Girlfriend?"

"Broke up this summer. Girl back in Ohio dumped him for his best friend. The poor slob got an ex-girlfriend and an ex-best friend in one shitty move."

Rebound, I thought unsure if that were good or bad.

"So," Paul said, "this girlfriend? She local? She hot or what?"

"She's Japanese hot and sexy," I said vainly.

"You can tell her I'm available."

"I will but she doesn't like crusty New Yorker types."

"Ouch," he said looking hurt.

"Don't tell the Matthew guy about this. I don't wanna get his hopes up in case my friend backs down okay?" 

"Like a Tahitian, it's mums the word," he said. "By the way, I'm doing a paper on Jasper Johns in Kleckner's class. I need my book back." 

"Sure," I said, "I read most of it. Good stuff."

"I'd like to see that self-portrait you did again."

I rolled my eyes knowing that he would bring up the painting at some point. "I bet you would," I said and then added casually, "I'll ask Hawk how he feels about that?" 

"Hey, no need to bring in the muscle bound surfer boyfriend," Paul said, "I was just askin'. The painting is real good is all. Has nothin' to do with the fact that it's a naked portrait of you."

I laughed at his bald ass lies and turn to leave. As I was about to step out, my eyes fell on a small painting on the floor next to Paul's foot. 

"You did that?" I asked pointing at the little painting sure that he couldn't have, it looked too good.

"I wish," Paul said confirming my doubt. "I bought it off an artist at Ala Moana Park the first week I was here. I liked it but didn't have much money. The artist chick kept lowering the price every time I tried to walk away. At fifteen bucks I said yeah." He picked up the painting and looked at it in wonder. "The chick that sold it was about my age but this painting is way older. I took it up to the art restoration teacher. Just by lookin' he said it might have been painted in the forties or fifties.

Paul handed me the painting and I gave it a critical once over. It was an oil painting of a beach with a distinctive rock overhang. The style made me think of a Hopper landscape. A red circle with what an odd symbol in it filled the right hand corner. "Whoever painted this was very good," I said.

"The signature looks Asian," Paul said. "Can you read it?"

It was some sort of script in a rough circle. "I don't think it's a Japanese character," I said. A strange feeling rippled through me as I thought, Is it possible that it's the same symbol I found on the belly of the forest goddess?

"You okay?" Paul asked.

"Just a case of chicken skin," I said.

"What?" Paul asked with a half laugh.

"Chicken skin, what you call goosebumps on the mainland." I gave the painting back to him. "See you in drawing class," I said and left the gallery.

Chapter 19 Seduction 101

I clacked away at Hawk's laptop writing a paper comparing the modern art movement to the post-modern. My head was nowhere in the room as I though of Matthew Anderson the grunge dude from Ohio. A cunnilingus 

On the computer screen the words deconstruction and appropriation floated unattached to anything, absolutely meaningless, totally pointless. I blinked, confused as to why I had typed them. Then my neglected academic brain shot the gap and I remembered why and I hit the keys with fresh insight. Deconstruction and appropriation are the fundamental foundations of the post-modern movement. Deconstruct! Take everything apart in every possible way: politically, socially, academically, racially, emotionally, and sexually. Take nothing at face value. Appropriate! Pick and chose the pieces of human experience that excite you. Combine science with comedy! Cave painting and quantum physics! Mozart and racial inequality! It's no holds bar! Damn the modernist vanguard's torpedoes! This is trench warfare with thousands of fronts, maybe millions! 

Thank you academic brain, I thought as I hit save. 

"Come read this," I said to Hawk.

He slid off the bed and read what I had just written. 

"Not bad but you might wanna cut back on the exclamation points," he said. He sat back down on the bed. 

"Wanna hear some stuff on the Mathew guy?" I asked.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked as he lay back down to read. 

"No you don't," I said. "I made a point of hanging with Paul during the mid class breaks. He smokes and Matthew bums cigarettes off him." I laughed. "Paul always complains calling Matt a freeloading punk but never turns him down. Matt's funny and smart. He makes light of his break up with his girlfriend over the summer but I can tell he has a serious broken heart on his hands. I've decided to invite him to the art grad beach party."

"You making your move at the party?" Hawk asked. 

"No, he just seems kind of lonely and needs to get out." 

"Wear that light blue one piece suit. That should perk the guy's interest." 

"You like that suit because of how see through it gets when it's wet," I said with a snort.

"Fuck yeah," he said. "No bones about that." 

"Oh there's a bone alright," I said. As always we were studying naked. I stood and gratuitously stretched before him and watched him bone up before my eyes.

**********

On the day of the art grad beach gathering, I arranged to drive Matthew to the party in Hawk's Bronco. Hawk would hitch a ride with someone else to allow me some time alone with the guy. 

"Watch out, the guy may like you," Hawk said as he handed me the keys to his Bronco. 

"Isn't that the point?" I said as I got into the driver's seat.

"I'm not sure what the point to this is," he said. 

He opened the driver's side back door and piled in a cooler full of beer followed by plastic containers of sushi, musubi, teriyaki chicken drumsticks and thighs. I was in charge of the food for the party this year. 

"If you say stop it stops," I said seriously a bit put out. We had been discussing this for weeks and only now he decides to express his feelings? 

"It's cool. See you soon," he said as he walked to the back of the Bronco and took out his surfboard. 

It wasn't cool I could tell and I quietly fumed as I drove to Matthew's dorm building. Hawk probably thought that this Matthew thing would simply cool down and go away, and to be honest, I though it would too. But it didn't and kept bounced around inside my skull like a fat fly at a windowsill. In fact, it was Hawk's story of his little orgy back in California with the redhead that kept me sparked. See, it's your fault I'm doing this, I thought having no problem putting all the blame on Hawk. 

But why this Matthew guy? I had to honestly ask myself. He was too skinny, hair too long. I wouldn't call him handsome and he looked very much twenty, and for some bizarre reason, when he smiled he looked disturbingly younger. I liked the scruffy beard but hated his Midwestern slacker dress code that consisted mostly of short sleeve button-down shirts, jeans and work boots. In the islands, the look really stood out. 

Matthew stood waiting for me outside his dorm building. I sighed at the sight of him. He wore an unbuttoned flannel shirt (Flannel at the beach? Really?) over a black t-shirt, denim cargo shorts with too many pockets and dirty sneakers with no socks. All that was missing was a black ski cap. At least he was wearing shorts. 

I waved at him and he got in. 

"Where's Paul?" He asked.

"Sculpture grads have a dinner to go to first," I said. "He'll come by later."

We hardly spoke as I maneuvered through the dorm's back streets to University Avenue. Once on University, I gunned it to the H-1 entrance. As I drove, he kept stealing glances at me. Today, I dug out my more fashionable pair of wire frame glasses and applied a little bit of eye makeup. Under the long shapeless baggy t-shirt, I wore my secret weapon, the one-piece blue bathing suit that Hawk liked. 

"This your car?" he asked.

"No it's my boyfriend's. You'd think that after O.J. the white Ford Bronco would have gone extinct."

"Actually, I hear that sales spiked after the bizarre getaway," he said. 

I turned to comment and caught him looking at me intently. He immediately looked away. You're Busted I thought with a satisfied smile. 

"Even the interstate is more beautiful than anything in Byle, Ohio," he said obviously making conversation. 

"Your Home town is named Bile?" I asked with a laugh.

"That's B-y-l-e. It's named after some Civil War general."

"I'll Google it to see if you're lying."

"Why does Oahu have an interstate?" Matthew asked with a frown. "I mean what other state are you connected too?"

"Good question. And not only that, we have three of them. H-1, H-2 and H-3."

"Man, how did they sell that to the tax payers?"

"And we did it long before the highway to nowhere in Alaska," I added with dubious pride. 

He laughed. The conversation lagged and I drove in silence for a little while. To get the conversation rolling again, I asked, "So how did you find your way to the islands?"

"At my small college in Ohio, I entered an essay competition," he said. "The prize was an all paid exchange to a western school. Honolulu University was on the list."

"Must have been one hell of an essay. What was it about?" 

"I wrote about winter in my home comparing an average February day to the worst day in Hawaii. Hawaii won hands down. The title of the piece was F*** Snow I'm Going to Hawaii!"

I swerved a little from laughing.

"My essay teach made me retitled the paper to Winter Sucks and I'm going to Hawaii. 

"You broke up with your girl friend over the summer, right?"

"Yeah," He said and went quiet.

Open the guys old wound and rub in some salt why don't you? I thought miserably. I'm so fucking stupid!

"I'm, sorry," I apologized. "I'm being too forward." 

"It's okay, I'm through it."

I could tell that it was a lie. Quickly changed the subject, I asked "Were there any Asian people in Byle?" 

"Not a one." 

"So what do you think of Asian girls then?" 

"Ah ... interesting." He said hesitantly. After a pause he added, "Your friend still interested in me?"

"What?" I asked.

"Paul told me about your Japanese friend from printmaking." 

Confused by his question, I looked at him blankly. Then I remember my little cover up lie with Paul and I moaned. "Fucking Paul, I told him not to tell!" 

"So I take it that your friend's not interested?" he asked. 

"Yes, I mean no! Oh, I'm gonna kick Paul's okole!" 

"I'm assuming okole means ass," he said. "Don't worry it's cool," he said obviously disappointment.

We drove the rest of the way in relative silence. We arrived at the beach party and he helped me unload the food. Aside from me, Matthew didn't know a soul at the party. I introduced him around to help him relax. Annoyingly, Hawk was out to sea on his board. He's not here on purpose I fumed. 

A few minutes later almost everyone at the party charged toward the ocean, some were armed with Boggie boards and surfboards. Those who didn't go swimming started a volleyball game. Matthew settled onto a picnic table to watch the volleyball players. 

Time for launch phase two of my seduction.

I strategically stood nearby and pulled my long t-shirt over my head giving Matthew a first glimpse of the light-blue one-piece bathing suit. Taking my sweet time tying up my hair, I stole a backward glance pleased that he was checking out my ass. Look all you want Mr. Anderson, I thought with a smug little smile. 

"My boyfriend Hawk is out on the water on his board," I said. "He's a real surf nut and lives to surf." I turned to face Matthew. He quickly pointed his eyes to the shore pretending to look for Hawk on his board. "Ready for a swim?" I asked.

"I can't swim," He said sliding his hands into his lap nervously pulling at the material of his cargo shorts.

I felt stupid. It hadn't occurred to me that he couldn't swim. Lacking a contingent plan, I said, "Ah, help yourself to beer and food and I'll see you in a little bit then." 

I jogged toward the shore and waded in up to my waist. The water level dropped and pulled at my legs as a small mountain of water formed in front of me. I broke into a short run and dove into the on coming wave just as it peaked. The sound of the wave breaking above me was gloriously deafening. I relaxed allowing the Pacific Ocean to have its way with me, happy to be swallowed up whole for as long as I could hold my breath. When my head broke the surface I found Hawk at my side bobbing on his board. 

"Where's the Matthew guy?" he asked.

"He can't swim," I said. 

Hawk gave a small laugh. "Even so, he could still wade in with you a little couldn't he?"

"He's afraid of the water. I think he has hydrophobia or something," I pushed my wet hair back and hung on to the edge of his board. 

"That would be rabies. Is he foaming at the mouth?" Hawk teased. 

I splashed him for being a wise ass. He kicked water back at me.

"How goes the seduction?" he asked. 

"Not so good. I keep stepping on my own tongue."

"I can't believe how much you suck at this."

"I seduced you didn't I?" 

"By stripping naked and sucking my tongue out of my head. Hardly subtle." 

We bobbed and rolled with a swell. It occurred to me that beautiful charming Hawk knew a lot more about seduction than I ever would. 

"What should I do?" I asked.

"Relax, stop trying. He's male and already attracted to you so you don't have to do a thing. When you get out of the water he'll be watching, so do the slow motion Bo Derrick run."

"Run in slow motion? Really? How the hell do I do that?"

"Don't worry, all guys have a built-in slow mo' button." He put a foot on my shoulder and gave a gentle shove. I acted like he had given me a serious kick and backed away with a dramatic splash. He laughed, kick water at my head then paddled out to sea to catch some waves. 

I rode the next wave to shore then headed back to the art grad gathering. Although I felt foolish doing it, I broke into a light jog. I laughed a little as I imagined myself moving in slow motion. But I'd venture to say that with my slim B-cups, I will never ever produce the bounce that Bo Derrick had in her glorious moment of fame.

I spied Matthew sitting on a towel in the sand shaded by a clump of coconut trees with a beer in his hands. As Revel's Bolero sounding in my head, I headed in his direction. A quick downward glance filled me with dismay for my dark brown nipples were totally visible through the wet material. That is why Hawk likes this suit so much; I may as well be naked! Thank goodness I took the time to bikini trim. A wave of self-consciousness blanketed me and my eyes darted around to make sure no one but Matthew was looking. Hawk was right, I suck at this seduction stuff. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 03



Resisting the urge to find a towel and cover up, I willed myself to jog right up to Matthew. The poor guy did his best not to stare at me in my translucent one-piece swimsuit. I pretended to find something of interest out on the water and made a show of freeing my wet hair from the band holding it in place, all the while stealing glances all around me to see who else might be looking. A few others were. A hot thrill flushed through me followed by a strong urge to knock Matthew flat on his back, crawl on top of him and kiss his mouth. 

Yeah, that would be nice and subtle, I mused.

Others started returning from their swim so I put my lust aside, pulled a towel from my beach bag and wrapped it around my middle, and then spread a second towel on the sand in the sun near Matthew's shady patch. 

"Get me a beer please?" I asked. 

He nodded, got up awkwardly, ambled over to the cooler of drinks. He pulled a beer from the ice then walked it back with an odd gait. 

Holy shit! I nearly blurted aloud. The guy sported a sizable wedge in his cargo shorts. 

"Take off the shoes and shirt and get some sun," I said trying to sound casual, but unable to look away from his budging crotch. 

"I'm as pale as a cave fish," he said, "and I'll burn like a dry leaf on a barbeque." 

"That's what sun block is for. Sit I'll rub some on you." 

I rummaged through my beach bag glad to have somewhere else to look other than his crotch.Matthew pulled off his shirt. I was happy to see had no gratuitous tattoos, well at least none on his upper body anyway; he could have swastikas on his ass for all I knew. He wasn't kidding about his pale skin though, the guy was a ghost. He seemed more concerned about the raging erection in his shorts and did his best to conceal it by sitting cross-legged with his hands in his lap. 

The thought of his sizable erection filled my head and the dark lust returned a new. To add gasoline to both our fires, I shucked my towel, dropped to my knees in front of him and took my time finding the suntan lotion in my bag. After finding the lotion, I stood on my knees and shimmied around behind him. His eyes tracked my stiff nipples for as long as they could. Once behind him, I applied the lotion to his shoulders and permitted myself a deep gratifying grin at how well things were going. 

I can seduce a twenty-year-old guy just fine, I thought with a smug smile. 

My fingers massaged his shoulders near his neck marveling at how smooth his skin felt. Finishing with his shoulders, I did his arms and upper back. Still kneeling behind him, I slowly reached around to his upper chest just to see what the skin there felt like. I closed my eyes enjoying the smooth sensual warmth of him. It took all of my will power not to hug him from behind to feel the press of his back against my upper body. 

Get a grip girl, I thought, and stop pawing him or he'll peg you as lolo and run for the hills. I slamming the door shut on my runaway libido and pulled my hands away from him. 

"Put some on your face and legs and you'll be fine." Noting how pale his legs were, I added, "Don't skimp, use a lot." 

He took the lotion from me and applied it to areas he could reach on his own. I walked around on my knees, knelt before him and watched him rub lotion into his legs. The urge to run my hands along the tops of his pale thighs was so strong that my fingers started to tingle. Not trusting my hands to stay put on their own, I crossed my arms in front of me and gripped my shoulders. My eyes fell on his crotch. Again ... wow. 

I quickly turned to look out to sea. What must this guy be thinking? I thought. I'm as subtle as a double barrel shotgun blast I thought. My new found confidence in my seduction skills slipped down a notch. 

"Surfing looks dangerous," Matthew said following my eyes out to sea. "Which one's your boyfriend Hawk?"

Here I was throwing myself at this guy and he suddenly brings up Hawk? Was he just making conversation or did he have some strict moral code he lived by? Maybe he was one of those born again Christians? The guy's name screamed biblical morality. That thought freaked me out. Great now the guy probably thinks I'm the whore of Babylon. 

I rummaged through my bag just for something to do and found Hawk's small but powerful binoculars and handed them to Matthew. 

"That's Hawk with the yellow and orange board and bright red shorts" I said pointing out at sea. Hawk had just caught a big wave. 

Matthew put the binoculars to his eyes. 

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. 

Even without the benefit of the binoculars I saw that the wave Hawk rode turn into furious white foam and came crashing down. Hawk and his board vanish from sight. 

"He's drowning!" Matthew shouted. He looked around the beach frantically. "Where are the life guards?" 

"Hawaii beaches don't have life guards. He's fine," I said with a bewildered smile. "See look," I assured him pointing at Hawk swimming after his lost board. Apparently, Hawk had had enough and paddled in to shore. A couple of minutes later, he charged up the beach with his board under his arm. 

"Brew!" he demanded dropping the board in the sand at my feet. I tossed him a can. He popped it and swallowed half of it. 

"Matthew this is Hawk," I said in introduction.

"Dude," Hawk said reaching down to shake Matthew's hand dripping sea water all over the guy.

"How is it out there," Matthew asked.

"Gnarly."

"Pretty rough then?"

"Totally."

"I know it's hard to believe," I said to Matt, "but he can speak in multiple word sentences."

"Yep," Hawk said and finished the rest of his beer.

I stood up, handed Hawk a towel, kissed his cheek and squeezed his well toned right bicep. I don't know why, but just after he had been surfing I found him doubly irresistible and found near impossible to keep my hands off him. Today though, I settled for just the one squeeze. 

Arming ourselves with fresh beers, we sat in the sand and listened to Hawk glorify his wipe out gratuitously inserting dude, gnarly and totally where ever possible, laying on the Southern California thick making Matthew laugh. I smiled because Hawk was turning on the charm making Matt feel comfortable and relaxed. 

Others joined us and the beer and conversation flowed at an even keel. I kept an eye on Matthew to make sure he was having a good time but I needn't have worried for the guy was no social cripple. He even became stud of the moment when he participated in a game of Trivial Pursuit: The All Movie addition. The guy's depth and knowledge of movies boarded the uncanny. 

The sun slipped below the ocean and the musical instruments and pakalolo came out at about the same time. A smoking joint came my way as someone strummed an Eagle's tune on a guitar. I politely refused a toke taking my designated driver status seriously. Hawk refused too, he didn't like the stuff claiming that it made him paranoid. Hawk was probably the only surfer dude on the whole planet that didn't smoke weed. But Matthew on the other hand partook gladly whenever the dubbie came his way. Latecomers arrived and among them was Paul Gleason escorted by the sculpture yard sirens Oleander Wong and Sally Higgins. 

I approached Paul, gave him a sweet smile then punched him hard in the arm. 

"What the fuck?" he protested rubbing his arm.

"Why did you tell Matthew about the printmaking girl?" 

"The guy was depressed. I wanted to cheer him up."

"Well it's not gonna happen now he's depressed again."

"Yeah, the guy looks real depressed," Paul said. 

We both looked over at Matthew played a second round of Trivial Pursuit, rocking back and laughing at something. 

"It's the pot," I reasoned.

"I gotta get some of that. Since your friend's not interested in Matt, point her out so I can have a crack." 

"Ain't gonna happen," I said. "Besides, you came with two of the hottest babes in sculpture."

Paul laughed. "That ain't gonna happen either. Those two know me too well. Maybe I'll throw Oleander at Matt and see if anything sticks."

"No!" I said too forcefully.

Paul's eyes narrowed to a squint. "You like him. I see the way you look at him," he said. "Hawk know about this?" 

I sighed. "Paul, please back off, I'll explain someday, okay?"

He put his hands up indicating he would do whatever I asked of him. "All right, don't bite my fuckin' head off. Who's handing out the Maui Wowie?"

"Benton Asuncion from graphic arts."

"Benton, my man!" Paul called out sounding like the guy's best friend in the world. Benton waved and frowned for he had no idea who Paul was. 

The Trivial Pursuit game finally broke up with Matthew as crowned champion. With a big goofy grin, he walked my way. 

"Like the local pot?" I asked. 

"Beats the Ohio ditch weed I'm used to," he said with a mellow grin. 

"You are a master at movie trivia," I said.

"Rubbed off from my best friend back in Ohio."

"The one who swiped your girl?" I stupidly asked and immediately wish I hadn't for he winced as the negativity pierced his mellow cloud.

"No not that fuck Clifford," he said then frowned as he took a few seconds to gather his thoughts. Finding his way again, he continued, "Randal, my real best friend. The guy lived in a movie theater. Made me sit through a Betty Davis film festival once."

"Randal sounds gay," I said with a laugh.

"You think?" he said and laughed too.

"I have to be at the airport by ten tomorrow and you're the driver," a pleasantly drunk Hawk informed me from behind. He put his arms around me and kissed my neck.

Enjoying his drunken brazenness, I laughed. 

"You can stay if you like," I told Matthew as Hawk necked me. "Anyone here can give you a ride back to campus." I honestly didn't want him to stay with the likes of Sally and Oleander from sculpture about.

"Naw I got my buzz on. I'm ready to go too." Matthew said.

Relieved at his wise decision, we gathered our stuff and headed to the parking lot. On the way out, I got a curious look from Paul Gleason. 

Matthew sat in the back, Hawk rode shotgun. Within minutes, both guys were asleep and I drove the whole way back to campus in silence. In the parking lot of the dorm towers, I rousted the slumbering pair. I got out with Matt to walk him to the entrance of his dorm building and Hawk went to park the Bronco. There were four circular dorm towers in all; each looking like forlorn refuges from a fifties architectural magazine. Mat roomed in tower two across from Hawk's. 

"Have a nice time?" I asked.

"Yes I did, "he said then added shyly, "Hawk's a lucky guy." 

His odd compliment made me blush. Impulsively, I gave him a quick soft kiss on the mouth.

"So are you Matthew," I told him softly.

"Call me Matt," he said with a puzzled expression. 

I smiled at him then walked toward Hawk's dorm building knowing that his eyes were on me as I retreated.

Chapter 20 In the Round

Hawk stood waiting for me at the entrance of his building. He hugged me. 

"Next semester I'll be at faculty housing with a real size apartment and bed," he said. 

"Too bad. I like your little room crammed with surfing stuff and the junk from your work. I'm gonna miss it." 

He laughed. "The words little room is an understatement. More than half my stuff is in paid storage." 

As we rode the elevator up to the twelfth floor he said, "I though you planned on jump the guy tonight?" 

"No, I'm too tired for anything like that. Did you like him?" 

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it does," I said a little hurt.

Hawk chortled. "I liked him, the dude's funny and sharp. He's got a thing for you that's for sure." 

"You got a thing for me?" I asked as I backed into him. 

"Yeah, I got a thing for you." 

"You certainly do," I said exploring the stiff length in his surfer jams. Then a yawn nearly split my head in half. "But I'm too fucking tired to do anything about it." 

"Know what you mean. I'm beat too and I have to get up early to fly to Maui."

The elevator dinged and the door slid open. It was after one and we stepped into a quiet empty hallway and followed the circular corridor to his room. The moment the door closed behind us, we dropped the beach stuff and fell into each others' arms engaging in a lazy slow kiss. As the kiss advanced I felt my energy returning, Hawk's hands drifted down my back and roamed over my slim ass. 

At the end of the kiss I asked, "Feeling rejuvenated?"

"How the hell do you do this to me?" he demanded to know. "I seriously have to be up early tomorrow."

"Then get your hands off my ass." 

He pulled his t-shirt over his head; I undid my beach skirt. He sighed as if he were being forced to do an unpleasant chore, and then kissed me again. I couldn't keep my hands off his solid bronze chest and he returned the favor by roughly explored my front through the material in my one piece. 

"Did Matthew like the swim suit?" he asked abstractly as he kissed my neck and right shoulder. 

"His friends call him Matt, and I think he did," I said as I trailed kisses across his left cheek enjoying the feel of rough stubble. My kisses continued over the contour of his jaw then down his neck progressing to his hairless, smooth chest were I spent the time licking and biting his stiff nipples. He gasped and responded by sneaking his nimble fingers under the edges of my swimsuit. 

"Your ass is sandy," he said. 

"Just came from the beach, how surprising." I said, enjoying the solid feel of him against me. 

"You can take a shower here if you like," he whispered as he lowered himself to his knees and explored my nipples with his mouth through the material of my swimsuit. I shivered at the feel of his hot breath on my left nipple and shivered even more when he bit down. 

"I'd have to go down to the girl's floor on eleven to shower," I said trying to hold on to the conversation. All the circular dorm towers were set up the same, the odd floors were for females and the even for males. He bit the other nipple and I shivered some more, this time adding a breathy gasp 

"Get me a towel," I instructed as I pulled Hawk's head away from my chest. 

"You really gonna take a shower now?" he asked incredulous. 

I stepped away from him to show I was serious. With a shake of his head he went and got a fluffy, white bath towel from a stack of them in his closet. With his signature lustful leer he watched me peel my swimsuit off. 

"I think you like watching me undress more than fucking me," I told him as I absently dusted away sand particles from my pubic hair.

"It's all good," he said with a smile and handed me his shower basket with a bottle of shower gel, shampoo, and a scrub cloth. 

"I'll shower on this floor," I said with a barely contained grin.

"Whatever you like," he said so seriously distracted by my nakedness that he hadn't heard what I said. 

I wrapped the towel around me and opened the dorm room door. 

"Wait? Did you say you'll shower on this floor?" he asked as my comment finally got passed his erection to his brain. 

Not answering, I stepped out the door into the quiet curved hallway. Bare foot, dressed in just surfer shorts, Hawk followed me out. The showers were at the opposite side of the big circular hall from Hawk's room. Flushed with excitement I removed the towel and tossed it at him. 

"One more nude moment down. That leaves two left," I said with a casual voice invoking my lost bet from a month ago. 

"Holy fuck," Hawk whispered looking at my exposed naked body with wide unbelieving eyes.

I laughed enjoying surprising him like this. 

"Go get the camera before someone shows lolo haole," I scolded playfully.

He stepped back in his room and quickly returned with my towel over his shoulder and his digital camera in his hands. I posed in front of his neighbor's door to use as a marker. He flashed several pictures.

"Enough," I said.

He handed me my towel but I didn't take it. 

"See you around the bend," I said with a smile then casually walking off to the left swinging the small basket of shower goods. 

"I'm gonna put the camera away," he said to my retreating back. "See you at the bathroom entrance." 

I heard him open his door, and then I heard running bare feet fading as he hurried off in the opposite direction to the shower entrance. A thrilling panic seized me with each dorm door I passed urging me to run, but I held myself in check and kept walking. 

This is turning you on something fierce Japanee girl my lizard brain said.

And it's gonna get you expelled and Hawk fired my logical brain added. 

My luck held out and no one stepped out of any of the room doors. All I had to do was get pass the stairwell door and I would be at the showers. Then to my dismay, the stairwell door pushed open and a girl and guy stepped out. The girl was Filipino, very pretty and petite, the guy Asian mix. They both froze gaping at my nakedness.

"Oh my God, you okay?" The girl asked in accented English. 

I blushed and automatically bent at the waist, slashed my left arm over my B-cups and covered my pubic area with my right hand although it was kind of pointless for I was naked no denying it. Plus, I had to admit that getting caught was turning me on. "Playing truth or dare," I said finding a dumb but plausible excuse for my nudity. I straitened up, dropped my arm and removed my hand.The girl's eyebrows went up and she shook her head. The guy on the other hand stared unblinking. 

"Excuse me," I said politely and walked pass the pair continuing on to the shower a few feet away. I could feel their eyes on me and a thrilling mixture of embarrassment and electric sexual passion flowed through me. Hawk wasn't at the entrance of the bathroom like he said he would be and I wondered if he had gone back to his room to hide. Coward. 

"No look stupid," I heard the girl say. Following her words with a hard slap.

"Hey, no make!" the guy complained. 

"Truth or dare huh? Fast thinking." Hawk remarked. He was hiding just inside of the door of the bathroom holding my towel over his arm like a waiter. 

"Thought you'd chickened out," I said, and walked pass him to the shower stalls. 

"I'll stand guard," he said and stood at the line of sinks occupying the same wall as the shower stalls. The three stalls were partitioned off but had no doors. I figured if someone came in I could easily hide behind a partition and not be seen. I picked the stall at the end. Barely a minutes into my shower a naked Hawk stepped in with me. 

"Shouldn't you be watching the door?" I asked, but not at all upset that he had joined me.

"What if a guy had came in and saw me lingering at the shower stalls across from the urinals?" 

"That would look pretty bad," I agreed. 

"I would have to let them see you to prove I'm not some kind of peeping tom. Either way goodby tenure." As he spoke, he lathered me down with shower gel. In the middle of a wet, soapy kiss, we heard a urinal flush and we both jumped out of our skins.

"Oh shit," Hawk whispered and shoved me in the corner between wall and partition. He peeped around the edge to get a look at the intruder. A few seconds later Hawk said, "Never saw him. Dude didn't wash his hands." 

"How unsanitary,' I said. 

Awash with hot sexual from our near discovery, I unsubtly lapped at the hot water running down Hawk's chest with my tongue and lips. A minute later, the sound of a flushing urinal spoke of a second intruder. Hawk gave me a disapproving look as I peeped around the partition to watch a hulking Hawaiian guy soap and rinse his hands at the sinks. The big guy left without a glance at the shower stalls. 

"We're pushing our luck. We better get out," Hawk said. 

"But not before this," I said as I turned my butt to him. It was clear what I wanted him to do.

"No way, we'll get caught for sure," he protested.




Naked Portraits Pt. 03



"I'm in that mood, I'll come in three."

"You one dirty Japanee girl," he said as he gripped his erection and entered me.

I gasped and had to chomp my lower lip to keep quiet. He pulled back then pushed in again. My hands were flat against the tile partition, my position a bit awkward, but as predicted, my orgasm swept through me on his third thrust. My only regret was that I had to bite back on my vocalizations. Before my body subsided from my orgasm, I pulled free of Hawk, dropped to my knees and engulfed his stiff wet organ. As I worked his sweet shaft, Hawk killed the shower and coxed me back to my feet. 

"We'll finish me in the room you nut," he said.

We dried quickly with the one towel, and then I wrapped the towel around me. Hawk reached for his board shorts hanging on the clothing hook. An insane hair crept up my butt and I yanked the shorts from his hand, dashed out the door, raced to the trash chute by the stairwell, flipped the metal door open, threw the shorts in and slammed the door shut after it. 

"Those were my favorite board shorts," Hawk said exasperated standing naked and fully erect next to me. 

I yelped when he yanked the towel from my body and sent it down the trash chute after his shorts. 

With a genteel bow, he offered his arm. I took it and we strolled naked down the curved hallway to his room. I couldn't help but gaze sideways at his erection as it bobbed and swayed with each step. We walked casually, each playing it cool, not wanting to give the other the upper hand. Finally we reached his door. Reluctant to end the thrill, I pushed him against his door and kissed him exalting in our nakedness loving the feel of his erection pressed between us. 

The distinct sound of slapping of rubber flip-flops came rapidly our way from the left. Without thinking I turned the the nob on the door and Hawk slipped out of view and shockingly, shut the door behind him leaving me in the hall. I tried to follow him in but the door wouldn't budge, apparently, Hawk was blocking it from the other side. I turned, holding back my panic as the person cam into view. Stupidly, I tried to look casual. The slapping footsteps belonged to the same pretty Filipino girl I had seen at the stairwell earlier. 

"Dare," I said. 

"You are very pretty," the girl said. Her face flushed red as she headed around the bend of the hallway disappearing out of sight.

When I heard the door to the stairwell open and close, I whispered at Hawk's door, "Open up you asshole." 

"Coast clear?" he asked peeping his head out.

"Asshole," I reiterated.

Hawk laughed as he stepped aside to let me in. The moment the door closed, I slapped his naked white ass as hard as I could enjoying his howl of pain.

Chapter 21 Japanese Woman at the Café Terrace. 

I awoke with Hawk curled up around me. It was Sunday morning and the poor man was forced to reschedule his Maui trip due to our spontaneous late night lovemaking. I snuggled against him filled with self centered pride that I could alter the plans of an entire science department with just the simple wiggle of my ass. Well, I did a lot more than just wiggle last night, and had several sore spots to prove it. 

Famished, I rousted Hawk out of bed and we went down to the Aloha cafeteria that fed the dorm towers and the surrounding student housing sprawl. I piled my tray up high with delicious fried rice topped with scrambled eggs and Portuguese sausage backing it all up with a blanket of ketchup. Hawk tucked into a bowl of granola with fat free milk and fresh fruit.

"Aren't you worried our antics last night might get you fired?" I asked as I stuffed my face with sinful sodium and fat. 

"Nope. If it happens I'll go back to pro surfing and posing naked for calendars," he said with a shrug as he shoved a chunk of pineapple into his mouth.

I laughed around a mouth full of Portuguese sausage. I knew he was kidding about posing naked for calendars ... I think.

"You promised to take me to the Honolulu Contemporary Museum today," I told him.

"Were we having sex when I made that promise?" He asked munching granola. 

"Yes haole boy." 

**********

The Honolulu Contemporary museum was showing a collection of rarely seen impressionists and post-impressionist paintings. The paintings belonged to a local family that had made it big in the pineapple industry a hundred years ago. The most notable piece in the collection was a rare Van Gogh. As we waited in line to get in, Hawk hummed the tune to 'Vincent' by Don Mc Lean. The song triggered a powerful memory. 

Betty and I were huge Van Gogh fans and at seventeen we naively thought that we were the only people in the world that knew about him. Vinny, as we liked to call him, was our personal saint of misunderstood artistic pain. Whenever the Mc Lean song came on the radio it would floor us and we cried like old aunts at a funeral vowing never to forsake our artistic principles. Thinking of those moments with Betty threatened to make me cry, and it pissed me off too, so I slammed a blockade around the memory and forced myself to think of something else. The something else was Matt at the art grad picnic last night. In the light of day, I felt embarrassed at my clumsy attempt at seduction. 

My head popped back to the present as the line started moving. I wondered absently if Van Gogh would be happy or perplexed by the hubbub. My guess would be happy ... we artist love creating a stir.

Finally, we made it into the museum and worked our way to the Van Gogh. The painting was of a lone woman in a white dress seated at a café table. A lime green tablecloth covered the table and a wine bottle with a half filled wine glass rested on it. The background was a warm bright yellow with orange lines on the right edge that hinted at a window or a door and the floor was bright shocking red. An elaborate hat obscured most of the woman's face. Embroidered over her heart on her left breast was an a snake or serpent in the shape of an S. 

"She looks like you," Hawk observed.

"A little," I said vaguely. 

From art history lessons, I learned that Japanese block prints were everywhere back when Van Gogh and the French Impressionists were doing their thing. The influence of the Japanese block prints were evident in their work. Van Gogh probably had one in mind when he painted this. I looked at the title tag, Japanese Woman at the Café Terrace. 

"Isn't that the café he painted at night?" Hawk asked. 

I nodded. "And if you're thinking of Van Gogh working at night with candles in his hat, forget about it, that's total bullshit. It never happened." 

"I thought the idea of painting with candles in your hat kind of cool."

"Doesn't work, "I told him.

"And you know this how?" 

"One drunken night I tried it after seeing Kirk Douglas in the movie Lust For Life. I quickly found out that painting with your hat on fire is an amazingly stupid, not to mention doing it drunk." As I was about to elaborate more on my pyrotechnic mishap, behind us, a deep male voice speaking in Japanese made me pause. 

"It amazes me how thickly Van Gogh painted. It's more like sculpture really." the man said.

My grandmother would be proud that I had gotten all that. The accent sounded Tokyo. I turned to look at the owner of the voice. The guy, obviously Japanese, looked my age, twenty five or so. He was my height at five six with a handsome chiseled face, athletic build with a nice all over tan. His sun streaked brown hair was short on the sides and long and floppy on top. He wore a white polo shirt, khaki shorts, and comfortable sandals. Simply put, the guy was gorgeous. 

Next to this handsome man was his matching female bookend: long, dark brown, sun streaked hair, tanned, with a figure close to mine but enviably fuller up top. She wore a simple but flattering lavender top and white caprice jeans that looked stylish on her. Expensive Teva flip-flops adorned her feet. 

The couple took no notice of me; their eyes glued to the Van Gogh. The man spoke on in Japanese about the painting to his companion. 

"The actual title is unknown. The current title 'Japanese Woman at the Café Terrace' was the invention of a French art dealer sixty years ago and the name stuck. The experts agree that the painting was done about the same time as 'Café Terrace at Night' but disagree that the painting is of the same local."

A small reproduction of Café Terrace at Night was off to the left so viewers could compare the two. 

"It could be the same place," I interjected in Japanese. "But the night painting's tables didn't have tablecloths but both paintings do share the same hot yellow background and bumpy floor." 

The pair looked at me and smiled. 

"Your accent is unusual." the woman said."Where are you from?"

I laughed. "I'm a Honolulu girl but my great-grandparents were from Tokyo way back. My Japanese is a little rusty. I hope I'm not offending you." 

"You speak well." the man said with a smile that dazzled me. 

A bit flustered, I bowed my thanks. Because of the crowd, we moved on. The Japanese couple went one way and Hawk and I in another. I filled Hawk in on the small conversation with the couple and noted Hawk's eyes were on the retreating butt of the woman in her tight white pants. 

"Like the view?" I asked. 

"Like the guy?" He asked back. "I saw you giving him the once over." 

I blushed embarrassed at being so obvious and wondered if the Japanese woman saw how I had ogling her companion. "Yeah, he reminds me of an old high school crush," I confessed sheepishly. The crush was Aaron Fernandez, prince of the Honolulu Dairy empire but I kept that to myself, thinking of Aaron led to Betty. 

We took in the rest of the museum then went to find the coffee shop. Unfortunately, the place was crammed and a line of people waited for tables. As we turned to go a man waved at me from across the crowded café floor. It was the Japanese guy and his companion. I nudged Hawk and we weaved our way to the couple and sat in the two empty seats at their table. 

"Thank you," I said in Japanese. 

"My pleasure," the man said in his language with an easy smile. "I am Kira Kokura and this is my wife Emiko we are from Tokyo." 

I guessed right about his accent. I introduced Hawk just as a waitress showed. We made our orders, and with pauses for translation, we learned more about the charming couple.

Emiko was a legal assistant for a big Tokyo law firm and Kira an architect. Both had a passion for western fine art and shared a fascination for Van Gogh. The biggest surprise was their age, both were forty-two for I figured they were my age. But Forty two? Noway! As I admired the healthy pair, I prayed that I looked as good in my forties. Hell! I wished I looked that good now!

"It was karma. We met in Amsterdam at the Van Gogh museum," Emiko said with a warm affectionate smile for her husband. 

"I would have propose to you that day if you weren't with your stern father," Kira said. He gave a mocking stern look apparently in imitation of his father. 

Emiko laughed and punched his arm. 

"What are your professions?" Emiko asked politely. 

"I'm a graduate student at university," I said. "Hawk is a teacher in the anthropology department."

"Ah, like David Attenborough," Kira said. 

I laughed and translated to Hawk. 

"I wish!" Hawk said with a laugh. 

"What are your studies?" Emiko asked me.

I went quiet for a few seconds, reluctant to tell, expecting the usual disapproving look I always got from family members when they find out that I'm an art major. Hesitantly, I said, "I'm an art major. My studio focus is painting." To my surprise both their faces lit up. 

"Oh painting. How exciting," Emiko said with enthusiasm.

"Do you have a style you work in?" Kira asked with equal interest.

"Abstract like Jackson Pollock," I said sure that they wouldn't know much about Pollock.

" American Abstract Expressionism," Emiko said. "I like Pollock and Rothko but Motherwell is my favorite. He was married to Helen Frankentheler was he not?"

"I don't know," I said impressed by Emiko's knowledge.

"I'm a bit old fashion and favor the impressionist and expressionist," Kira said. 

Having a conversation with Japanese people who thought that being an artist was interesting and exciting was so refreshing. We talked art the whole hour. Finely, decided to give up our table when we saw that the line was still long with people trying to get into the coffee shop. Hawk and I offered to pay the bill as thanks for the open seats. Kira would have none of that. 

"Even in Japan students and teachers are penniless," Kira said. "As a student I lived on nori, dried squid and instant coffee. We will pay." He gallantly pealed bills from a fat wad of money.

I laughed and didn't argue. Outside the café we said our goodbyes. Reluctant to let them go so easily, I voiced a sudden idea. "Would you like a tour of the art facilities at the university?" 

They both looked wide-eyed and then nodded in sync with matching smiles.

"That would be most grand!" Emiko said. 

"Oh yes please!" Kira added. "We were going to the Honolulu botanical society garden after this." He made an exaggerated yawn. Emiko elbowed him in the ribs. 

"It's because you're a city boy. Your only experience with nature is creepy little bonsai trees. I'm a country girl and need to be around growing things or I go mad." 

I told Hawk our plans. We waited at the entrance of the Museum in Hawk's Bronco for the Kokuras to pull behind in their rental car. 

"You sweet on the guy aren't you." Hawk stated casually on the drive over. 

Detecting a hint of jealousy I said, "I like them both. Do you know how hard it is for me to find Japanese people who don't think I'm a complete idiot for being an art major? I'm hanging on to that pair for as long as I can." 

Hawk laughed.

Chapter 22 Art Tour

We parked both vehicles at the anthropology loading dock. Hawk gave the Kokuras a guest parking tag to put on their dash so they wouldn't get ticketed or towed. Fewer than five minutes after parking the cars, we stood at the entrance to the ceramic wheel room on the bottom floor of the art building were I chose to start the tour. Even though it was Sunday, the place was packed with students as midterms was just around the corner. 

We walked through the ceramic wheel room. There were five rows in all, six wheels per row and just about all the wheel had a student leaning over it. The Kokuras rubbernecked as we traversed the busy space. Once outside, we crossed the open ceramic courtyard to the glazing room. Huge metal vats of glazes lined one wall. Like the wheel room, every work space had a student doing something. At one worktable nearby, a petite Filipino guy stood on a chair pouring a watery white glaze over a life size sculpted head of a rhinoceros. The student doing the pouring was Emmett Magalan, a grad like me. 

I asked Emmett if it were okay for the Kokuras to take his picture. He said sure and the Kokuras got out their cameras and clicked away at Emmett working on his the rhino head. 

"Where is the body?" Hawk asked.

"Firing in a monster kiln right now, the whole thing was too big to do all at once," Emmett said seriously. 

"No way! I was just joking," Hawk said impressed. 

Emmett beamed him a huge smile and said, "I'm working on a giraffe next. Wanna see my finished tiger?" 

I translated for the Kokuras and they both nodded emphatically. Emmett haphazardly splashed the remainder of the watery glaze onto the rhino's head, hopped of the chair he was standing on and lead us to a walled in open courtyard behind the glazing room. The surprisingly large open air space was lined with huge pots and clay sculptures in various stages of completion. Until this moment, I hadn't know the space existed. 

"Welcome to the graveyard where grad projects come to die," Emmett said dramatically. "There are things here that go back years."

"Is that an Egyptian sarcophagus," I asked in awe.

The sarcophagus stood seven foot tall resting up right in a spot near the center of the far wall. 

"You guys have been stashing things here a loooong time," Hawk joked.

Emmett laughed. 

"As not real silly boy," Emmett told Hawk with an affectionate punch at his arm. 

Emiko got out her camera and approached the sarcophagus. I wasn't sure about the rest of the coffin but the lid look like it was made of solid ceramic. Emiko ran her fingers across the shiny blue embossed head of a cat on a human female body. 

"The Egyptian goddess Batset," Hawk said to her. She turned and looked at Hawk, smiled and held his gaze a bit too long I thought. I looked to see what Kira's reaction was but he was looking at something else.

"There's my tigress," Emmett said and we all tuned to look. Between two six-foot tall Greek like urns was a life-sized tiger. Even in its stony unglazed state the beautiful creature seemed real and ready to pounce on some poor unsuspecting animal or person.

"Holy shit!" Hawk barked. We all turned and were equally startled by what he saw too. It was a full-sized alligator with its mouth agape, glazed in realistic greens and grays. 

"That's Rizzo. I did her when I was still under the seduction of sexy glazes," Emmett said, "Tigress won't get that treatment. I let the clay speak for itself now." He ran a loving hand over the stony head of his crouching tiger. The Kokuras put their cameras to use taking shots of Tigress and Rizzo. Kira got on the ground and put his head in the frightening realistic mouth of the alligator. Hawk and I laughed as Emiko took a photo of her husband in peril, which wasn't far from the truth because Rizzo's white teeth looked sharp. I was the only one who saw Emiko turn her Camera on Hawk and steal a shot of him.

After much thanks and bows to Emmett from the Kokuras, I walked my little party to the warehouse size kiln room. Naturally, it was oppressively hot in there as several of the large walk-in kilns were roaring at full blast. A student attendant let us look into the unreal, red fiery hell of one of the giant kilns through a peephole. The heat finally drove us out of the kiln room. We moved from one literal hot spot to another; the glass blowing department. 

In glass blowing, the heat came from the yellow-orange fires of four roaring furnaces. Fortunately for us, we stood far enough away from the full brunt of the fires but the students didn't have that luxury. Because of the heat, all of the males went shirtless and the females stripped down to bikini tops or sports bras and everyone wore sunglasses to protect their eyes from the almost white glare of the furnaces. With all of the scantily clad sweaty young people wearing shades, the glassblowing department was the sexiest spot on campus hands down. 

After glassblowing, we wandered into the insanely busy sculpture yard. The place was a riot of noise: pounding on metal, pneumatic tools, jackhammers, power tools, shouting students and several sources of blaring rock music. The sculpture courtyard's atmosphere was the opposite of the restrained painting department up stairs. It confound me how anyone stayed focused down here. 

Our timing was perfect as we got to watch a group of students in the process of pouring molten bronze into plaster investments. Among the group were Sally Higgins and Oleander Wong the sculpture departments designated hotties, the very pair that had escorted Paul Gleason to the grad party the night before. 

Sally Higgins, a leggy bosomy thing, had her long blonde hair tied back in a no nonsense ponytail. She wore tiny daisy duke cutoffs and an over taxed t-shirt. Oleander Wong stood at an even five feet. Her long, black shiny hair told of her Hawaiian-Chinese heritage. She wore a black sports bra and painted on black biker shorts. I noticed that both Kira and Hawk's eyes flickered over the sexy forms of the girls. Kira got a couple of jabs in the ribs from his wife for his ogling. This was the second time I've run a foul of Sally and Oleander's charms, so I gave Hawk a poke in the ribs too. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 03



Two students dressed in fire proof spacesuits with hoods (I didn't envy the pair one bit for it must be hotter than Kilauea in those suits) stepped up to a blazing portable furnace. Sally, gave us a blow by blow of the processes and I translated to the Kokuras. 

"Today is a big pour." She pointed at a square open pit in the shop cement floor. "Those grayish, white cylinder things in the sand pit are called investments. The plaster investments have been cooking in a thousand degree oven overnight to melt out the wax shapes inside them. The plaster investments were just taken out of the oven seconds ago. They have to be hot as the metal is poured or they'll explode." 

The word explode, in English and Japan, made me and my group backup a couple of steps. Sally smiled at our squeamishness and continued describing the action.

"The bucket with the molten bronze, sitting on the mini blast furnace is called the crucible. The people doing the pouring, the guys in the spacesuits, will pick up the crucibles with iron thongs and place it into the collar. The collar is that iron circle with two long poles on either side. The spacesuits will then pick up the crucible by the long poles and pour the molten metal into the hot investments in the sand pit one at a time." 

The spacesuits started filling the hot plaster investments with the the liquified bronze. No explosions happened, but one plaster investment sprung a leak dramatically jettisoning molten bronze into the sand pit. Sensing disaster, Kira, Emiko, Hawk and I edged closer to watch. Undaunted, the spacesuits kept poring the molten metal into the hemorrhaging plaster investment. Calmly, Sally Higgins retrieved a length of re-bar and pressed it at the leak until the bleeding stopped. Apparently such blowouts were routine. 

"Is some one going to be short bronze?" Emiko asked.

I translated for Sally.

"We account for that," Sally said as she casually tossed the length of re-bar aside with a ringing clang. The pour continued until the last investment was filled. The space suited students backed away with the crucible and emptied the left over metal into a tray. Immediately, students swarmed the smoking investments picking them up with heavy gloves and iron thongs, gingerly carried them to metal barrels filled with water and dropped them in. The water hissed and boiled. The process was noisy and stinky, but it didn't take long to strip away the plaster investments to expose the solidified bronze pieces hidden within. 

Sally's bronze, the biggest of all the pieces poured, was a rough looking female bust about a quarter the size of a full grown person. It had no head, arms or legs, the thing was all boobs hips and butt.

"Venus of Willendorf!" Kira barked in English with an excited laugh.

"It's based on that ancient carving," Sally confirmed with a proud smile as she crouched on her haunches looking up at Kira. The chick's leg muscles were a sight to behold in that position. Sally said, "The swirling designs are my own creation, the original is nowhere near this size." Still crouching, she hefted the blackened bronze figure onto her shoulder then stood up. Her casual show of strength was impressive for the bronze figure she hefted had to be over fifty pounds. She waved for us to follow as she headed for the sculpture metal workshop.

"You are one strong woman," Hawk said to Sally as we followed the picturesque blonde in her daisy dukes.

"The thing's hollow and not as heavy as it look'" Sally told him.

I noticed Hawk's eyes on Sally's ass so I slapped his arm and gave him a look. 

"What's this Venus of Willendorf?" Emiko asked me as we followed Sally. 

"The original Venus was found in Austria near a town named Willendorf," I told her. "It's a fertility figure that is over twenty thousand years old, probably the oldest known carved human figure. The original Venus was small enough to hold in your hand." 

In the workshop, Sally plopped her fresh sculpture next to three other Venuses in different stages of completion. Emiko ran her fingers over one of the finished Venuses. 

"They are beautiful." Emiko said.

I translated. Sally was so pleased with the compliment, that she gave the Kokuras each a tiny hand sized bronze version of her Venus. 

"This is too much we should pay," Emiko said humbly.

"It would be bad luck to receive such a fine gift without payment," Kira added. 

"They feel they should pay," I told Sally. "They feel that it would bad luck to receive something of value without payment." 

"I'll take two sodas from the vending machine as payment then," Sally said amused at the culture divide. 

I translated and Kira immediately went out to the soda machine down the hall and returned with the two drinks. He handed them to Sally with a polite bow. 

"Oleander! I got you a soda!" Sally called out. 

Oleander ambled into the workshop. Almost all of her exposed skin was covered in dirt, and sweaty grime. Cradled in her left arm was a blackened twenty-inch long penis ringed with sharp metal spikes. Sally handed her the soda. I caught Kira eying Oleander's retreating ass in her skintight biker shorts. That should have earned him a fresh shot in the ribs from his wife had she not been so focused on the two small fetishes in her hands. 

I smiled at how well the tour was going then I saw Sally give Hawk a little Venus too and then batted her eyes at him. Ugly jealousy flared, and then I felt like a heel when she handed me one too. As my hackles smoothed, I studied the crude little bronze statue in my hand. A brownish black patina gave it a stony look. 

An odd feeling descended on me. Inexplicably, the little Venus and the carved goddess from Maui overlapped in my mine's eye. My head swam for a couple of seconds and I thought I was going to fall over. I looked around desperately for someplace to sit.

The rude sound of someone pounding away on sheet metal nearby made me jump snapping me out of my odd little spell. No one seem to notice my strange little moment. Suddenly needing to get out of the sweltering sculpture yard, I led my little group to the nearest stairwell and took them up stairs to my country, the quieter world of two dimensions: painting, print making and photography. 

The upper floor swarmed with desperate activity, but unlike the sculpture yard, there was no blaring rock-n-roll. Upstairs in the world of 2D, we were more introvert and plugged into personal devices for our background noise. 

Outside the main painting studio we encountered two students from the materials and techniques class putting the finishing touches on a fresco mural. This was their final midterm project, a wall fresco using age-old renaissance techniques. The image they worked on was a remake of Da Vinci's Last Supper. In their version though, the figures wore contemporary clothes. The Christ figure had on a white t-shirt with the words John 3:16 across the front. You could see under the table and Christ had on jeans and Birkenstock, the rest of the apostles wore brand name running shoes. One of the students must have a foot fetish because the feet and shoes were done in such loving detail. 

"It's sad," I said in Japanese, "this all gets destroyed and a new one goes up next year." The Kokuras looked horrified that such a work of art would be destroyed prompting them to pull out their cameras and snap away for prosperity's sake. 

We stepped into the drawing studio and watched a gal named Lucy drawing monumental six-feet tall lemons in charcoal. 

The familiar smells of linseed oil and turpentine greeted us as we stepped into the painting lab. several artist were finishing up works for the figure painting midterms. One student worked on a nude of an Asian woman standing at a Honolulu bus stop at night in what looked like the Waikiki area. The painted figure looked otherworldly, alien yet beautiful in orange halogen glow.

"She has no shadow," Kira observed.

We slipped out of the painting studio and I led my little party toward print making were we stood outside a glass wall looking in. Students in groups of three surrounded numerous hand operated lithograph rolling presses. Some applied ink to stones, others rolled the presses and some hung wet prints on wires with clear plastic clips. A series of prints reminiscent, of Eduard Monk's scream hang on a wire near the door.

"Would it offend the artist if I offered to buy one?" Kira asked.

"I don't think so," I reassured him as I suppressed a laugh. I rapped on the glass to get the attention of the group near the glass. A Hawaiian girl came to the door and pushed it open. The smell of ink and solvent hit me making me glad I was outside. 

"This guy wants to buy one of the prints."

Hawaiian girl turned and looked back at the distorted screaming face in the print. 

"Really? Um ... how much?" she asked sounding stunned. I could tell she had no idea what to price her prints, probably because she's never sold one before in her life.

"What is your offer?" I asked the Kokuras. 

"A print of that quality?" Emiko said. "Three hundred American."

I thought that was too high for a student work but I wasn't about to get in the way of a fellow artist making a buck so I told the girl and she nodded emphatically. The Kokuras left with a signed and numbered print and a broke ass fellow artist was three hundred dollars richer.

Next came fiber arts and paper making. We entered one room that was filled from floor to ceiling with large hanging red, orange and brown sheets of paper. The place smelled of cinnamon, paprika and hot wax, a big improvement over the solvent stink of printmaking. After walking among the hanging papers we soon discovered that it was not several pieces, but one single giant piece. In one corner of the large room, we found the artist, a big hulking gentleman named Darin, brushing sweet and savory spices along with hot wax from a bubbling fondue maker to his monstrous hanging paper tapeworm. The process enthralled Emiko. She was thrilled when Darin handed her a brush and allowed her to apply some sticky spicy wax to his creation. She would have spent the rest of the day there if her husband hadn't forcibly dragged her out of the room. 

I bypassed the graphic design department mostly due to snobbery, we fine artists don't consider graphic art majors artists, not fair and not true, but what can you do? 

I led my group into the rat warren of grad student studios and eventually to my little studio number three thirty seven. I offered everyone beers from my little fridge then gave the Kokuras a look at my work. I sat on my little loveseat with Emiko sifting through portfolios of small paintings on paper, Hawk sat at my desk looking at my huge Van Gogh book, hoping to find something on the Van Gogh painting we saw at the Honolulu Contemporary. Kira stood looking at the cacophony of sketches and notes pined and taped to the walls. Stealthily, I admired his profile. On top of his obvious good looks, the man was charming in an old world kind of way. I particularly liked the way he had me laughing and giggling like a schoolgirl all day long. 

Then I realized that Emiko was looking at me looking at her husband. To cover up my deep embarrassment, I got up and pretended to look for something near my easel. Emiko made a sound and I cringed, readying myself for a curt rebuke. When none came, I turned to look at her and almost screamed. She was leafing through my special black and green portfolio of drawings. My chest constricted with panic as I rushed over to stop her. To my horror, she twisted away from me with the portfolio in her hands.

"This is fantastic," she said. 

The drawing she viewed was a 24 x 36 charcoal of me sitting nude cross-legged in a lotus position looking forward. It was one of many studies I had done for Shelly's New Dance. I covered my face as Hawk and Kira came over to see. The drawing was done in uncharacteristic photo-realism. The only part I took liberties with was the hair; I had left it flat black with no highlights.

"Shit," I whispered. 

"It's a beautiful drawing," Hawk said with his patented lecherous smile. "You have a great body. Be proud to show it." He gripped my shoulder in affectionate support. 

Hope you feel the same way in a second, I thought as Emiko leafed to the next drawing. Hawk's hand tightened on my shoulder. Emiko turned her head and looked up at me wide eyed, and then she looked at Hawk. 

"The likeness is uncanny," she told him. 

"She says the likeness is very good," I translated sheepishly. 

"You are one big boy," Kira said with a manly slapped at Hawk's shoulder. 

Emiko laughed stopped short and cleared her throat.

Hawk looked at me for a translation.

"He said you've been blessed," I told him softening the comment a bit. 

The drawing was of Hawk reclining naked reading a book with a full erection stretched across his stomach. Emiko's eyes focused on the real Hawk's crotch for a couple of seconds. She saw me watching her and her eyes quickly dropped to the drawing on her lap. 

Good, now we're even, I though with some satisfaction. 

Emiko went to the next drawing and it was of Hawk too. In the drawing he stood nude in profile with his surfboard under his arm. His erection echoing the graceful curve of the board. 

"I'm going to show all my surfer friends your nude photos," Hawk whispered in my ear.

"I'll fucking kill you if you do," I said as I held a fake smile. "Wait, you can show Professor Piedmont but not the rest." I sighed. "Since the cat's out of the bag ... " I got up and pulled the finished painting of Shelly from its hidden corner.

Everyone stared at the nude woman standing awkwardly in her vague blackish-gray world. 

"My God," Hawk said.

"It's like a John Singer Sargent," Emiko said in awe. 

"More like Rembrandt with those eyes," Kira said with equal awe.

"I Like her too," I said overflowing with joy at being compared to the likes of Sargent and Rembrandt. 

"She is beautiful," Emiko said. She looked at me with an odd expression and said, "May we take you and Hawk to dinner? Our hotel has a fine restaurant." 

"Oh yes please, as thanks for your kindness," Kira added with his eyes still on naked Shelly. 

"They would like to take us out to dinner at their hotel as payment for the good time we've shown them," I said to Hawk. 

Like Kira, Hawk's eyes were glued to Shelly and he absently nodded probably unaware of what he was agreeing to. Pleased and amused, I nudged him and said, "God Hawk, you pervert. You've seen the real me naked a billion times." 

I accepted the invitation to dinner. 

"Is Hawk's drawing true to life?" Emiko asked in a conspirator's whisper as we exited my studio. 

"No exaggeration," I said. Emiko blushed and we both laughed. 

"What's up?" Hawk asked.

"Just girl talk," I said.

Chapter 23 Japanese Exchange

The nude drawings Emiko discovered were the mildest in my new found stint as pornographic erotic artist. I don't know what I would have done if she had discovered the drawing I did of women giving head or of couples fucking in focused Kama Sutra detail. Thankfully, those drawings were better hidden. 

My resent exploration into explicit erotic art has made me rethink my personal theories on the female nude. Case and point the French impressionist Renoir. Like all his fellow impressionists, Renoir had a loose sketchy style of applying paint to canvas. But when he did nudes of frolicking big ass french girls, the looseness went away and he switched to a more realistic application. I always thought the switch was purely sexist and that he just liked looking at naked girls. And Now, I'm positive that I'm right. When it comes to producing erotic images, impressionism and abstraction fall way short of the mark. Like Renoir, I want my naked people in sharp clear focus. When it comes to glorious erect penises the style of Edward Hopper in much more satisfying than Pablo Picasso. The serious downside was that I lie awake at night, worried that I have become an x-rated Norman Rockwell.

All this drifted through my head as I sat on the edge of my bed drying my hair with a blow drier. Hawk lay on the bed watching me. 

"Why do you abstract when you can create in such fantastic realistic detail?" he asked. 

"Why create poetry when you can write in clear understandable sentences?" I returned with some irritation. Why do people think that painting in the abstract is easy? 

"Sorry," he said at my apparent annoyance. He slid forward and kissed my neck and back. His hands slipped around and cupped my bra-covered breasts. My irritation quickly dissipated. He turned me around and covered my mouth with a kiss that quickly raised my temperature. We didn't come up for air for a long time. When we finally did, he said, "I love arguing artistic merits with you."

"I thing you just like feeling my tits. Now keep your hands to yourself haole boy. We have to get ready for dinner." I went back to drying my hair.

*********** 

Hawk and I arrived in the lobby of the Ala Wai Arms Hotel at about seven o'clock in the evening. I wore a nice white dress and applied what I called my nightclub face. I even broke out my pesky contacts. Hawk looked good too, in a dark green long sleeve silk shirt and black slacks. He even let me style his near shoulder length blond hair. When I was done he looked a little like Brad Pitt in the movie Troy, only more handsome. We put a call up to Kira and Emiko's room, and then went to wait for them in the hotel bar.

"You look great. Bet Kira will think so too," Hawk said. 

"I just felt like looking nice for once," I said liking that he might be a little bit jealous. 

"You been giving the guy the eye all day long," he said.

"You weren't shy about looking at Emiko's ass all day," I said. "Not to mention Sally and Oleander from the sculpture yard." 

"It was Sally's artistic abilities that interested me," he said. 

"And not her over stretched t-shirt or the world's smallest cutoffs around her curvy hips?" I asked with a glare. 

"FYI," Hawk said defensively, "I never even noticed Oleander's over stressed sports bra or the way the sweat ran down her flat stomach and soaked into the waist band of her biker shorts that covered her bodacious ass." 

"Bodacious? You having a Bill and Ted moment?" I asked with a giggle. I kissed him lightly on the mouth. Over Hawk's shoulder I saw Kira Kokura at the entrance of the bar. 

He looked great in a white long sleeve shirt and khaki cotton slacks. He had that manly, world traveler look about him. All that was missing was a floppy straw hat, a camel, and a couple of pyramids to complete the picture. 

Emiko joined him a second later and I let out an involuntarily gasp. Hawk turned to look and his eyes widened at the sight of her. She wore a red strapless dress that came to mid thigh, the clingy material accenting the graceful swells of her breasts with the perfect amount of exposed cleavage. 

"There's no way that dress came off a rack," I said feeling self conscious about my dress from Marshall's. Emiko's midsection was enviably flat and I made a pact to work on my abs on my next gym visit. Her sexy hips twisted subtly with each stride of her athletic legs. I could only imagine what the view from the back was like. A tasteful gold choker graced her neck and matching loop earrings hung from her ears. There was nothing girly about her, she was all woman. Hawk and I got up and went to meet them. Oddly, we all bowed formally and then went to the front of the restaurant and the hostess sat us at a nice table near a large glass wall overlooking Waikiki beach and Diamond Head crater. 

Dinner was pleasant and fun and the talk was mostly about art. Then shockingly, the topic of baseball came up and Kira and Hawk discovered a shared passion for the game. They both loved the San Diego Padres. Go figure? Apparently, there's some big time Japanese player from Tokyo playing for the Padres that Kira followed. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 03



To be part of the conversation I said, "I like the New York Yankees." 

That evoked a flat blank stare from Hawk. Even Kira had something close to a sneer on his handsome face. 

I put my hands up and backed off. 

After dinner, we retired to the bar and the guys got the bartender to put a Japanese baseball game on the TV. For two guys that didn't share the same language, they had no trouble understanding each other as they watched and talked about the game. Like me, Emiko had no interest in baseball. Apparently, female contempt for organized male sports held no national boarders.

Emiko and I left the guys at the bar and sat in a booth near by. I found out that she had been to the Louvre in Paris. After the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam, the Louvre was my life's Mecca. I begged for details. 

"On our anniversary last year Kira took me on a special tour based on the Larry Brown novel 'The Da Vinci Code,'" Emiko said. "The tour visited all the places in Paris touched on in the book." 

I burned with envy and hung on her every word and description. The wine flowed and the conversation found its way to Georgia O'Keefe, a favorite of Emiko's. Then logically we moved on to female genitalia, and that naturally led right to Hawk's big dick. 

"Is Hawk's penis truly that big?" Emiko asked leaning in close. 

I laughed. "Yes it is." 

She laughed too. The wine was loosing us up. 

"Back home Kira and I considered joining a club to..." I didn't get the last part and asked her to say it again. I didn't get it the second time either. She and I went back and forth and then I got it. 

"Wife swapping?" I said in English then I searched my brain and found the closest Japanese equivalent. 

"Yes! Wife swapping," she said as her cheeks went a bit pink. "We went to a gathering of couples that do such things but we both found everyone unsavory or a little bit crazy ... and ugly." She laughed. "A fat man like a sumo wrestler and his plump wife begged Kira and I to join them but we politely declined and then ran away from the party never to return." She laughed again and puffed her cheeks out and did a sumo pose on her side of the booth. 

I laughed too. 

Emiko continued. 

"We tried again and met up with a couple that was more to our liking through the internet. We almost went through with it but at the last moment, Kira backed out. The woman was very attractive but he did not like her personality, she was so cruel. The husband was handsome but had no..." I missed the last part. She pondered then said, "I'll use American word I know, no balls." 

I laughed she pronounced balls, bulls. 

"The cruel wife did all the talking and she treated her husband badly always calling him names. I could not make love to a weak man like that. We were very embarrassed and Kira and I walked away. The woman called us cowards as we left." Emiko shivered her shoulders dramatically. "Very bad experience." 

I shivered in sympathy. 

"We tried one more time with the internet but it failed again so we just gave up." She went quiet for a few seconds then leaned in and said very softly, "Would you and Hawk like to 'wife swap?'" 

She said wife swap in English. I should have seen where this was going, but because of the wine it took me by surprise. 

"Have you talked to Kira?" I asked unsure what else to ask. 

"No," she confessed, "but I know he likes you. I can tell because he tries to make you laugh." After a short pause she added, "You are very beautiful."

My face warmed at the blunt compliment. Unable to look her in the eye just yet, I looked over at Hawk and Kira. Something good must be happening with the Tokyo team because the guys clinked beer mugs then high fived. Kira was smiling. Smiling suited his handsome face. I looked back at Emiko whose face was very red. I saw that she wasn't approaching this lightly. 

"Why do this thing?" I asked. "Kira looks to be a good lover?" 

"He is, but we want some adventure," Emiko confessed. "We were married at eighteen, over twenty years now. We both crave new things but don't want to sneak around." She caught my eyes and said, "You and Hawk are very nice." She looked away from me and looked at her wine glass. She turned a deeper shade of red and said, "I like the idea of being with an American man." She took me by surprise by saying the next thing in accented English, "It turns me on." 

I sat stunned and tried to get my wine muddled head into focus. Emiko took my silence as rejection. 

"I have offended you," she said sounding deeply mortified. "I am being very rude." She bobbed her head in a tiny bow, and then made to get up. I put my hand on her arm making her sit back down. 

"How do we tell the men?" I asked her. She looked panicked for it seemed that she hadn't expected this to fly. I waited, allowing her time to think. 

"I will ask Kira," she said. 

She swallowed the last of her wine and then reached over and finished the last couple of sips in my glass too, and then she got up and walked to the bar. Her ass was spectacular in her designer dress. I watched her put her hand on her husband's shoulder lean in and speak into his ear. Kira swirled in his bar stool, looked at me then back at his wife. They exchanged more words then he looked back at me again. I smiled and shrugged. Kira excused himself from the bar and came to the booth and sat across from me. Emiko stayed at the bar with Hawk.

"Are you sure?" Kira asked. 

"Are you sure?" I returned. 

"I think so? What about Hawk?" 

"I'll go tell him." I got up and went to the bar feeling both excited and apprehensive. I sat in Kira's vacated stool and looked at Hawk. "Emiko and Kira want us to join them in their room." 

"They want to finish the party up stairs? Sure." He drained his glass of beer then reached for his wallet to pay. 

"They want to swap are you interested?" 

He froze in the act of pulling bills from his wallet and then his eyes narrowed giving me an accusing look. 

"It was Emiko's idea, honest," I said instantly. 

Hawk looked at Emiko sitting on the other side of me at the bar. She smiled and gave him a goofy little wave. I got up and went to the booth, Emiko and Hawk followed. When everyone was seated again, I spoke in Japanese. 

"We move slow because we all have had a few drinks. I suggest we split up, Emiko with Hawk and me with Kira. We'll give ourselves an hour to get acquainted. If anyone of us changes his or her mind we end it no questions asked. Understood?" 

The Kokuras nodded in agreement. 

I translated for Hawk. 

Kira and I left the restaurant and followed a path that led us to the ocean. We took off our shoes and carried them as we walked side by side in the sand. We were hardly alone, it was a beautiful warm night and people were everywhere. We walked quietly for a little ways, waiting for the other to talk. This was crazy I thought. I've had too much to drink and should call this off.

"This is all fake you know," Kira said. 

My brow wrinkled in confusion. Was he criticizing the swap thing or was my Japanese failing me again? 

"Waikiki beach, all the way from diamond Head to Ala Moana Beach, is all man made." 

"I didn't know that," I said relieved that he was just making conversation.

"This was all swamp and rocky shore, no sand, and no hotels. Ironically, this area was the most undesirable real-estate on the island for a long time. Then they hauled in the sand and drained the swamps, put up breakers to calm the shore. The hotels soon followed." 

I didn't know any of this and was embarrassed that an outsider knew more about my home than I did. Moreover, finding out that my island's big tits were just an expensive boob job seemed so tacky. 

We found ourselves standing on a path lined with torches. I looked at Kira in the orange glow of the fire. 

"Was this originally your idea?" I asked him.

"No, Waikiki was made back in the twenties I think."

I laughed. "No, the wife swapping thing," I said.

"I know," he said with an embarrassed laugh. "This has been Emiko's idea from the start. She was a wild one when we were young. That fire still burns in her." 

We turned our heads and looked at each other. Then next we knew, we were kissing. The kiss was soft and quiet. The smell of his cologne mingled with the smell of the sea. His hands rested on my back. With every passing second our inhibitions melted away and we pressed in closer. My physical world was reduced to the the feel of his warm mouth and nothing else seem to matter. If passing tourists took notice of us, we didn't know ... or care. 

The kiss wound down, we separated, I looked into Kira's face.

"Let's go back and see how Emiko and Hawk are doing," I said.

He nodded and we walked back to the hotel side by side, inches apart, not daring to touch for we knew it would trigger another kiss. I couldn't speak for Kira, but I didn't want this to get any hotter only to find out Hawk or Emiko had called it off. As we waited for the elevator, we were the king and queen of restraint. But that lasted barely a second the moment the elevator door closed and we bashed into each other for another kiss and then pulled away instantly when the door chime sounded at Kira's floor.

Chapter 24 Kira and Emiko

We beat Emiko and Hawk back so were forced to wait. I sat in a chair near the balcony entrance; Kira sat on the edge of the big bed, both of us vibrating from the sexual tension in the room. I wanted to spring across the room, knock him flat on the bed and cover every inch of him with kisses. But I held myself in check, not allowing my crotch to do all the thinking ... for once. When did I become such a guy I wondered? 

To distract myself, I thought of a painting of Kira in the orange firelight of tiki torches with an indigo-black background in the style of Caravaggio. For a few seconds I covered my face with my hands and moaned internally for actually considering going Baroque.

Betty did? So why can't I? I thought recalling her painting of me and Venus the redhead. And it occurred to for the first time to wonder ... what had become of that painting?

The door opened. Emiko and Hawk were back. I immediately noticed Emiko had on a different dress and jewelry. She walked over to Kira, kissed his cheek and dropped a shopping bag on the side table. 

I looked at Hawk; he shrugged and said in a whisper, "We went shopping," but didn't elaborate beyond that. 

"What happened?" I asked in a forceful whisper demanding more information. He shrugged again and I elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ouch! She took me shopping you crazy local girl," He said through clenched teeth as he rubbed his ribs. 

"I thought that you liked the green one?" Kira asked admiring the new dress she wore. 

Emiko turned and posed for him. The dress was short, black and sexy. It was also translucent and I could clearly see her underwear beneath. 

"I changed my mind, I think that this one is sexier." Emiko said. She gave Hawk a small smile as she turned to posed again.

Emiko sat down with Kira on the bed, Hawk sat on the arm of the chair I was sitting in near the balcony door. The moment had arrived for us to officially decide if we were going to do this thing. No one spoke and everyone was looking at me. 

With my heart pounding like a taiko drum, I got up and closed the shades. Then I walked to the middle of the room and pulled my white dress over my head exposing my white silk lace bra and boyshort panties, both items were white but not a match. At home, I couldn't find the panties that matched the bra or the other way around and these two were the closest I could come up with. The sound of my pounding heart was deafening inside my own head. After smoothing down my hair I turned to Emiko. She sat on the bed unmoving staring up at me. 

Oh my God! Don't flake out now chick! I thought. It would be beyond humiliating to have to put my dress back on at this juncture. 

Emiko slowly stood. Hawk settled into the chair I had vacated, his eyes flickered from Emiko then back to me. Kira sat in the middle of the bed with legs crossed, his eyes locked unblinkingly on my near naked form. I liked the raw hungry look on his face. 

"Your dress is very sexy," I said to Emiko. 

"It will be good to go clubbing in but too revealing for any thing else," she said with obvious nervousness in her voice. She forced a smile, and then bravely pulled the new dress over her head revealing sexy red-laced bra and panties. Of course her underwear matched. She had that body that was both slim and curvy at the same time. The two extra inches at her chest made her look busty compared to me. There was no way this chick was forty-two. Hawk's eyes greedily danced up and down Emiko as she stepped toward him. My chest constricted as jealousy took hold.

Maybe this swap thing wasn't such a good idea my logical brain interjected

Irritated at my automatic reaction to Hawk's lust for Emiko, and determined to ignore my logical half, I turned to Kira on the bed, knelt before him and pulled the tucked shirt from his khaki slacks. I glanced over to see that Emiko quickly had Hawk down to his underwear and it rocked me when he pulled her in for a kiss. 

Had they kissed before coming back to the room? Why not? You kissed Kira, I reasoned. 

My shock turned to panic and just as I was about to call the whole thing off, Kira's hands flowed over my lace covered breasts. I turned to him, he had removed his shirt and I automatically ran my fingers over his tan hairless chest. We knelt facing each other and we kissed. I ended the kiss abruptly, and with lustful frantic hast, I freed him of his trousers. His erection strained at the material of his black briefs. Back on our knees, we kissed again. 

My hands roved over his smooth back and his hands stroked my neck. I absently remembered reading somewhere that men from Japan had a thing for necks. Hundreds of old Japanese prints of long necked maidens flashed in my head. Then for an odd brief second Van Gogh's Japanese Woman at the Café Terrace bobbed to the forefront. 

I ended the kiss, slid off the bed and stood. With hands shaking from excitement, I unhooked my bra exposing my B-cups.

"Stand up," I told Kira. He swung his legs to the floor. "Not on the floor, on the bed," I said. 

He complied and stood up on the firm hotel bed. I waved him closer then pulled his boxer briefs to his ankles. The height of the bed put his circumcised erection at about chin level. It jutted out at a near perfect ninety-degree angle, very different from Hawk's graceful banana like curve. Without the use of my hands, I took the head of his cock into my mouth. And then swallowed him down to the base, and then pulled back letting him bob free of my mouth. With my hands, I pushed the shaft against his stomach and took both of his balls into my mouth rolling them around with tongue and gentle suction. Then slowly, I pulled back allowing him to pop out of my mouth one ball at a time. Still holding his erection against his abdomen, I blew air on his wet balls for a couple of seconds, and then aggressively gripped the shaft and swallowed him to the base again. 

"Aye, careful," Kira gasped. "Keep that up and I'll come like a teenager." 

I freed his hardon from my mouth and smiled up at him. I held a hand out. Kira took it and stepped down from the bed.

Off to the side I heard Emiko say, "I want to see Gwen's beautiful drawing." 

"I'm curious to see it too," Kira whispered. 

Kira and I stood side by side and watched Emiko kneel before Hawk as if in prayer. Uninhibitedly, with steady hands I might add, she slid his briefs down spring his big erection free. Reverently, she gripped the shaft with both her hands. It impressed her that even with both hands, she couldn't fully grip all of him.

"Aye," she said softly.

"I had the same reaction the first time too," I said.

A highly charged thrill rippled through me as I watched Emiko take the tip of Hawk's penis into her mouth, but with the thrill, came a wave of ugly green jealousy again.

Get into this girl, I scolded myself. 

Kira got my attention when he slipped behind me and slid my panties down to my upper thighs until gravity took charge and they dropped to my ankles. Both his hands roamed around front, the left caressed my breasts, the right softly traced the pattern of my pubic mound, all the while pressing his erection against my backside. Eventually his stiff penis nestled between my ass cheeks pointing up. Just when his fingers were about to discovered my clitoris, he turned me around to face him and kissed me. Both my hands explored his balls and erection as we kissed. I liked that we were the same height. I stopped with my hands on his erection, pressed against him and explored his back and tight ass. 

My exploring sparked a frenzy of touching; his hands roaming everywhere with undisciplined desire. When he roughly gripped my ass cheeks. I responded by grinding my pelvis against his erection. My breasts screamed for attention too, so I stole his hands away from my ass, created a gap between us wide enough for him to feel my chest. He caressed both of my small mounds sending waves of pleasure in the direction of my crotch that screamed for its share of attention too, prompting me to push the his right hand down lower.

Shockingly, he roughly pushed me away from him. An expression of confusion clouded his handsome tanned face. "You have enchanted me. Are you are a sorceress?" he asked. 

I couldn't tell if he were serious or joking. My eyes sought Sally's two Venuses resting on the dresser. Kira followed my gaze then unexpectedly dropped to his knees before me. 

"Not a sorceress, a goddess," he corrected.

I smiled at his joke.

A line of warm wetness flow down my left thigh where it quickly cooled. Kira's leaned in and with the tip of his tongue trace the fresh line of moisture up my thigh to my opening and wet excited clitoris.

"Aye! be careful, you've made me into a teenager quick to come!" I said in hitching Japanese. 

Kira made a sound; I think it was a laugh. When his stiffen tongue hit just the right spot, I lost all strength in my legs. In a semi controlled fall, I collapsed backwards onto the bed. Kira crawled in after me but stayed low and wove his arms under my thighs. One of his hands drifted up to my breasts, and the other hand splayed my vaginal lips wide exposing my engorged clitoris. He put his warm mouth to work, tongue and teeth seeking out all the right spots. I gasped and cooed; he certainly knew his way around down there.

A sudden bounce knocked Kira off rhythm for a second as Emiko and Hawk joined us on the big bed. I heard her complain."Why are you going down on me and not fucking me?" but she quickly changed her tune. "Oh my, you are very good at this," she gasped. 

"What did she say?" Hawk's asked, his head popping up from between her legs. 

"This is a fine time ... to ask for a translation ..." I said around gasps of my own. With a great deal of focus I manage to translate for him. "She asked why are you going down on her and not fucking her?"

"Why has he stopped with his mouth?" Emiko demanded to know. 

"Now She's complaining because you stopped with your mouth." I quickly lost interest in Hawk and Emiko for Kira was about to drop me over the edge.

A primal force from deep in me pushed its way up looking for violet release. Just as I was about to scream from the madding pleasure, everything stopped. It was like someone had turned off a switch and I was no longer near the edge of orgasm. The flat of Kira's tongue pressed against my clitoris; both of his hands were on my breasts, his thumbs pressed in just below the nipples. I was still turned on, just no longer at the brink of orgasm. I lay blinking at the hotel's white ceiling, my body in a state of buzzing confusion wondering what the fuck had just happened. Lately, when my orgasm starts to roll in, it's like a Mack truck with no breaks on a downhill run. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 04



Welcome to part four. 

I googled the Van Gogh mentioned in part three and was surprised to find out that the painting was deemed a forgery just a couple of years ago. According to art experts, it was painted some fifty years after Vincent Van Gogh's death. What a bummer for the people who owned it.

The encounter with the Japanese couple, Kira and Emiko from Tokyo was a heavily documented event on the flash drive. For some reason, lots of people were very interested on what went on in that hotel room. Almost everyone in the room had been interviewed by more than one source. The only point of view missing was Gwen's and I had to construct her actions from what the other three had said. See you in part five. 

*********

Chapter 25 The First Three

As the semester rolled on, I started spending more time with Matthew Anderson and Paul Gleason. Even, Hawk developed a friendship with the pair. For the guys, it started with their mutual interest in pro football. Hawk is a Chargers fan, Matt likes the Browns, and Paul the Jets. I have a small affection for the 49ers because of my dad, but generally football bores me to tears. As an artist and feminist, I view all organized male sports as misogynistic wastes of money that could and should be spent on anything else. Because of my anti sports views, I'm excluded from participating in the conversation. Men sure waste a time of time talking about sports.

Midterms arrived and it swept over campus like a dark cloud of locus. During a tiny lull in the madness, Matt, Hawk, Paul and I sat at Mama Rosa's, a popular off campus hangout that served cheap pitchers of beer, watered down shots, and the most awesome hot sandwiches on the island. 

"Dude? Can you help me with a research grant proposal?" Hawk asked Matt, as he refilled his mug with beer. 

"You're asking for help with that thing?" I asked mildly surprised. Hawk rarely asking for help with anything. "He asked me to read it and it was too boring to get through," I said to Matt.

"That's why I'm asking for help. I need an art major to understand it." Hawk said. 

I slapped him on the arm for the jibe. 

"You got it with you?" Matt asked. 

Hawk seemed surprised at Matt's immediate request. He dug through his book bag and handed the paper to Matt. Right there at the table, Matt started reading the proposal.

Paul drained the last of his beer and stood up, "Unlike you geniuses, I gotta go study. Kleckner's art history is kicking my ass."

"I mistook a Georges Braque for a Picasso on one of his slide tests," I said. "Wrong or not write all you know. He'll give you points for that."

Paul gave a thumbs up and left.

Five minutes later Matt looked up from reading Hawk's document. "It's a little stodgy," he said.

"See, I told you it was boring," I said. 

"Shut up." Hawk said affectionately. "Can you help me fix this?" 

I blinked in astonishment; Hawk was almost pleading for help. Envy and admiration enveloped me as I looked at Matt. This twenty-year-old grunge reject was able to get through Hawk's thick defenses faster and deeper than I had. 

"I can squeeze you in between hot dates tomorrow night," Matt said.

End of term fatigue shortened the night the rest of us too. Matt walked back to the dorms and Hawk gave me a ride back to Waikiki in his Bronco. He parked in front of my building to let me out. I leaned in and kissed his warm mouth. It didn't take long for the kiss to arouse him, it never took much to get him going. I loved that about him. 

"Tomorrow's your birthday we should celebrate," I said.

**********

I showed up at Hawk's room at around seven in the evening totting a large canvas wrapped in brown craft paper. With a dramatic flair, I tore the paper away to reveal 'Damaged but Likable' the newly titled nude inspired by 'Shelly's New Dance.' 

"Holly shit!" Hawk barked, his mind totally blown. He took down the framed painting of the Ka'a'awa shore I had given him a while back and hung the unframed canvas in its place. He slipped behind me with his arm around me shoulders and we stood looking at the painting. 

"Awesome," he said.

"I think so too."

Hawk spun me in his arms, hugged and kissed me deeply, his erection a conspicuously twitching between us. The kiss ended and he spun me back around, cuddled behind me too admired my painting some more. 

"Is the boner against my ass for me or the painting?" I asked. 

"Yes," he said.

I laughed at his vague answer. "I wanna bring Matt in tonight," I said. 

"I thought after the Kokuras you got it all out of your system?" he said.

We looked at my painting for a long time and then I said, "If you don't want me to do this just tell me." 

Another lengthy silence fell as I waited for his answer. Finally he spoke.

"How are you going to do it?"

Relieved and pleased that he was still on board, I said, "I have no idea. This would be easier if you and he weren't such good buddies all of a sudden." 

"You could call this off too you know?" he said. 

"Maybe I will, but I think you just wanna get your stupid proposal shored up." 

He laughed. "I'm busted."

I slipped out of Hawk's arms and stood at the full length mirror on the back of his room door and applied some makeup and then popped in my contacts. In the mirror, I watched Hawk watching me. I knew that he had done this watching thing with Betty too. What else did he do with her? I wondered. 

I turned to look at Hawk and took note of the erection in his board shorts. Normally I'd be all over that, but tonight I flopped onto the bed under my painting to read a book. Hawk found a journal and lay on the opposite bed to read too. A little after eight, Matt arrived. His eyes went right to the painting. 

"Oh my god that's you! It's fantastic!"

"Thanks, I was the model, but the painting is based on someone else." I said turning my neck to look at the painting too. "I just delivered it. Not my usual subject matter. I did it for birthday boy." 

"Best painting she ever done," Hawk said sounding like he meant it. 

Matt nodded blankly with his eyes on my naked body. I smiled for that was the exact effect I was hoping for. 

Matt blinked himself back into the room. His eyes fell on me sprawled under the painting. He blushed, realizing he had been gawking at my nude a bit too long.

"Happy birthday. I spent every cent I had on you," Matt said and handed Hawk a square object crudely wrapped in brown paper. Hawk pulled it apart to discover a cold twelve pack of Moose Heads.

"Dude!" Hawk said and distributed beers to all, and then put the rest away in the tiny fridge under his desk. We toasted Hawk's birthday and my painting. 

"Is it titled?" Matt asked.

"Damaged But Likeable," I said.

"You said It's based on someone you know?" Matt asked.

"I didn't know her well at first," I said thinking of Shelly from the short story by Lostindavoid, "but I think I know her better now." Jade Tama's comment from her facebook page bobbed in my head, The chick is fucked up, but if you knew her like I do she's actually quite likeable. 

Matt noticed my appearance for the first time. Along with the makeup I wore a simple form-flattering top and my best fuck me jeans. The term fuck me jeans was coined by my friend Misty. The theory was that everybody owned a pair of jeans that makes them feel sexy and desirable. Whether you look sexy and desirable wasn't the point, feeling sexy and desirable was what counted. 

I gave Matt a blatant alluring look, or at least what I hoped was a blatant alluring look. His eyes widened then he quickly looked away and focused on unpacked his backpack. I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. 

For the next two hours, the guys hacked away at Hawk's proposal and every time Matt looked at me, I made sure I was looking back. He also gave my naked portrait some serious eye time too. 

"I'm hungry let's order pizza," I declared.

"I'm sick of pizza," Hawk said rubbing his eyes. "I'll go out and get sandwiches or burgers, anything but pizza." 

We settled on saimin from a local noodle shop and Hawk was drafted to pick up the food. 

"You okay?" Matt asked after Hawk left. He sat on the opposite bed from me. 

"Yeah, why?" I asked innocently.

"You've been looking at me funny all night long."

"Well you've been giving my naked painting the eye too," I said playfully. He blushed deeply and made a point of not looking at the painting. This is it I though, time for the official seduction. "Can I ask you something?" I said putting my book aside and sitting up. 

"Sure, what?" 

"Do you find me attractive?" Matt's eyes automatically shifted to the door, his mind clearly on Hawk. "Don't worry about Hawk," I said as I got up and sat next to him on the other bed. Unexpected panic clouded his thin bearded face. I frowned for I hadn't expected this particular reaction. "Are you attracted to me?" I persisted. 

He nodded. 

Feet first into the obsess, I thought as I leaned in and kissed him. The kiss was brief, hesitant on his part. I broke the kiss and looked into Matt's confused face and said, "Hawk and I have this thing we would like to try with you." His eyes went from confused to worried in a literal blink.

"I'm not interested in boys," he said. 

"What?" I asked totally confused. Then I got what he meant and said quickly, "It's nothing like that." 

This is not going like I though it would. Perhaps action would be better than words. With my heart doing triple time, I stood up and pulled my shirt over my head, quickly removed my fuck me jeans and stood before Matt in my carefully selected white silk panties and bra. The underwear was not a perfect match —yet again. Stupidly, it was the exact opposite paring of the set I wore with the Kokuras. 

"Holy shit!" Matt blurted out. His eyes went to the door, then back to me, then back to the door again like he was watching a tennis match. I waited for him to do something but he didn't; he just sat with his eyes bouncing from me to the door. Finally, his eyes settled on me but he still didn't speak or move. 

"Oh my god Matt! You've gotta stand up and kiss me or I'm going to die of embarrassment." 

"I can't do this to Hawk," he said quietly, his eyes locked on the space between my bra covered breasts.

"You're sweet but Hawk knows exactly what I'm doing so stand up and kiss me you fucking idiot." 

He stood up and took me in his arms and covered my mouth with a hot impatient kiss. Now that's the reaction I was hoping looking for I thought with a great deal of relief.

Still engaged in the kiss, I maneuvered us onto the bed under my nude portrait. My first instinct was to tear at his clothes, but I put the brakes on my rampaging hormones, disengaged from the kiss, and then stood up. With slightly shaky hands, I unhooked my bra. Matt sat like as a statue as I stood topless before him. I shifted closer with my chest almost touching his face. I gasped when he covered my left nipple with his mouth; the pleasant tickle of his tongue traced the aureola, he teased the tip with his teeth. I gasped again as I anticipated the coming bite. It seem to take him forever to do it, but it finally came causing every sensual sensor in my body to spike into the red.

"Holy shit!" I barked and pushed him away. One second longer I would have come right there and then. I'm not a guy so coming so easily wouldn't have been so tragic, it was the fact that a simple nipple nibble nearly put me over. My system was on over drive for sure. My eyes fell on Shelly. She seem to smile down at me from her two dimensional world.

To buy a few seconds to calm myself, I slipped my panties down slow, sweet and sexy then did a little dainty spin to give him the full tour. 

No longer on the absurd edge of premature orgasm, I stepped back into Matt's reach. He stood and we engaged in a full-bodied kiss; his hidden stiffness pressing against me. My eyes flew open and I made a sound of astonishment in the back of my throat and broke the kiss. Throwing subtly out the window, I dropped to my knees, worked open his shorts, pulled them down and stared at the straining bulge contained by dark blue briefs. 

"Wow, how long is it?" I asked shamelessly. 

"Over eight inches I guess, I'm not sure of the exact length," he said. 

I looked up at him to see if he was kidding. I've always assumed guys were obsessed with the size of their dicks the way chicks worried about breast size. I noticed that he was shirtless and wondered abstractly when he had taken it off. Returning my focus to his impressive bulge, I ran my hands over it. Nine plus I roughly estimated, and then I yanked his underwear down freeing him. I ran my fingers along the pale pink length to the slightly pinker circumcised head. He's bigger than Hawk. Wow!

I stood up and we kissed again. Then in a combination hug and tackle we dropped onto the bed under my painting with me on top. I broke the kiss and slid my way down his long body. I brushed my cheek against his stomach and took the tip of his long erection into my mouth. I worked my way halfway down the shaft and then backed up allowing him to fall from my mouth. I took the now slick shaft in one hand, pointed it to the ceiling and slid my hand up to the head than back down to the base.

"Jesus Gwen," Matt said in a hushed voice. 

I stopped stroking him, stood up and held out a hand and helped him to his feet. He moved in for a kiss, but I stopped him with a hand flat against his chest.

"I wanna make love to two men," I declared. My arousal spiked the moment I said the words and my heart started pounding. I found my phone in my backpack near the door and auto dialed Hawk. 

"It's happening." I said and then shut my phone before Hawk could say a thing. For a few seconds, I looked at myself in the mirror on the back of the door. Beyond my reflection, Matt stood looking at me intently.

"Like my ass?" I asked.

He nodded.

I callously dropped my phone on the top of my backpack, turned and stepped into Matt's arms. His hands seem to be everywhere at once. It didn't take him long to find the wetness between my legs and again, I found myself on the edge of an orgasm with barely a touch. In giddy panic, I dropped to my knees and immediately encountered his impressive erection. That thing defies gravity, I mused. I engulfed the end of it without using my hands. 

The turn of the lock at the door made both of us flinch. Matt pulled his erection from my mouth as the door swung open. The smell of saimin broth filled the little room and for just a couple of seconds, Hawk stood frozen in the opened door. 

"Close the door love," I said calmly, but worried that Hawk was having misgivings. 

Without a word, Hawk closed the door, walked passed Matt who look awkward in his naked, erect state. Hawk dropped the bags of food next to the computer on his desk. He stood looking at me kneeling before Matt, and then he started undressing. Washed with relief, I exhaled the breath I had been holding. 

Matt's erection lightly brushed against my parted lips. I rolled my eyes up to look into his young bearded face, his expression serious and focused. As I seized Matt with my right hand and took him into my mouth, Hawk's steely erection came into view on my left. 

Vibrating with keen excitement, I thought of how different this felt from my night with the Kokuras. Aside from the one girl-girl kiss, that night been a one on one with Kira. But Now, for the first time in my life, I had more than one erection to deal with. 

Just like Shelly in the story only less fucked up ... I hope.

I pulled Matt from my mouth, seized Hawk's erection with my left hand and engulfed him. A few seconds later, I returned to Matt and he flinched and gasped as I worked him aggressively. 

"Whoa, watch it ... I'm really close," Matt said with urgency. 

I freed him from my mouth but kept at him with both my hands. "Don't hold back let it happen," I said to Matt as I watched my hands slide along his long wet shaft. I looked up at Hawk. "In my mouth?" 

"Breasts. I wanna see," Hawk said

"You always like see," I said thickening my local accent. I took the head of Matt's penis with my mouth to get it nice and wet and then worked him with my hands some more. 

Matt gasped and a sudden explosion of liquid shot up high and sprayed on my right forearm. With a quick adjustment, I pointed the spewing organ at my chest. The next four violent emissions splattered and stripped my b-cups. I barked a laugh at the copious onslaught. I looked up at Hawk, his eyes transfixed at the mess on my chest. "Happy birthday," I said with a laugh then I stood up and got a hand towel from Hawk's closet.

Facing the mirror on the back of the door, I wiped my hands, arm and chest clean. In the mirror I saw Hawk and Matt intently focused on my backside. I loved the feel of their eyes on me. Still holding the towel, I turned from the mirror and dropped to my knees before Matt and gently cleaned his semi-erect organ. His fading penis reversed direction at my touch and he was hard as steel again moments later.

Hurray for twenty I mused. 

"Do me," I said to Hawk. 

I stood up, went to the bed under my painting and lowered myself onto it. Hawk got on top of me and gripped his hardon. I gasped as his entered me with one smooth tender thrust. 

"You'll come in three," he said confident at his prediction. 

I didn't argue and quietly counted his slow sweet plunges. And as he predicted, I came on number three with my legs wrapped around his waist in a vice. When my breathing leveled, I slapped his butt hard. 

"You asshole," I scolded.

"What?" Hawk protested, "It's not my fault that you pop easy on the first one."

"You don't have to call the count; it's offensive and so is the word pop," I said trying to sound offended, but my body bypassed my brain urging me to roll my hips—and I did. Hawk took the cue and moved along with me. 

My eyes flickered to Matt seated on the opposite bed. A vintage poster of the legendary surfer Duke Kahanamoku hovered over him. Pointlessly, I remembered finding the poster in my parent's garage a month ago. On the back of the poster was a street address that neither one of my parents knew. They even argued as to which one of them owned the poster. 

"Oh shit!" I barked in the middle of that superfluous thought and orgasm number two swept through me. I curled my legs around him to hold him in as deep as I could. 

"You close?" I asked breathlessly. " He nodded and picked up the pace. Flushed with sexual heat, I said to Hawk, "Wanna come on my chest too?" He nodded again.

Seconds later he pulled out of me, straddled my waist and gripped his shiny wet erection. I sat up a bit just in time to see a ribbon of white jet out from the end of his penis landing high on my right collarbone splashing onto my neck and under my chin. 

Matt was suddenly kneeling at the bed side watching wide eyed as Hawk painted my chest with seven more sticky strands of white. When he was, done, I gently coxed Hawk off me. 

"You saving it up or what?" I asked looking down at the streaks of white on my breasts. "I could use a hot washcloth." 

Hawk slipped a towel around his waist, grabbed a couple of washcloths and left the room. I stayed in my semi reclined position not moving trying to contain the mess. Matt sat naked, fully erect on the opposite bed, his eyes locked with mine. 

What do people say to each other after something like this? I couldn't help but wonder. The stupid part of my brain answered 'thank you, please come again.' I quickly covered my mouth to suppress the coming laugh but failed and I dropped onto my back laughing. I looked at Matt and he looked back bewildered. At that moment, Hawk returned with the soaked hand towels. 

"What's so funny?" he asked as he handed me a hot cloth. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 04



"Too stupid to relate," I said cleaning myself. 

Matt reached for his clothes and started to dress. 

"No, not yet," I said remembering how pleasant it was to lounge about naked with the Kokuras. I smiled to see that Matt's erection was still holding. He sat across from me on the opposite bed and dropped his hands in his lap to cover up his condition. I tugged at Hawk's towel and he made it go away.

Hawk laughed at him as he sat next to me, his cock twitching and thickening. 

"She has that effect on me too. And dude, you can't possible be shy about her seeing your wood at this juncture."

Matt shrugged but continued to cover his condition anyway. 

"Would you like to make this a regular thing?" I asked. 

Hawk gave me a quick sidewards glance for I hadn't discussed this with him. 

Matt sat quietly for an eternity it seemed. Finally he said in a soft hesitant voice, "Um ... yeah." 

I squealed like an idiot, got up and planted a kiss on Matt's surprised face. The kiss charged me up again and I pulled his hands free from his lap to spy his fresh erection. I looked at Hawk and was please as punch to see him stroking a solid fresh one of his own. 

A dark joyful laughter seized me as I pulled Matt to his feet. Hawk got up too and two pairs of hands explored my naked body. A ravenous need to kiss Hawk seized me so I greedily fed my hunger. Ending the kiss, I turned and gave the same to Matt who pushed in close crushing his erection against my hip. Hawk slipped behind me and rubbed his erection against my ass as he pecked kisses on my left shoulder and neck. Matt dropped to his knees and kissed my breasts. 

I pulled free of my two lovers and spun looking for my backpack. I saw it near the desk, dropped to my knees on the floor and searched madly through it but couldn't put my hands on the item I needed. When I was just about to dump out the contents on the bed, my hand found the desperate item, a string of condoms. I tore one free, ripped the little packet open with my teeth, and dropped to my knees before Matt and hurriedly applied the thing to his huge erection. 

"Sit with your back to the wall," I ordered Hawk as I as I dropped a pillow on the floor at the edge of the bed. To Matt I said, "Fuck me from behind." I nestled between Hawk's spread legs and covered his erection with my mouth. Matt dropped behind me and guided himself inside me in one smooth rough thrust. Immediately, I lost all interest in giving head. 

"Do me hard and fast," I begged bracing my arms on either side of Hawk's slightly spread thighs. With my eyes transfixed on Hawk's steely erection, I came. Seconds later so did Matt. 

Not close to done, I pulled away from Matt, flopped on my back on the bed and beckoned to Hawk. He crawled on top of me, gripped his hardon and entered me. An animal growl from deep down in my chest escaped me; Hawk took it as a sign to pick up the tempo. A couple of delirious minutes later, on a hard thrust, I gripped Hawk's ass to hold him in deep. 

"OH SHIT!" I blurted out as I came. With my chest heaving form rapid breathing, I looked into Hawk's handsome, sweaty face as he resumed thrusting in a flurry of fast short stabs, he pulled out of me and with an animal's grunt, shoot his seed across my abdomen in three long ropes.

**********

My eyes flickered open as a loud noise woke me. I was sure that the sound came from the room next to Hawk's, but I wasn't sure if I had dreamed it or not. The red letters on Hawk's digital clock on his computer desk showed 1:23. I untangle myself from Hawk, got out of the tiny single bed and sat naked in the office chair. Moon light from the window splashed across Matt's long, thin body occupying the other bed. He rested on his stomach naked with his head turned out. With a kick of my foot, I wheeled myself over to him and ran a hand along his back. He moaned, grunted and rolled over to reveal a full erection splayed across his midsection. I spun the chair to face sleeping Hawk curled on his side; his longish blond hair obscuring his handsome face. He too was fully erect. 

If erections were currency I'd be a rich woman, I thought with a smile. 

I closed my eyes and gave silent thanks to the forest goddess on Maui, crediting her for my penis windfall. The weak moonlight from the window slashed across my nude painting on the wall above Matt. 

"Thanks to you too," I said aloud. Shelly was the one that had set the mood for the night. 

I spun in a slow lazy circles in the office chair. I played with the idea of getting both of my men off in their sleep. 

"I'm right here," Hawk said sleepily. 

"Where else would you be stupid head?" I said and wheeled closer.

"I'm near the clearing," he said.

I realized he was talking in his sleep. The first time he did it sort of freaked me out, but now I was used to it. Amused, I rolled closer and stroked his twitching hard-on. 

"What clearing?" I asked. 

"Near Clara." he said. "The other Gwen is coming." 

I frowned as I cupped his balls. The other Gwen? And whose Clara? "What kind dream you having haole boy?" I asked as I messaged his dick and balls.

"Betty, It's the other Gwen, be careful," he said. 

At the mention of Betty's name, I stopped fondling him and sat back.

"Hey," came a soft voice from near the dorm room door. 

I squelched a scream and my head snapped in the direction of the door. 

"Betty?" I said. sure it was her, I rushed to the door to open it, but as I turned the knob I froze. Reflected in the mirror on the back of the door was the short hair version of me sitting naked on the edge of the bed looking down at Matt's sleeping form. She reached for Matt's erection and stoke it tenderly. She looked at me. 

"Your lucky, I really miss him," she said. 

I snapped around with a racing heart to face her but she wasn't there. I turned back toward the mirror and clamped both my hands over my mouth to suppress a scream for the short hair me was looking out at me from inside the mirror inches away from my face. Then I felt stupid for it was just my own reflection. 

Hawk moaned and shifted but didn't wake. In the weak light I saw Matt shift onto his side. I went to Matt and curled up with him in the cramp little bed suddenly feeling very protective of him.

Chapter 26 Hawaiian Heat and the Golden Tongue

"I show you how I feel and that should be plenty," Hawk said. 

Livid at his stock non answer, I rolled away from him. It didn't help my mood that the temperature was in the high eighties and the dorm towers had no air-conditioning. An ancient monster of a fan that Hawk borrowed from the anthropology department spun at the foot of the two dorm beds pushed together to make one almost queen sized bed. Because of the heat, Hawk and I were stripped down to our underwear. Being near naked usually led to nonacademic activities, but on this rare occasion, the heat trumped our libidos.

"Just this once tell me in words how you feel about me," I said, hating the whinny sound in my voice.

"Gwen, you know I hate it when you corner me like this," Hawk said hackles up.

"And I hate that I have to corner you to find out how you feel," I said just as hackled. 

"This conversation is over until you calm down," he snapped.

"This relationship is fucking over until you talk to me," I snapped back. 

I rolled on my stomach and pretended to read my impossibly boring art history text. "How can they make something as exciting as art so fucking boring," I groused as I willed the fan to waffle my way. 

Ever since Matt had stepped into the picture three months ago, this argument between Hawk and I had become more frequent. As I quietly steamed, I questioned my need for Hawk to say that he loved me. I knew that he did, but why he never voiced it dumfounded me—and pissed me off to no end. The fan finally turned my was tempering my anger a bit. Maybe this is a control thing on my part and I should stop pushing I thought. The moment the fan turned away though, the anger flooded back in. Fuck it ... I want him to say it, I need it. Matt would say it in a heartbeat. 

In psychic synchronicity, Matt burst into the room startling Hawk and I. 

"It's over. I can't do this anymore," Matt said. 

"Good, It's too fucking hot to fuck," I said trying to read a boring history of Stone Henge.

Ignoring my comment (and my obvious ugly mood) Matt plowed forward. 

"I'm serious. I'm having issues. I can't do this ... whatever this is ... the three of us are ...you know ... doing." 

"Are you lolo?" I barked. Hawk smiled at my outburst; if he had laughed, I think I would have clocked him. Determined to make his point Matt foolishly kept at it. 

"I need to clear my head on this and—" 

"Shut up!" I said rudely cutting him off. Since he was so willing to make himself a target, I was happy to focus my anger on him. "What's the issue?" 

"Um—" was all he managed as I cut him off again.

"You're in love with me and guess what? I love you too. Deal with it." 

I had sensed this coming from Matt for sometime. It was hard for him not to express his feelings making him the polar opposite of Hawk. But poor Matt simply didn't know where he stood in our impromptu three-way relationship. I on the other hand, knew exactly were I stood prompting me to thrust a finger in Hawk's face. 

"I haven't forgotten about you."

Hawk hid his face behind his book titled Resilient Hominids. He listed to one side, and then conspicuously rolled off the edge of the bed, onto the floor, and like an insect frightened by sudden light, scurried under the bed. 

"Really?" I shouted. "This is fucking it!" I got off the bed and shoved a finger in Matt's surprised, bearded face. "You need to lighten up!" Then I dropped back onto the bed, hard. 

"Ouch," Hawk said from down under.

"And you, cockroach under the fucking bed, need to get serious!" I bounced on my butt for emphasis getting another satisfying bark of pain from the cockroach. I moaned and pulled at my hair in frustration. "How can I have a serious discussion when one of the participants is hiding under the bed?" 

I looked at Matt ready to fend any further attempts at breaking up with me—and Hawk. He just stood there looking at me with a brainless glaze. 

"Earth to Matthew?" I said. Then I remembered that I was near naked. 

Hawk's voice drifted up from under the bed. "Dude? Next time you feel like breaking up with us, could you e-mail ahead?" 

I had to laugh at the stupid comment. I bounced my butt one more time, got my desired bark of pain, and then removed my bra. Matt mirrored my action by removing his t-shirt.

"I though it was too hot to fuck?" Matt asked. 

"To fuck, yes but oral sex should be less strenuous especially if you're doing all the work. All I have to do is lie here." 

I took my panties off and dropped it over the side of the bed to get Hawk's attention. It worked and he peeped over the edge of the bed. 

"It's safe to come up Kilroy," I said trying to sound stern but failed when I giggled. Matt stripped off his cargo shorts and underwear. I brazenly spread my legs just as the fan oscillated in my direction. "That feels heavenly!" I said. "Forget the head just park the fan between my legs." 

Matt laughed then literally dove between my legs making me bounce and squeal. Hawk slipped back on the bed and lay on his side, his erection straining in his boxer briefs. Matt lowered his head between my thighs. I giggled; his beard tickled, and then I hissed with pleasure as unexpected sensations rippled through me. And it wouldn't quit, whatever Matt was doing down there was ... was ... awesome! His tongue flicker up and down my clitoris then he completely covered it with his mouth creating a pressure that sent jolts to all corners of my body. 

"Ohmygod!" I barked involuntarily. 

"Dude! You made her eyes go totally white!" Hawk said.

"Leave him the fuck alone!" I snapped not wanting Matt to lose his focus. "Oh my! Fuck! God!" I gasped as indescribable pressure kept building to the point that it overwhelmed me almost to the point of pain. I grip handfuls of Matt's hair trying to decide if I should hold him in place or pull him away. Then all decision became moot as my orgasm swept over me reducing me to to shallow rasping breaths. When I was able to take a deep full breath I said, "Oh-my-God Matt! Is this how you always give head?" 

He lifted his head from down below to answer.

I pushed his face back between my legs. "Do it again," I dared and begged. 

Matt went right to work with no fence painting. Fence painting is my personal term for unnecessary licking of pointless parts of my lower anatomy. Alarmingly quick, my second orgasm pealed through me like a Jaguar on Hawaii Interstate one doing a hundred and ten. Before my body could fully settle, Matt put on the pressure again. I tried to figure out what exactly he was doing down there, but all I could tell was that he used his teeth, tongue, lips and lot of suction but in no discernible order. Orgasm number three arrived and unexpected tears of raw joy flooded my eyes.

"Dude," Hawk said with awe as he dabbed at one of my tears with a finger. "What did you do to her man?" 

Matt raised his head up from between my legs, sat up and wiped at his mouth, beard and mustache. "Gave her head," he said simply. 

"Uh uh," I said with a violent shake of my head. "I don't know what you did down there, but you can't call it head or cunnilingus or anything ordinary like that." 

I pulled him down on top of me for a long serious kiss, liking the musky salty taste of me on him. Before this moment, I avoided kissing a lover after he had gone down on me finding it kind of icky. But now, I would lick Matt's asshole clean if he asked me to. 

"Mary Ann in Ohio must have been crazy to let you go," I said after the kiss. 

"Mary Jane," Matt corrected. "It was the last thing we did together." He rolled off to one side just as the soothing loud fan came our way. Matt and I sighed in unison as the moving air hit our sweaty skin.

I lay on my back blinking up at the ceiling. Flanked by my lovers, my foul mood now a distant memory, I said, "Marry whatever broke up with you right after you gave her head like that? Proves the chick was lolo." 

"No," Matt corrected again, "I gave her head on the night before my flight. That was months after we broke up." 

"Did you look her up for a goodbye fuck?" Hawk asked propped up on his elbows on the other side of me to look at Matt. 

"Only a guy could form that question," I said poking Hawk in the ribs. 

"No, actually she found me," Matt said. 

"Righteous, dude," Hawk said with a nod and a thumb's up. "She came back for one last lick." 

"Burn Mary Jane!" I said with my hands behind my head and a smile on my face. "Matt's golden tongue of awesomeness is all mine!" I rolled onto Matt's long body and covered his mouth with a quick sloppy wet kiss gratuitously stroking his tongue with mine. I sat up, straddling his hips and smiled down at him. "That poor stupid girl is never getting near your golden tongue ever again." I delicately traced Matt's magical mouth with a finger and then lowered myself for another kiss. 

The kiss ended and I put a finger under Hawk's underwear and snapped the elastic. He took the hint and stripped his undies off. I rolled off Matt, made them get a little closer then firmly placed a knee between each of their legs. With a smile, I filled each of my hands with an erection. They watched me intently as I stroked both my cocks. Their gaze excited me. Why does that turn me on so much? I wondered. It was like I get some kind of energy from their gazes.

I lowered my head and engulfed as much of Matt's erection as I could. Sitting back up again, I went back to slowly stroking both cocks. Fresh hot desire flushed through me as if the three orgasms I had minutes ago never happened. Power of the gaze baby, I thought. 

I let go of the two splendid erections and lay on my back with my head near their feet. Without being told, Matt got on top of me and guided his big erection inside of me. He wasted no time getting up to speed. 

Although I was hot to go, orgasm number four was slow in coming and just as I started to shiver at its arrival, Matt stopped his thrusting and held still deep inside me; he tightened all over, his breathing quickened, and he came too. Droplets of sweat from his hair and beard showered onto my face and breasts. He dropped down and we engaged in a hot, wet, sweaty, messy kiss. Because of the heat, I pushed him off of me. The fan came my way and it felt wonderful. Matt got up to fetch a clean fresh towel and delicately wiped my lower half and then dabbed at the sweat on my face and body.

I looked over at Hawk lying on his side slowly stroking his erection."Sorry lover but this time I mean it," I said lazily, "It's just too hot to fuck." 

Hawk got on his knees on the bed, he arranged me on my side with my hair fanned around me head. He took his erect penis in his right hand and started to stroke. 

"If you came on my face, I swear, I will kick your okole from hear to Maui," I warned him. 

In that instant Hawk ejaculate five long ropes of jizz onto my dark brown hair. I wasn't sure if he had altered his aim because of my warning or that coming on my hair was his original intent. 

"Yuck! Hawk! You kinky sick fuck!" I said with a bemused laugh.

Chapter 27 Art Erotica 

I wanted to get something special for Matt's twenty first birthday but had no clue on what to get him. It was Hawk who came up with the idea of going to the used bookstore near campus. 

"In all my years living in Honolulu I've never been in this place," I said getting out of Hawk's Bronco in the tiny parking lot. 

"You don't like books?" Hawk asked as we approached the store front. 

Hawk swung the door open and a woman in a shawl tried to push past coming out of the store. She practically shouldered me out of the way. 

"Some rude!" I said, and then thought, who wears a shawl in the islands anyhow? "It's not that," I said giving the parting rude woman the stink eye. "This place looks kind of grungy and dirty is all."

"It's a used book store. That's part of the charm," Hawk said. 

The place lived up to its charm with unorganized stacks of books and magazines occupying every available space at the front of the store. An employee, or perhaps the owner, sorted through stacks of DVD movies. Apparently the place also sold used movies and the particular stack the guy sorted through happen to be pornos. A title at the top of a stack jumped out at me.

"Hey it's Best of Butt-Slammers Seven. Didn't you own that one?" I asked Hawk.

Hawk gave me a dry look and said, "Don't be an ass."

"You the butt," I punned back.

"Where falling behind time. Go look for Matt's gift."

"I'll go look in the rear of the store."

"Wonder if the place has a backdoor?"

"This place is a hole," I said ending our stupid pun war and walking deeper into the grungy store. Unlike the front of the store though, the shelves proved surprisingly organized. I had a pleasant time searching through the literature section but found nothing I wanted to get for Matt. On impulse, I wandered to the art section and had even more fun going through the used art books. From the highest shelf, I muscled down a monster oversized book on Van Gogh and spent several minutes leafing through the color plates. Amazingly, I came upon a reproduction of Japanese Woman at the Café Terrace. Amazing, because the painting so rarely appeared in books. On the inside cover of the book was a personal sticker proclaiming it the property of Charlene Manson. I went to the copyright page and saw the book was printed in 1972. 

Hawk came up behind me and I showed him Japanese Woman at the Café Terrace. A smile touched the corners of his mouth. No doubt he was thinking of Emiko Kokura. That was okay since I was thinking of Kira myself. I closed the book and asked, "Find something for Matt?" 




Naked Portraits Pt. 04



"A book on the history of the Cleveland Indians," He said. I made a face not particularly enthusiastic about a sports book. "You find anything?" he asked back.

"Nothing," I said as I tried to put the Van Gogh book back on the upper shelf but it resisted sliding back into place and threatened to topple on me. Hawk came to my aid but he too couldn't push it back into place either.

"There's a smaller book jammed back there I think," Hawk said. He handed Van Gogh back to me, felt for the smaller book and pulled it out. The book was old and frayed with a black cover made of real leather. I read the faded title in silver letters on the weathered spine aloud. "The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe." I smiled, Poe was one of Matt's favorite writers. 

"Looks like Matt's gift has found us," Hawk said smiling too.

"Quote the Raven ... you can say that again." I opened the book to the first page. 

"Look at that," Hawk said in wonder. 

On the inside cover of the book was an intricate drawing of a raven done in black ballpoint pen. Written below the drawing in block letters was an odd single sentence:

'She is the night.'

"The title page is torn out," I said as I ran a finger along the jagged edge of the missing page. I leafed through the thin book to the end but found no more drawings. "This is perfect," I said. 

On impulse, Hawk bought me the Van Gogh book too.

*********

On top of working as a TA in the drawing class, I earned work study money as an art installer for the campus gallery. The gallery was heating up for the up coming undergraduate show, physically, the biggest and toughest show of the year to hang. I corralled Matt into the project as a volunteer by shamelessly lying about how much fun it would be. Despite my ball ass lies, Matt ended up having fun, probably because the work was new to him.

The gallery space was brilliantly designed with portable walls that can be arranged in any fashion. The arrangement of the walls alone took a week to do. Then came the volume of work: paintings, drawings, prints, photographs, sculptures, ceramics pots, and even a few audio-visual installations. The technique for setting the show up was simple, get an army of people to pin, nail, tack, tape and in some cases, glue art to the walls.

A certain amount of art went into displaying art. Ideally, every team of hangers had at lease one person with some sense of composition and design. Adrian Akai, the gallery director had final vito power if he didn't like how a wall looked. I was teamed up with Paul Gleason and since he had no artistic sense to speak of, I was in charge. 

As Paul's muscle a bronze sculpture onto a one-foot tall white pedestal, I speculated on his total lack of artistic talent and wondered what drugs the grad selection comity was on when they selected him. With a manly grunt, Paul hefted the bronze sculpture onto the pedestal. At least he has a strong back.

"This thing is near a hundred pounds and fuckin' dangerous," he complained. The piece was a reasonable copy of a Degas bronze ballerina. The dangerous part was the tutu made of razor wire. 

I laughed and said, "I saw a painting that would make a good background for spiky here." I wandered off to look for the painting in mind and passed by Matt and his group of hangers consisting of Adrian Akai the gallery coordinator and Sally Higgins from sculpture. Matt said something to Sally that made her laugh, and as she laughed, she casually push at her long blonde hair. My mood darkened, the girl was overtly flirting with him. Sally had a classic curvy buxom figure and a perfect oval face with high Germanic cheekbones. My right hand itched to slap the haole bitch, but because of my ingrained nature to not make a public skeptical of myself, I chose inaction. Besides, Sally was a sculpture chick and could take out a skinny painter like me without breaking a sweat. 

I located the painting I was looking for, and then went out of my way I pass in front of Matt and Sally. I caught Matt's eye and he beamed me a smile, but I didn't return it gaving him a cold stare, cruelly causing his smile to turn into a frown.

Paul had muscled spiky ballerina into place to the left side of a long wall. Then he and I hung the painting behind her. 

"That's a lot of squares," I said as Paul dragged the ladder aside. 

The painting behind our razor wire ballerina was six feet wide and four feet tall consisting of a grid of two-inch squares, thirty-six one way and twenty four the other adding up to 864 squares total. 

"I saw the chick working on this off and on," Paul said. "She painted each square like it was the Sistine Chapel or somethin'." 

Close up I could see the complex under painting of each square creating an overall shimmering effect fading from red on the left to blue on the right. I found the effect strangely soothing.

"In art history class we studied Mondrian and his movement of painters," I told Paul. "Those guys painted nothing but grids of colored squares. The instructor said it was a response to the chaos caused by world war one. The grid represented reestablishing order after the madness of that horrendous war."

Quietly, Paul and I stared at the painting for a long minute. Paul spoke first.

"The chick's name was blue in Chinese, she insisted we called her Blue in English. She had a strange accent, said she was from Laos." 

Neither of us talked for another whole minute as all the horror stories of the Khmer Rouge filtered through our minds. For the next hour Blue's painting stuck with me as we worked. 

A half-hour before lunch I encouraged Paul to work with Sally for a while so that I could have some time with Matt.

"You sweet on the guy?" Paul asked. 

"Maybe?" I said.

Paul gave me a look, and then shrugged in that way only a person from New York could that said, 'ain't none of my business' and went off to work with Sally. 

Sally gave me a desperate look and I mouthed, your turn.

"You mad at me about something?" Matt asked as we worked on pinning up a stack of nudes from the life drawing classes to a long stretch of blank wall. 

"No," I said automatically then a beat later added, "Sally's nice isn't she." 

"She's okay if you like voluptuous tallish blondes," he said obviously mocking my jealousy. 

His little ploy worked and I laughed. I elbowed him in the ribs, but not so hard. Lucky for him my jealousy was tempered by Blue's ominous field of squares. 

"She's gorgeous," Matt said. 

I frowned, although I had forgiven him for flirting with Sally, I thought it unwise of him to keep harping on the girl's apparent good looks. But before I could open my mouth with a retort, Matt handed me a detailed pencil sketch of a beautiful light haired female. 

"Oh, that's Dorothy. She is gorgeous," I agreed. "The chick's the most popular nude model with the heterosexual males and the lesbians. It's more than her sexy body too. There's a kind of sadness, a melancholy about her that people are drawn to." I went to the big stack of figure drawings on the floor, sifted through them. I smiled when I saw the one I was looking for. It was a large charcoal of Dorothy. I had been there at its creation on one of the days I had sat in a figure drawing class. I held it up for Matt to see. "This artist caught that better see?" 

In the charcoal, Dorothy sat on a bent back chair naked with her body in profile, her head turned looking straight out. I could almost hear a crackling in the air from the sexual tension created by Dorothy's drawing. Matt casually bumped against me. I put a gratuitous swing in my hips as I stepped forward and pinned the charcoal a bare white wall. Other nudes followed but the charcoal of Dorthy was the center of our arrangement. 

Lunch was called, but Matt and I chose to stay to finish our wall. Driven by sexual heat, we frittered around the gallery in search of three-dimensional art to compliment our nook of nude drawings. I found a shallow relief carving in dark waxed wood of a delicate nude female. Matt dragged over a bronze of a well-endowed satyr with a blackish brown patina. 

"Fully erect that, dude would be twelve inches easy, " I commented, as Matt hefted the satyr onto a circular white pedestal. 

Alone in the gallery space with no one to see us, we touched, bumped and brushed against each other with unguarded frequency. I couldn't explain why, but I enjoyed the clandestine nature of the relationship with Matt. 

"You can kiss me now," I informed him.

"Finally!" he said dramatically throwing his arms over his head. He pulled me into his arms, and covered my mouth suppressing a burst of laughter on my part. Like a double shot of tequila, his kiss flowed through me heating me up. 

"Do me right here," I demanded. 

Matt looked around at the large windows surrounding the gallery on all sides. 

"It would be like making love in a fish bowl," he said concerned. 

"The glass is smoky, Even with the lights on it's hard to see inside especially in the daytime. And it's Saturday, hardly anyone is about."

I led him by the hand to the front counter and flipped open a panel near the door and loudly clacked off all of the work lights plunging the large space into a dull, warm, orange-gray gloom. 

"That should make us absolutely invisible," I said with confidence. 

After making sure that the front doors were locked, I fumbled under the front counter and pulled out a rolled up blue workout mat and tucked it under my arm.

"What's that?" Matt asked as he followed me back to the center of the darkened gallery. 

"It a yoga mat," I said. "We artists like to fuck in the gallery all the time. It comes in very handy." 

"Really?" Matt asked. 

I laughed, surprised that he believed me. 

"No stupid head. Sometimes we have to handle large delicate works of art that require a little bit of padding."

At the foot of the large charcoal of Dorothy, in a pool of defused light from the windows, I spread out the yoga mat. After the briefest of pauses, we frantically started undressing, laughing as we did. When fully naked, we dropped to our knees on the yoga mat and kissed. Flushed with excitement and the need for speed, I ended the kiss, dropped on my back on the mat and on the way down, I grabbed a hold of Matt's convenient handle, namely his erection and pulled him down on top of me. Expediently, he entered me in one slow delicious thrust. 

"How much time do we have?" he asked as he stated to move inside of me. 

"We usually ... break for an hour ... and since most the crew are artists ... that translates into one and a half."

"That's more then enough time since you pop so easy," Matt said thinking he was being clever. 

"Don't ... use the word ... pop ... it's offensive," I managed to say. Seconds later an orgasm swept through me. "Oh shit!" I hissed out through clenched teeth. 

Matt smiled down at me. 

"Shut up! You smug bastard," I said in a breathy whisper that echoed in the vast gallery space. 

Still quivering from my orgasm, I coxed him out of me, got on all fours, and had him enter me from behind. Knowing that we were pressed for time, he gripped my slim hips and moved in and out of me fast, hard and slick. I suddenly reached behind me and seized his balls in one hand and said, "Don't move! Stay right there!" Seconds later, gasping out breaths shallow and quick, I came. When my orgasm passed, I released my grip on his balls gently patted them. "Too rough?" I asked.

"I'll let you know when my testosterone levels are normal again." 

I gasped out a laugh. He pulled out of me and flopped onto my back on the blue padded rug. "Times three," I said.

He entered me again. His eyes dropped to my heaving chest as he quickly worked up to speed again. I closed my eyes as the sweet familiar tension between my legs built. Then the unmistakable sound of the gallery's back door opening echoed through the space. Matt froze with his erection deep inside me.

Chapter 28 Watch me 

"Fuck I'm coming!" I said in a panicked whisper. 

In his own panic, Matt covered my mouth to suppress my vocalizations. After three seconds of enforced quiet bliss, I pushed him off me. 

Fortunately, the area we were in was shielded from the back entrance by one of the many portable walls. We scrambled to our feet, grabbed our clothes and the yoga mat and slipped nearer the front entrance were we dressed hurriedly. Paul Gleason's unmistakable New York accent filled the place. 

"Yo! Who turned off the fuckin' lights?"

"I got it," I said and clacked on all the florescent work lights at the breaker panel. Fully dressed, I looked at Matt and covered my mouth to suppress a laugh as his conspicuous erection filling his shorts. "You should fix that," I said and laughed some more as he pointlessly pushed at his nine inches trying several different positions with no effect. "Stay here 'till your presentable." I advised, and then went towards the back door.

"You worked through lunch?" Paul asked meeting me next to the painting by Blue. 

"Uh yeah," I said, "Matt and I put up all the nudes come see." 

"Hey lookin' good," Paul said of the wall of nudes and accompanying statuary. It never occur to him to ask why the lights were out. A minute later, Matt joined us. I noted that he still had a semi going in his shorts pushed off to one side. 

"What's that?" Paul asked. He walked up to the well hung bronze satyr and hanging off an extended back hoof was my bra. He bent and plucked it off the satyr's hoof. 

"Must have fallen off an art piece," I said lamely and made to take it from him.

Paul swung the bra out of my reach. "I'll check around to see what art piece is missing a bra," he said. He held it up for close inspection. "Looks like an A-cup," he said as he walked away.

"A-cup indeed," I grumbled under my breath.

The rest of the crew filtered in and my bra become the subject of a fruitless hunt. Eventually, we all returned to the task of hanging art. Matt and Paul teamed up. Sadly, Matt showed more skill at hanging art than Paul the declared art major. Dinner rolled around; Matt and Paul were drafted to go and pick up Chinese take out for the crew. Before dinner arrived, Hawk called me on my cell. 

"What's up painter girl?"

I told him about my lunch love secession with Matt.

"Right there? Surrounded by nude art?" Hawk asked. 

There was a pause and I wondered for the millionth time what was going through his head. I wanted to ask if he was jealous of Matt, but mostly I wanted to ask how he felt about me. I closed my eyes and covered them with my free hand. I knew I was obsessing and if I didn't get it under control I would lose Hawk, maybe even Matt too. 

"I can't wait to see the show and those Dorothy drawings," Hawk finally said.

"I'll give you a midnight tour," I promised.

"Great, see ya."

"Yeah, see ya," I returned and he hung up. "I love you," I said two beats later, and then shut my phone. 

My eyes fell on the painting of colored squares. I stepped closer to inspect the paint application, still amazed that each of the two-inch squares was a mini independent abstract. The edges of each square were sharp and clean. I traced the fringe of a single vibrant blue square, darker patches hinted at other colors just beneath. 864 individual squares painted with loving obsession. 

Wow. 

The title tags weren't printed yet but each piece had a temporary, hand written, identifying tag taped to it and I read it aloud, "Kippler's defeat at Denver." What a weird title. 

After dinner, the work continued late into the night, everything had to be finished because the show opened with the gallery doors on Monday two days from now. All of Sunday was put aside for what we called the paper chase, when the near thousand title tags had to be matched and displayed to each piece of art. 

Adrian Akai, the gallery coordinator, Matt and Paul were the light focusing crew. Paul stood in the basket of a cherry picker ladder on wheels; Matt pushed the ladder about as Adrian instructed to where the lights should be pointed. At nearly the stroke of midnight, the last light was focused on a piece of art. Paul, Matt and I volunteered for final clean up allowing Adrian and the rest of the crew to go home and rest up for the paper chase come Sunday morning. 

It took most of an hour to move the cherry picker back into storage, round up all the remaining tools, and then sweep up. At 1: 30 AM we were done. Paul and I were alone in gallery storage tucking away the brooms and dust mops. For no reason, a spike of sexual adrenaline rippled through me and I gave Paul a critical sidewards glance. He wasn't anywhere near handsome but had a goofy boyishness that worked for him. His hair was too short for my taste and the early signs of balding threatened his hairline. His body was thin yet strangely muscular, the word wiry fit him well. I knew he had a thing for me, because he had confessed it to Matt over a couple of beers at the Manoa Gardens, and Matt of course me told all.

"Follow me," I told Paul as we exited gallery storage. Instead of going back into the main gallery via the back entrance, I led Paul around outside to a bench near the art administration office and the Gallery's front entrance. With the total darkness outside and the lights on inside the gallery, we watched Matt moving around pushing a dust mop for one final cleaning. "When you leave tonight, I want you to sit here and look into the gallery," I instructed Paul. 

"Will it take long? I got a date." he asked with a frown. 

"You'll see," I said, "Wait? You got a date at two in the morning?"

"She a grad in the psych department works late studying sleeping students volunteers," he said. "She's a part time exotic dancer, too. Her name is Trixie." He wore a big grin, apparently Trixie the psych grad slash exotic dancer was a big score. "Oh by the way," he said and pulled my bra out of the pouch of his cloth work apron, "I think this is yours."

"I'm a b-cup, asshole," I said claiming my property.

"Why you want me to sit here?" he asked.

"Do it and you'll see," I said. 

We walked back to the rear entrance of the gallery.

A few minutes later, Paul said his adieu. On his way out I gave him a look, and then I went to the light panel and turned off the florescent work lights. All that remained were the spots and floods on the art. 

It always impressed me how Adrian managed to turn this clamor of half-baked works of art into a cohesive ensemble. The pools of warm light transformed the place and Matt and took a leisurely walk inside the very heart and soul of the art department. Everywhere we turned we saw art work smoldering with raw emotion. Some gave off smoke, a few, like the colored squares painted by a chick named Blue, burst into artistic flames. 

Eventually, we found ourselves standing in front of the charcoal of sad, beautiful, naked Dorothy. I turned my head briefly at the tinted window glass. I couldn't see out through its obsidian depths and wondered if Paul was out there. I must be crazy for doing this, I thought. 

With my eyes on Dorothy again I said, "You know, my view of the nude has changed since I've been with you and Hawk?" 

"It has?" Matt asked as he held me from behind pressing his erection against my ass. 

I smiled and continued. "Yeah, like every other western trained artist on the planet, I saw the nude in the classic aesthetic mode. You know ... the beauty of line, shape, form and all that? But what I see now is sex. Take my shirt off." 

"Someone may see?" Matt whispered.

"Can't see in," I lied. "And it's almost two. No one's out there." Matt's hands found the bottom of my black t-shirt and pulled it up over my head. 

"Paul still has your bra?" he asked.

"He gave it back."

"Didn't think we fooled him," Matt said. He squeezed me from behind and his hands explored my naked breasts as we both looked at the drawing of naked Dorothy. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 04



Is he out there? I wondered totally thrilled by the idea of being watched. An involuntary moaned escaped me amplified by echos. With my eyes on Dorothy, I continued with my commentary of the nude. 

"I don't even use the word nude anymore. These women are, naked. No more nude studies or whatever ... naked portraits that's what they are. Naked portraits full of sex, longing and desire. In a slow twist, I turned to face Matt and pulled his tall frame down for a short kiss. Then I slipped out of his arms, undid my jeans and slid them down my legs. In just my skimpy dark blue panties, I turned and focused on Dorothy. "We artists are trained to be like doctors when it comes to the naked human form. We're detached, distant and clinical, conditioned to push emotions aside." I turned and deliberately walked toward the large window. For two seconds I saw Paul's face clearly as he flicked his cigarette lighter to light a smoke, and then even more startling, the light drifted to his right and briefly, I saw a female face; it was clearly Asian. Must be Trixie his date. The light went out and the face disappeared. A bit freaked out, I looked over my shoulder to see if Matt saw Paul and his date, but his eyes were on the drawing of Dorothy, clearly he didn't see a thing. 

Starting at my toes and finger tips, a throbbing, tingling sensation moved in time with my heartbeat. With slightly shaky hands, I slid my panties to the floor looking at the very spot where the woman's face had been. I turned around to face Matt and continued my diatribe on nude art. 

"When women explore sexuality in art, be it drawing, painting, sculpture, whatever, we use our own bodies. And when men explore their sexuality, they use the female body too. I always thought that it was so wrong the way you guys projected your sexual desires onto us." 

I slowly strolled in Matt's direction. When I got within his reach he pulled me in for a kiss. His eager tongue spoke volumes as it explored my mouth. The kiss ended and I said, "Maybe we modern thinking women have got it wrong all these years and it's you grunting chauvinists who've got it right for once." 

"Oink, snort," Matt said somehow sounding sincere. 

I laughed. "I wanna project my desires onto what I want most. I'm gonna do art of beautiful pectorals, muscled backs, tight asses, rippling legs and huge raging erections." 

"I don't quite fit the bill," Matt said. 

I cupped the longish bulge of his lovely erection in his nylon shorts. "You do in one important area." I dropped to my knees on the gallery's parquet floor and undid his shorts. "Lose the shirt, I want us both naked." I slyly turned us both to make sure that Paul and his date had a commanding view. Thus positioned, I looked up at Matt and said, "I owe you one for today." I then filled my mouth with the head of his penis, gripped the shaft with my right hand and cradled his balls with the left. In no time, I felt his body tense. I freed him from my mouth and held him firmly between us. Bursts of warmth struck the under side my chin. When Matt's body relaxed I stood, turned and looked out into the impenetrable darkness beyond the glass of the gallery walls with lines of cooling wetness striping me from chin to crotch.

**********

We locked up the gallery just after two in the morning. Thankfully, Paul and his date weren't waiting outside—I don't know what I would have done if they had. We walked to the dorms hips attached. Since Hawk was out of town, and Matt had a roommate, we used Hawk's dorm room. As we undressed for bed I gave Matt the Poe book I had found at the used bookstore. He gushed over it and absolutely loved the drawing of the Raven. 

Matt spooned behind me as we quickly drifted off to sleep for it had been a long day. 

"She is the night," he said in a sleepy voice recalling the odd words written below the raven.

"I am the night," I said for no reason and slipped off to sleep with Matt's comforting arms around me.

Chapter 29 The Book of Matthew

With my arms full of research books for a paper, I bent and just barely turned the knob on Hawk's dorm room door. 

"Hey," I said as I stepped in.

"Hey," Hawk said back. He lay stretched out on the bed reading something and made no move to get up to help me with my burden. In fact he didn't even bother to look up. I manage to just make it to the bed and spilled my armful of books at his feet. 

"Thanks for the help," I said sarcastically.

"You bet," he said totally unaware of my struggle or sarcasm. 

I noted the obvious erection straining the front of his shorts. 

"Anthropology really turn you on that much?" I asked as I fell on the bed beside him. 

"It's something Matt wrote," he said and flipped to the next page in the sheaf of papers in his hands.

"He writing porn now?"

"Pretty much," Hawk said. "It's about our encounter with Emiko and Kira Kokura a couple of months ago."

One bawdy night, about a week or so ago, Hawk and I told Matt about our fling with Kira and Emiko. Matt flipped and said he wanted to write it all down. Apparently he was a man of his word. 

"Just can't get enough of Emiko huh?" I asked with a crooked smile as I thought of Kira. "So what part are you reading?" I asked as I turned to look in the mirror on the back of the door. I had become mildly fearful of it ever since the odd dream or whatever it was from a few weeks ago. 

"The part with Emiko and me at the dress shop."

"Really?" I asked with a frown and turned away from the mirror. "That's one part of the evening I wasn't privy to."

"That's the only part of the story he's given me to read so far," Hawk said. 

"Really?" I asked again. 

Hawk lowered the reading and looked at me. "I know that tone," he said a bit exasperated. "How can you possibly be jealous? I made love to Emiko in front of you as you fucked her husband."

"Well? That part of the evening was ratified, but this?" I said as I snatched the pages from his hands and leafed back to the start. 

"Hey! I was reading that," he complained.

"You can rub off to Emiko later," I said and started to read.

**********

Red Dress, Black Dress by Matthew Anderson

Beautiful Emiko Kokura sat across from Hawk, her head in profile as she watched Gwen and her husband exit the bar. She turned and looked at Hawk and he wondered how they were going to bridge the language barrier. He knew damn well that talking about baseball wasn't going to work. 

Emiko smiled, slid out of the booth, stood and beckoned for him to follow. They left the bar and stepped out onto the sidewalk of busy Waikiki Boulevard. She took him by the hand and led him down the street. After a couple of turns, they were on Kalakaua Avenue were they entered a fancy clothing boutique.

The sales clerk, a pretty Hawaiian girl, smiled at them and said, "Welcome back to Waikiki Night Life." She repeated her greeting in fluent Japanese. Emiko bowed, and then she and the sales girl exchanged words for a minute. The salesgirl turned to Hawk and said in English, "Which pretty dress do you want her to wear?" 

"I'm supposed to pick a dress?" He asked bewildered. The sales girl nodded with a smile. Hawk pointed at manikin wearing a long sleeved short skirt thing that he thought was sexy. 

"Good choice for her figure," the salesgirl said. "I'll get it in her size. The dressing room is that way. If you like, you can go in with her. It's large enough for two and There's a comfortable place to sit.

"If it's okay with the lady," Hawk said. 

The sales girl translated. 

Emiko laughed, took Hawk's arm and led him to the dressing room. The room was all neutral cream from top to bottom including the rug; a small cream leather chair rested against one wall. Soft defused lighting filled the space. Hawk sat in the comfortable leather chair. The salesgirl returned with a dress on a hanger, put it on a hook near the door, and then left. 

Emiko ran her hands over the dress, kicked off her shoes, and then pulled the red dress she wore over her head in one smooth efficient move reducing herself to a low cut bra that covered the essentials and sexy hip huger panties, both items a deep red matching the dress she had just removed. She hung her dress on a hook and slipped the black dress on, pulling and tugged until everything was in order. Several mirrors offered interesting angles of Emiko's enticing little show. 

The dress was tight, leaving no curve undefined. You couldn't quit call it a Minnie but it wasn't far off, either way it was made for showing leg, and Emiko's healthy pair looked fantastic. The sleeves and turtleneck part were made of a clingy semi translucent material. Slightly more opaque material formed the body of the dress but it was see through to a point as her red bra and panties were interesting dark maroon shapes beneath. As Emiko studied herself in the mirror, Hawk's eyes went to the dark shape of her panties that nicely defined her lovely backside. She caught Hawk looking. A cute crooked smile touched her mouth as she removed her earrings. She put them in her purse, went to the door and called for the salesgirl. 

Emiko and the salesgirl exchanged words, and then the salesgirl left. Emiko pulled her hair to one side and made to remove the necklace she wore but couldn't get at the clasp. Hawk stood up to lend a helping hand. The smell of her expensive perfume increased his heart rate as he undid the clasp on her necklace. 

The salesgirl returned and handed Emiko three small, black boxes. Emiko opened one revealing a silver chain with matching loop earrings. The salesgirl opened a second box and displayed a silver choker studded with diamonds that looked very expensive. Hawk opened the third box and looked at a silver pendent in the shape a seahorse. Emiko exchanged words with the salesgirl. 

"You chose," the salesgirl said to Hawk. 

"The first one, the simple chain and the earrings," Hawk said only because he liked them. 

The salesgirl handed the selected set to Emiko. Emiko handed the salesgirl a credit card. As the sales girl turned to leave, Emiko said something to her. The salesgirl nodded and translated for Hawk, 

"The lady asks if she could see Gwen's drawing subject for herself right now," salesgirl said looked a bit bewildered at the odd request. 

"Tell the lady it would be my pleasure," Hawk said. 

The salesgirl relayed Hawk's response. Emiko nodded, smiled and blushed in that order. With a polite bow the salesgirl left the dressing area.

Emiko stepped to the mirror and put on the earrings. Hawk walked up behind her and helped her with the silver chain and as he helped, he put his face close and breathed in her sexy fragrance. Emiko responded by pressing her backside against his well established bulge. She turned around and they kissed. It was soft, sweet and inviting. The kiss broke, and with no apparent thought of the salesgirl returning, Emiko dropped to her knees and unbuckle Hawk's belt, the pants snap followed, and then the zipper, she slid his pants, along with his underwear, down to mid thigh.

As Hawk's rock hard erection hovered before her, Emiko said several things in Japanese. Hawk wished the sales girl was there to translate. Emiko reached out and gripped the shaft with both her hands holding him tight for a few seconds. She looked up into Hawk's face and spoke some more at an almost sub-vocal level making Hawk wished for a translator again. 

Gently, she cupped his balls with one warm hand as the other gripped the shaft just passed the circumcised head. She remained still for several seconds in focused contemplation. Just as Hawk started to worry that the salesgirl would walk in on them, Emiko broke her paralysis and lifted his briefs back into place. She laughed when she found that his erection resisted going back into its cage. With comical effort that made her laugh even more, she got the thing to stay under the elastic band creating a straining long bulge off to one side. She stood up and Hawk quickly pulled his pants up. Emiko giggled as he put his hands in his pockets to help cover up his state of arousal.

They left the dressing room and Emiko signed the credit card slip without looking at the amount and gave the salesgirl her red dress to put in a bag. Hawk glanced at the numbers on the cash register, $978.89.

**********

"Of all the stuff you and I did that night why did he write about this?" I asked Hawk with a frown.

"I wondered too," Hawk said with a shrug. "Seems pretty mild compared to the rest of the night."

"Yeah, mild," I echoed. 

The little story was charged with sexual heat and tension. Did Hawk have a thing for Emiko? Could I blame him? Did it Matter? She was thousands of miles away and they would probably never meet again. I thought of Hawk looking at Emiko in the mirror of the dressing room, I automatically glanced at the tainted mirror on the back of Hawk's door. 

"This story pales at what happened to him at the writer's conference he went to on Maui," Hawk said.

"What happened at the writer's conference?" I asked. 

Hawk stared at me wide eyed then he covered his face and said. "Fuck!" 

"What happened at the writer's conference?" I repeated casually, feeling everything but. 

Hawk dropped his hands and looked at the ceiling. "He said he was going to give you that story to read. I didn't know he hadn't yet."

"There's a story?"

Hawk sighed. "It all happened in the early stages of our thing with him. My guess is he didn't know were he stood with you and didn't want to jeopardize the relationship."

"But he confided in you and not me? Great, now I have two lovers who keep secrets from me."

"At the time I was the only friend he had," Hawk said in Matt's defense.

"What about me? Shouldn't I count in that category too?"

"Yes, but he's not in love with me." 

That deflated my anger a little. "You got a copy of the story?" I asked. 

After a short pause, Hawk got up and retrieved the story from the stack of papers on his desk. 

"Why is it on paper?" I asked as I took the stapled bundle. "Why didn't he send it to your laptop?"

"He's kind of behind the times when it comes to computer stuff." 

That was an understatement for Matt was out and out dumb when it came to computers. I elbowed Hawk out of the way and nestled in to read his story.

********** 

Elevator Music by Matthew Anderson

Every writer attending the Maui writer's conference had to have at least one short story or the first chapter of a novel to present. Two days before the conference, I had nothing. Out of desperation I wrote a story based on my first sexual group encounter with Gwen and Hawk, changing names and settings going out of my way to tone things down to a soft 'R' rating. 

The writing conference was a kind of workshop. They broke us up in groups of ten with one professional writer or instructor as mediator. The mediator would read all the pieces in the morning and then give verbal and written critiques in the evening. A selected few in each group would be asked to read his or her piece aloud. Because of the erotic content of my story, I was pretty confidant that I wouldn't be picked for an oral reading. 

I was so wrong. 

My mediator was a beautiful, curvy woman named C.J Elliott. She wrote erotic fiction for an e-book publishing company and of course all the stories she picked for oral presentation were erotic ones. 

An old Hawaiian guy in his eighties named Hubert, read first. His story was a steamy tale of a wounded soldier making it in a hospital bed with a stunning blonde haole nurse at a Navy hospital clinic as Japanese bombs fell to earth around them. The story turned out to be autobiographical. The haole nurse was named Dena and Hubert married her on December 30th, 1941. 

At the end of the story Hubert wrote of how he sat with his dying wife in the same Navy hospital not far from where they had consummated their eventual marriage. There wasn't a dry eye in the group when Hubert read the last line from his story. 

"Holding my hand, just before she died my wife said, This is nice but I don't miss the bombs." 

An Asian girl named Stephanie read next. She looked to be an even sixty inches tall. Pale and pretty with shocking, pale green eyes. Her brown hair was so light in color that it could be mistaken for blonde. Her Asian features, the light hair, the weird green eyes, and pale skin gave her a elfin quality. She nervously cleared her throat then stated the title of her story. 

"Death By Aluminum," by Stephanie Santos. 

Her voice was coarse and raspy, totally opposite of her delicate appearance. 

Hubert, who sat next to me in our little circle leaned in and said, "Portuguese and Japanese, dangerous combination."

I looked at his to see if he was joking, but I couldn't really tell. Back in Ohio, a blatantly racial comment like that would get him a dirty looks, but here in the Hawaii, people racially profiled each other on a regular bases and got away with it.

Stephanie's tale started out with a couple making out in the heat of a Hawaiian summer night on a yacht at the Maalaea boat harbor here on the island of Maui. Then suddenly, the story turned into a gore fest when the angry wife of the man making love appeared on the scene. In shocking graphic detail, the wife beat her cheating husband and his mistress to death with an aluminum baseball bat. In sickening detail, little elven Stephanie, in her grating, guttural voice, described the distinct sounds the bat made with each whack on different body parts: head shots made a high pinging sound and a whack at a man's crotch made a dull meaty thud to describe just two. 

I stole a peek at my reader's list to see if the story was listed as fiction or nonfiction. It said fiction but that meant nothing. The story ended with our murderess doing twenty-five to life at the Oahu State Pen. 

We took a short break and a group of women surrounded Stephanie, congratulating her on her powerful little tale. Because of the gleeful way she had described the guy in the story getting his crotch pounded to hamburger, none of us males ventured near. 

After the break I read my story with a lump of fear in my throat. To my dismay, it shocked me how much graphic detail I had left in the piece. I thought I had tamed it down in the final rewrite, but reading it aloud seem to put everything under a microscope and little details became huge. The had wrote the story with an existential leaning thinking that the surreal weirdness would blunt the erotic edge, but instead, it heightened it. The part of how the three figures trapped in the mirror on the back of the door looking out at the real people making love turned out great—and just a tiny bit creepy. 

Copies of all the stories of the people who had read were handed to everyone in the group to be critiqued and reviewed overnight. They would be handed back at the final meeting the next day. The group broke up and we headed for the exit. 

At the door, Herbert, the old Hawaiian guy who wrote the Pearl Harbor story slapped me on the back and said, "You one strange haole." 

I wasn't sure if he was complimenting me or just making an observation. 

I went back to my room to do my homework. I shared the hotel room with a fellow university student named Jared. He was back before me and lay on his bed scribbling notes in the margins of the story he read from his group. Without a word, I handed him a twenty-dollar bill. Jared took the money with a smug smile. The night before, he had read my story and bet me that I would be asked to read it aloud in my group. Like a fool I took the bet. Jared, who is gay, liked the way I had described the bodies of the men in my story. 

"So sexy and tense," he said, "A rare thing for a straight guy." 

I got down to reading and then writing notes for Hubert and Stephanie. At around nine, there was a knock at the door and members of Jared's group came to kidnap him for drinks and dancing. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 04



"I have a twenty burning a hole in my pocket right now," Jared said with a smile. "Since it's your money, I'll buy you a drink," he said to me. Tired and not in the mood for a noisy bar, I politely refused and went back to work. 

A half hour later, in the middle of reading Stephanie Santos' sorted tail for the second time, a knock came at the door. Probably more of Jared's group looking for the party, I figured as I threw opened the door. I was stunned to see Stephanie from my group standing in the hallway. She had on a simple pink clinging top tucked into faded jeans. Nice figure I thought and then I did my best not to notice how the nipples on her petite breasts poked at the material of her shirt. Her pale Asian face appeared unadorned except for glossy pink lipstick. Her silky almost blonde hair seemed to shimmer in the hallway light. My appreciation for Asian women has increased tenfold since meeting Gwen and I thought that Stephanie looked angelic. But unfortunately, she spoke. 

"You one big liar," she said in her jarring local accent a couple of decibels too loud, and in an octave that was just plain unnatural for a human being. 

I blinked at the odd accusation. "About what?" I asked confused. "If it's about my story, it was listed as fiction." 

Not waiting for an invitation, she stepped into the room. The vivid graphic image of an aluminum bat pinging off a human skull filled my imagination. Was her story autobiographical? I wondered again and was tempted to leave the door open. But bravely (or foolishly) I didn't give in to paranoia and closed it. 

"Az what I mean, that story not fiction," she said in thick local pidgin as she sat on my roommate's bed. "You and that other guy fucked that crazy Japanee girl in the mirror for real." 

"The girl in the mirror was crazy not the one in the real world," I corrected her. Then I blinked and added vehemently, "And I made the whole thing up!" 

"Bull shit," she returned and then asked, "You old enough to drink?" I blinked at the sudden shift in the conversation

"I'm only twenty," I confessed.

"No matter, I know the bartender," she said with an unwavering look that made me uncomfortable. "So young to be writing sexy tales like that. Guys sometimes have to be Hubert's age to write good sex."

I graciously accepted the compliment. Well I was almost sure it was a compliment. 

"I buy you drink and you can tell me mo' lies," she said.

It didn't occur to me to refuse her invitation. 

The hotel bar and restaurant was packed with people from the writer's workshop and Stephanie and I squeezed in at the bar. The bartender gave Stephanie a high five and never asked for my ID. Over beers, I learned more about her. She was thirty-three so I was off by twelve years for I thought she was closer to my age. She admitted to being of Portuguese and Japanese mix. I told her what Hubert had said about her racial mix and it made her laugh. I expected her laugh to be harsh and obnoxious, but instead, it was deep, soft and sexy. She told me she worked for a security firm here on Maui and before that, she was a deputy sheriff for Maui County. As she spoke, she light up a Marlboro red.

"Can I have one of those?" I asked and nicked a smoke from her. I had sort of quit smoking the moment I hit Hawaii when I found out how much a pack of cigarettes cost. I'm surprised anyone still smoked in the islands; heroine and crack cocaine were probably cheaper to buy. After three Coronas, I worked up the courage to ask, "Is all of your story fiction too?" 

Her eyes went cold and my heart jumped. Then she laughed her husky laugh. "Made um all up," she said. 

"Fuck you," I said but couldn't help feeling relieved (and just a wee bit disappointed too). I grabbed at the pack of cigarettes and stole my second of the evening. She flicked a pink Bic lighter and I took hold of her hand to steady the flame. The physical contact was electric. A part of my anatomy that needs no mentioning, responded predictably. I crossed my legs to cover up and asked, "So everything in your story was all made up then?" 

"Only one part was real." She flicked a long ash into the ashtray. "One night, when I still worked for the county, the sheriff and me was called to a domestic disturbance at the Wailuku Hawaiian homes. We encountered a drunken couple arguing in their yard. We separated the two, sending the wife in the house. But suddenly she came back out with an aluminum bat in her hands. She got in one good whack on her husband's head before we got it away from her. He wasn't seriously hurt but we called the paramedics just to cover our asses. We arrested the wife for assault with a deadly weapon." She pause to take a long draw on her cigarette. Then in a voice strangely gentle she continued. "The sound the aluminum bat made banging off that guy's head stayed with me for a long time." After a few seconds of quiet, she shrugged, and then asked out of the blue, "You wanna do it?" 

It was obvious what she meant. The expression on her face said she took no prisoners and I wondered how many men have run from that very look? A tiny part of me wanted too run too, it was the same part of me that was convinced she was the bat-wielding wife in her story. 

Yeah, I wanted to do it, but didn't have the courage to say it aloud so I simply nodded. We crushed out our cigarettes in the ashtray, drained our beers and exited the bar. 

"I have my own room," She said as we waited in the lobby for the elevator. 

"Good." 

"Got rubbers?" she asked. 

"No." 

We turned away from the elevators, crossed the lobby and stepped out on the street. We saw a local drug store and strolled in that direction. 

"I'll go get the rubbers. Any preference?" 

"Any brand, large." 

"Bragging?" 

"No," I said with a shrug. 

"Yeah right," she said sarcastically. 

I shrugged again. 

She stepped in close and brazenly gripped my pent up rock hard erection and ran her hand along it to judge the size. Her eyebrows went up, she batted her pretty eyes several times, and then went into the store returning two minutes later with a tiny bag that she kept clutched in her hands as we walked back to the hotel. 

We stepped in the elevator with an elderly tourist couple. The elderly couple hit the third floor button and Stephanie pressed the twenty forth floor button. The old couple got off on their floor. The moment the door closed, Stephanie dropped to her knees and started to unsnap my jeans. 

"Hey! What are you doing?" I asked.

"Pretty obvious I think," she said as she slid my jeans down just enough so she could see my erect penis straining in my briefs. She reached under the elastic band with her right hand and sprung me free. 

"Wow, so big haole boy," she whispered. 

"Um, I think they have security cameras in here," I said looking around at the upper corners of the elevator. 

"Camera's on the panel above the buttons, "Stephanie said casually still on her knees in front of me.

"Fuck!" I barked as I pulled my underwear and pants back up. Stephanie stood just as the elevator chime at the top floor of the hotel. She gave a soft throaty laugh as hit the ninth floor button. Apparently she had taken us to the top to get a look at my dick. She watched me arranged myself as best I could. On the way down, we picked up passengers at two stops. We exited at the ninth floor and then followed her to her room. The moment the room door closed I stepped toward her for a kiss, but she effectively strait armed me, took a step back, pulled her pink clingy shirt over her head, pealed her jeans down her slim pretty legs and stood before me in no nonsense white cotton bra and panties. Taking her cue, I started to pull my shirt over my head too. 

"No don't," she said. 

What the fuck? She's not changing her mind now? I thought in carnal panic. 

But her next move was encouraging. She undid her bra exposing her small pretty breasts. The areolas around her pale pink nipples matched her lipstick and I absently wondered if that was intentional. I sat down on the edge of one of the bed to watch the show. 

Hawk would love this, I thought at the sight of Stephanie sliding her panties down. The patch of hair between her legs matched the light brown hair on her head. She was slim with a wiry, tight, muscle tone. She turned her back to me and I admired her sweet slim ass. Then shockingly, she shimmied into a sexy black dress with spaghetti straps. 

"Um, we plan on going out?" I asked, wondering what part of 'you wanna do it' I had misunderstood. Liquoring me up, buying condoms, exposing my dick in an elevator, and then getting naked in front of me all added up to my definition of 'you wanna do it.' 

She straitened her dress then tossed me a condom. "I don't have pockets," she said in her jarring local accent then backed it up with her velvety laugh. "Follow me haole boy." 

I hadn't failed to notice that she went full commando, wearing no panties and bra under her dress. She led me pass the elevators, turned a corner then walked down a longish hall with no doors that ended in a lone elevator at the very end. Stephanie hit the down button. The elevator arrived and we stepped in. 

"This elevator is mostly used by room service to deliver meals," she said. "The kitchen closed at nine so not too many people use it at night." She smiled. "I like doing it in elevators and places like this. I scoped this one out the first day I was hear." 

She hit the twenty fourth floor button and we watched the numbers on the panel ascend. The door opened onto a empty hallway with a bend to the left exactly like the one on Stephanie's floor. Stephanie slapped at the button that said kitchen. Before the door fully closed, she dropped to her knees, unsnapped my jeans and pushed them down, along with my underwear far enough to spring my dick erection. The motor of the elevator softly hummed and the pull of the extra 'G's felt interesting on my exposed balls. 

"Condom," Stephanie said holding her hand out like a surgeon.

Worried about how our earlier elevator ride had filled with people quickly, I slapped the condom into her open palm. She tore the little packet open with her teeth and applied the latex sheath. My eyes flickered to the control panel where she said the security camera was located. 

As if reading my mind, she remarked, "Gonna be an interesting night in the security booth huh?" With the condom applied, she ran her fingers along my full length. "Some big you." 

I didn't say a thing because I felt she was addressing my dick directly and not me. 

She held out the empty condom packet in her open palm, I took it and clumsily stuffed it in the back pocket of my lowered jeans. My eyes went to the control panel again, I couldn't help it. 

Stephanie stood up and turned to face the door. She pressed up against me just as the elevator landed on the ground floor. The door slid open onto a well-lit functional white hallway. Near the elevator was a set of windowed double doors leading to what had to be the hotel kitchen; several serving carts lined the walls. Except for a low electric hum, the hall was silent and mercifully empty of people. 

Stephanie hit the twenty-fourth floor button. As we ascended she brazenly wiggled her ass against me. "Put it in," she said bending forward. 

I hiked her skirt over her pretty ass and guided my erection to her wet, slick opening. Worried that her small build would be a problem, I moved slowly and carefully. She gasped as the head of my cock went in. Half way in, I stopped to assess how she was doing.

"Go," was all she said. Gripping her slim hips, I gently pushed all the way in. "Go!" she said again, this time with urgency. I pulled out slowly and plunged back in slowly. She gasped and I felt her entire body shimmer. 

The elevator chimed, we both froze and looked at the number on the panel readout, we were on the twenty-fourth floor. The door slid open to an empty hall. Stephanie slapped at the kitchen button; we descended and I went back to work. 

"Fast," she said. I obliged and moved in and out of her as fast as our position would allow. My hands roved under her hiked up dress and found her small breasts and pinched both her hard pink nipples causing her to shout in her grating voice, "All right yeah!" Her orgasm hit as the elevator door opened onto the kitchen hallway. Understandably preoccupied, she didn't bothered to see if anyone was there. I did though, expecting to see hotel security waiting to demand that we cease and desist in our public display. The hall was empty. 

"Take me front ways," she said in a panting voice. I pulled out of her; she straitened out, turned to face me, hiked her dress up, guided my hands to to the back of her thighs and I lifted her up as she wrapped her legs high on my hips. I turned us and rested her back against the elevator wall closest to the control panel. She shimmied up higher on my body and wrapping her arms around my neck. She said, with her nose touching mine, "Put it in." 

I gripped my erection with my right hand to her wet opening. She lowered herself as I pushed up. Once in her, my guiding hand was free to roam over her tits under her dress. Wanted to see her breasts, I slid the dainty little spaghetti straps off her shoulders. She helped by threaded her arms free reducing her dress to a band of black cloth around her midsection. Greedily, I explored her exposed little mounds with eager hands. But all too soon, I needed my hands for support and dropped them down under her thighs. With a serious expression on her pretty elven face, we were off to the races again. 

She slapped at the number twenty-four on the control panel with the palm of her right hand. "Get me there befo' the top," she said somewhere around a laugh and a gasp. I wasn't sure if it was a request or a demand but I met the challenge.

"Oh fuck! Yeah!" she yelled as she came, her voice painfully loud in the enclosed space of the elevator. Five seconds later, the door slid open onto the twenty forth floor. 

I reached over and hit the ground floor button and we descended. My legs and back muscles were burning from exertion and I lifted her off my dick and lowering her to her feet. Without bothering to adjust her dress, she dropped to her knees, snapped off the condom and stuffed it into a pocket of my jeans pooled at my ankles. She took the head of my erection into her mouth; one hand grasped the shaft as the other worked my balls. She freed her mouth and looked up at me and said, "I like it when my lovers cum in my mouth in elevators." She took me back into her mouth, stopped again and added, "Taxis too," and then went back to her warm wet chore. 

In fascinated bliss, I watched as her hands and mouth worked my dick and balls with expert precision. Then, to my horror the elevator chimed. I looked up and saw that we were at the 19th floor. I looked down at Stephanie; she rolled her eyes up at me and gave a tiny shrug but didn't stop her intimate work. The door slid open and a lone middle-aged Asian guy in a bright white chef's jacket, standing behind a shiny chrome food cart stood before us, his eyes grew wide.

"I thought that the kitchen was closed?" I said stupidly trying to sound casual.

"The bar has a small kitchen for late night snack orders," the guy said. After a pause he added, absurdly polite, "Sorry, I'll use the the guess elevator."

With a grateful nod, I hit the close button. The guy and his cart disappeared from sight, and the elevator descended. 

My dick popped out of Stephanie's busy mouth as she let out a loud husky laugh, and then she went back to work. No one greeted us at the ground floor and back up we went. I exploded in her mouth at around the twentieth floor and not a drop was misplaced. 

The elevator chimed and the door slid open. The hall was empty. Stephanie freed me from her mouth and stood up. Not bothering to fix her dress, she tipped toed and pulled me in for a salty kiss. I pivoted us just so I could see her pretty little ass in the mirrored back wall of the elevator. The kiss broke. She looked at the control panel and hit the number nine. As we ascended, she fixed her dress and I pulled my jeans and underwear up, adjusted, zipped and buttoned up as best I could. As the door opened onto the ninth floor, she kissed me again long and soft. 

In her coarse voice she said, "That was the best elevator fuck I ever had." With a hint of sadness she added, "I gotta go, my boyfriend picking me up in the morning. If he knew about this he would kill you." And on that note, she gave me a sweet parting smile and stepped out of the elevator. 

I saw her again at late morning the next when the writing group met for the last time. With the sweetest of smiles, she handed me my story. As the mediator spoke, I read what Stephanie had written in the margins on the front page. 

Real stuff makes the best fiction don't you think?

**********

"He certainly has developed a thing for Asian girls," I said trying to sound neutral as my brain sizzled in the hot greasy fat of jealousy.

After the proverbial pregnant pause, Hawk asked, "How you feeling?"

"You're one to ask that?" I said angrily then regretted it immediately. 

"Need me to leave?" he asked.

"No. This is your place silly. I'll go to my studio." I got up and grabbed my backpack. At the door, I kissed Hawk's lightly on the lips. "Don't tell Matt about any of this until I work it out okay."

He nodded then said, "I'm a fucking idiot for outing him." 

My eyes looked in the mirror on the back of the door and I asked, "Did you read that story he wrote for the writer's conference about us in the mirror?" I asked.

"Yes," Hawk said. "I liked it but it was kind of disturbing.

I left without another word. 

Chapter 30 New Sanctuary and a Skeleton in the Closet

A grid of gray squares, a monochromatic answer to Mondrian's colorful grids, sat on my studio easel. It was inspired by the grid painting from the undergrad show by the girl named Blue. While her painting looked liked solidified fragments of space and time, mine looked like a fucking beach towel, and an ugly one at that. Clutching a brush in each hand, I pressed my knuckled fists to my forehead, squeezed my eyes shut and said aloud, "I can't paint in here anymore!" 

I was being irrational of course. My little studio had nothing to do with my current block, it was the tiny space between my ears causing all the trouble. Irrational or not, I needed to get out. I approached a large canvas facing the wall stashed in the furthest corner of my shoebox shaped studio. I pulled the canvas out and swapped it for the gray beach towel on my easel. 

In the painting, a female figure knelt facing forward, hands between her breasts fingers laced. She looked like she was praying. The figure's skin was pale whitish pink with a hint of blue. Her pubic hair stood out in dark contrast against the pale skin as did the blackish-blue nipples. The background was a deep black-blue and the figure's jet-black hair was just discernible from the background. The figure appeared ghostly, almost glowing in a way against the dark background, the trace of a Mona Lisa smile touched her mouth.

Fear of my mentor, Erma Beaumont, knocking at my door for a spot inspection flushed through me. The fear was beyond irrational, because in all the time I've been a graduate student here at Honolulu University, Erma has never once visited my studio. Embracing my paranoia, I took the time to conceal my painting with craft paper using lots of masking tape. I felt stupid as for the trip to the large painting classroom was a very short walk from my studio door. I tossed tubes of paint and my bundle of brushes into a beach bag. On a whim, I grabbed Sally's Willendorf fetish bronze and tossed it into my makeshift kit. I left my tiny studio and made a bee line to the painting department classrooms. At the last moment, I bypassed the painting studio and slipped into the figure painting studio further down into Kang Den territory. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 05



Chapter 32 Mystery Client

The sound of Meka Okuda's squeaky office chair made my fillings ache.

"You ever considered oiling that thing?" I complained.

"Oiling what thing?" Meka asked absently as she worked on a drawing in her sketch book. 

The digital clock on a shelf near the door said that it was twenty minutes to noon, Li Hong would be here any moment. Almost against my will, I reached into my bag to feel the thick envelope of cash Meka had given me a couple of hour ago. One thousand five hundred dollars in twenties had such a unique feel and weight. 

"That's the tenth time you felt up that money, "Meka said not looking up from her sketching. "Why don't you just rub it against your body and get it over with already."

I pealed two twenties from the envelope, held one in each hand and rubbed the bills over my shirt covered nipples and gasped with passion. 

Meka looked up from her drawing with a frown. "You fucking lolo weirdo," she said. Her cell rang, she looked at the incoming number then flipped it opened. "This is Meka, talk to me." A couple minutes later she shut her phone and said, "Deirdre Kaahumanu Smith will be my second tonight."

"Super Goth girl?" I blurted out. 

"I've heard her called less flattering things," Meka said with a laugh. 

"It's the way she dresses sometimes," I said, "over the top even for a Goth." 

What I knew about Deirdre Kaahumanu Smith filtered through my brain. The girl was of Hawaiian and Caucasian mix. Her features classic Hawaiian yet her skin was ghostly white giving her a very exotic look, plus she was tall, at five-eight, maybe more and the chick was one hundred percent pure militant lesbian. 

We joke in the painting department, that a person's body piercings is a gauge to one's lack of artistic talent. In other words, the greater the amount of piercings the more you sucked. But Deirdre the goth lesbian is a rare exception to the rule. Her photo portrait work is outstanding, although her subject matter, mainly other goth lesbians, has become a bit repetitive. 

A knock came at the door. Meka got up and opened it. Standing outside Meka's studio was an extremely beautiful Asian girl at five foot six inches tall. Her hair cut short like a boys. She wore a clinging cream colored top with short sleeves, jeans and black running shoes. Her figure was tight and athletic. It was of course the famous Li Hong. 

"David didn't come with you?" Meka asked. I heard the pang of disappointment in her voice.

You like this David guy, I immediately thought. 

"He gave no indication he was coming," Li said. 

Meka allowed Li to step in, and then closed the door behind her. It took all my will power not to gush like a wide eyed celebrity worshiping fan. After Don Ho and Brother Iz, Li Hong was the most recognizable celebrity in the islands. Meka introduced me. 

"This is Gwen Yoshimura my assistant." 

"Hi," Li said with a smile just for me it seemed. 

A dorky smile of my own spread across my face. I wanted to tell her how awesome she was and if she could sign a picture of her that I didn't have. Fortunately, Meka pushed me aside before I started babbling like an idiot. 

"Please sit and we'll talk about the shoot." Meka said. 

Li nodded and sat on Meka's small loveseat sofa. The loveseat was the same size as the one in my studio, but that's where all similarities stopped. My loveseat was a ratty rundown piece of shit I got from Goodwill. Meka's on the other hand, was made of dark brown suede, plush and surely free of bugs. I sat next to Li and Meka sat across from us in her squeaky office chair. 

"So what's your vision?" Li Hong asked Meka directly.

"I see you standing on a diving board in a white evening dress," Meka said all business. "You dive fully dressed. I take photos of you on the way down and more as you climbing out looking sexy in the wet garment. I photograph you taking off the dress then shoot you diving again in the nude."

"Where do we do this?" Li asked.

"Don't know yet," Meka said, "I'm waiting for David to tell me. Do you own a white evening dress?" Before Li could answer Meka waved her hands. "Never mind, it would only get ruined. We'll buy one for the shoot." Meka handed me a credit card. "You and Gwen can get one later." Meka fetched her sketchbook, shooed me from the loveseat, and then sat next to Li. Li tapped the armrest next to her indicating I should sit there so I could see too. Meka's thumbnail sketches of the photo poses were elegant and to the point. The sketches were very good; the chick certainly can draw.

"When did you do these?" Li asked impressed by the drawings too.

"Today" Meka said. Just then Meka's cell rang. "It's David," she announced and took the call. After listening and nodding for a few seconds she said goodby and shut her phone. "We have a location for the shoot. A pool at a community college not far from here. The place will be cleared of people for the shoot at five today." 

"Can I see some of your photos?" Li asked as she closed the sketch book. Meka nodded went to a shelf full of books and pulled down a large photo album. For the next few minutes Li and I looked at Meka's work. The woman certainly had a knack for quirky portraiture. 

"I like that one," I said looking at a color photo of a pretty Asian girl in a black sleeveless dress. She held a smoldering cigarette in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. The expression on the girls face was somewhere between a smile and a frown. Her black hair, pinned up but just barely for much of it spilled out around the edges. As pretty and quirky as the model was, it was the odd surreal element of the planet Jupiter with a field of stars dominating the background that held my attention. 

"I never got her name," Meka said. "She was from Tokyo I think. I met her at a grad mixer thrown by the Astronomy department. The background is a mural in a hallway. That was the only shot I took of her."

Li turned the page and the next photo was a sexy picture of Meka wearing just a white dress shirt standing facing forward, her dark nipples just barely visible through the material of the shirt.

"I like it, very sexy," Li said.

I suppressed a smile as Meka blush. 

The Next photo was of two Asian women posing in some kind of dressing room, a long mirror with lights above it dominated the background. The women looked right at the camera, one sat in a plain plastic chair, the other sat on the edge of the makeup counter under the mirror. Both women were topless wearing just dark blue bikini bottoms; their faces were painted white in kabuki style, lips deep red, eyes made up in blue, green and black giving them a strange avian look. Their long jet black hair was too perfect and had to be wigs. The one seated held a smoldering cigarette in her right hand.

"It's the Kabuki Sisters!" Li exclaimed.

"You know them?" Meka asked.

"I don't know them personally," Li said. "They perform at an upscale club I go to sometimes. Their act is freaky."

"They're a strange pair no doubt about that," Meka said but didn't elaborate further. The topless Kabuki sisters were the last photo in the book. 

"David said that you've do a lot of work for him. Do you have some of that to show?" 

"Sorry, all that stuff is private. I don't even have copies for myself," Meka said with an edge of irritation. Meka got up, put the photo album away, and then went to stand in front of a strange piece of art hanging on her wall. The piece consisted of a verity of keys glued down in a circular spiral pattern. "Sally from sculpture did this. It's titled Keeping Secrets." Meka reached up and ran her fingers over the keys. 

Li looked at me wondering what this was all about. I shrugged for I had no idea. 

Meka went to the door, turned the lock, then she walked to her desk, cleared off some of the clutter, crawled onto the top of it and gingerly stood up. She reached for a high shelf mounted to the hollow tile wall above the desk and gripped a clunky ceramic bowel sitting on an old fashion wooden file box with a lock on it, she moved the bowl aside, and then pulled down the box. After getting down off her desk with the file box, Meka went back to the collage of keys made by Sally and plucked a specific key free from the hundreds of swirling keys in the piece. With the selected key, she unlocked the big old brass lock. Inside the file box was a large white envelope that Meka handed to Li. 

Intrigued, Li sat at Meka's desk causing the old office chair to scream in squeaky protest. My face twisted at the awful sound and I decided to make it my personal mission to oil the fucking chair. As Li opened the envelope, I noticed that Meka's face was tight with emotion. Li pulled out what looked like a stack of eight by ten photos. From where I sat on the leather loveseat I couldn't see what the photos were. I desperately wanted to, but Meka hadn't invited me to look, so I reluctantly stayed where I was. 

"If you make me look half as good, I'd be more than happy," Li said. 

The compliment made Meka smile. Li held out a photo and it was a full frontal nude of Meka with head cocked to one side, the same dress shirt she wore in the photo Li and I had seen earlier was slung over her right shoulder. Her other arm rested at her side and she stood with one foot forward in a classic contrapposto pose, ala Michelangelo's David. Meka's mass of wavy hair had it's own agenda, cascading down her shoulders almost covering her right breast. Her pubic hair was a full, black, lusty triangle.

"This is my favorite," Li said holding out another photo of Meka on her knees, fully nude, looking out with a serious expression on her face. An old bulky camera hung around her neck from a strap. The old camera rested snugly between her full breasts. 

"I picked up the camera at an appliance repair store on a whim a couple of years back," Meka said. 

"Yeah, it's the camera that's the most interesting thing in the shot," I said. Then and there, I decided I wanted to do a nude painting of my new best friend.

Li handed me the stack of photos and since Meka didn't snatched them away, I went through them. They were all nudes of Meka.

"I love this one," I said and held out a color photo of Meka standing nude in a staircase painted to look like a jungle. I knew that staircase well for it was the infamous eastern staircase here at the art department totally covered with murals dating back to the seventies when the art building was first built. "You're a damned good photographer," I stated. 

"And a damned good model," Li added. 

"I'm just glad I bikini trimmed that week," Meka said. 

I laughed understanding exactly where she was coming from. 

"You two go get the white dress," Meka said. She handed Li and I a clipping from a fashion magazine. "Get something as close to this as you can. You guys know where the community college pool is?" Li and I nodded. "Good. Keep your phones on you, I'll call if there are any changes. See you at the pool."

Chapter 33 Li Hong and an Unexpected Turn

Li Hong and I drove to the Ala Moana Shopping Center in Li's golden bronze sport's car. I don't know much about cars and all I could tell was that it was expensive. We hit all the fancy boutiques looking for a dress like the one in the clipping Meka gave us, but each store was a bust. Three hours later, in near desperation, we staggered into Sears. The moment Li stepped out of the dressing room I knew we had a hit. The dress was long-sleeved, floor length and clung in all the right places showing off her tight athletic figure. I held the clipping up to compare.

"We have a winner," I said. 

"How do I look?" Li asked doing a pirouette. 

"Great," I said and meant it, for the girl had a surprisingly respectable bust line. So much for the flat chested athletic stereotype, I mused. 

Li insisted on paying for the dress. 

Outside Sears, my stomach rumble. 

"Since you payed for the dress, Meka's paying for lunch," I said holding up Meka's credit card. We headed for the food court and made a beeline to Panda Express for fast Chinese food. I got the orange chicken with beef lo mien and a soda, Li ordered the twice-cooked pork, shrimp fried rice and bottled water. We sat in the big restaurant common area to consume our unhealthy but oh so delicious lunch. 

"Who's this David Meka keeps talking about?" I finally had to ask. 

"David Tanaka? He's the guy who set this all up," Li said around a mouth full of shrimp fried rice. 

"You think he and Meka might have a thing?" I asked remembering Meka's disappointed look that the David guy hadn't come along. 

"I've only met Meka in the last couple of weeks." Li informed me with a shrug. 

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, and then immediately regretted it for this was just the kind of thing Meka didn't want me doing with her paying customers. "Never mind. That is none of my business," and stuffed my mouth full of orange chicken to keep myself from talking. 

Li went quiet as I nervously chewed my lunch. Because of my big mouth, Meka may have just lost a client and I was surely out of a job. Unexpectedly, a gaggle of teenage girls were at the table asking for Li's autograph. Li smiled sweetly at them as she acquiesced. She even posed with a couple of the girls for cell phone photos.

"Sorry for being so nosy," I said after the fans had cleared out. 

Li held my eyes for several seconds making me feel uncomfortable. Finally she spoke.

"My whole life I've had this good girl image. Good student, good athlete, good citizen. She laughed. "I think I've shook the hand of every world leader on the planet even that dick in North Korea. I grew tired of my nice girl image; I wanted to punch it in the face. A professional surfing friend of mine did a nude spread in a man's Magazine. She was a lot like me and the nude thing changed her life. I called her and she hooked me up with David Tanaka." Li gave me a sad odd smile. 

"I thought this Tanaka guy would be all over a celebrity like me getting naked and stuff. But he wasn't. He asked me some very direct questions about my motivations and I flatly told him that I wanted to rock my parents boat. You see, my parents are Born Again Christians and key members of the Honolulu Chinese Christian Ministry. David gave me a stern look, and then politely told me to go away and do some growing up. It took a year and a half ... but I did." She paused and contemplated a piece of shrimp at the end of her plastic fork. "Now I'm doing this because I'm an exhibitionist and get off on showing the world my exquisite physique." She smiled and then laughed. "It thrilling and a little bit dirty. Anyway, that was honest enough motivation for David. He went out and found Meka so here I am." 

I thought of my new naked portraits. Li was right on, getting naked is a thrill to and I so desperately wanted to show them to somebody other than my friends. Li seemed a perfect person to share them with. "Come on, eat up," I said, "I want to show you some art." 

After the meal, we headed back to campus to my studio. 

After the cluttered but neat appearance of Meka Okuda's studio, I was embarrassed by the chaotic messiness of mine, but Li didn't seem to notice and only had eyes for my two Shelly nudes."These are fantastic," she said and I could tell she meant it.

"It's like what you said about the photo shoot tonight," I told her. "I love these paintings because I'm naked. I get a rush when others look at them." I went to a corner of my studio and pulled out a third painting. I had worked on it in a near frenzy on the night I had my sleazy exorcism with Hawk and Matt.

"My God Gwen ... they're beautiful," Li said.

"I see these two in my dreams," I told her.

The painting was of redheaded Venus and the short haired version of me. Both figures were naked standing side by side facing forward. I had stressed the height difference between the figures Venus being six inches taller. Since the figures were from my dreams I gave the painting a surreal bent ala the Belgian surrealist Rene Magritte. The two women stood in a forest inspired by the Iao Valley rain forest. The spaces between the trees alternated day and night. Hidden in one of the night areas was my wooden forest goddess barely defined by faint green lines hinting at glow in the dark paint.

"You're the first person to see this," I said with heartfelt emotion.

"Did you use to have short hair at one time?"

"No. Like I said, I only see her in my dreams."

"You look good with short hair," Li said. Our eyes met and an unexpected tension filled my little studio. At that moment my cell rang and I pulled it it from the front pocket of my jeans. It was Meka.

"Got a dress I hope?" Meka asked getting to the point.

"At Sears and Roebuck no less," I said.

"That should have saved me a few bucks and nobody says Roebuck anymore, lolo."

I laughed. "Li paid for the dress so you paid for lunch."

"Sweet Holy Mother! I've seen you eat girl!"

"Fuck you," I said.

"Same to you, see you tonight." Meka ended the call.

I turned to face Li to continue our conversation and the crazy chick covered my mouth with a kiss! My eyes stayed wide open and I made a muffled sound of protest, and then seconds later, my eyes fluttered closed as I gave in to the unexpected. Neither of us used our hands, our bodies barely touching. As I spiraled down into the kiss, I thought, this chick is a hell of a kisser. When the kiss ended my eyes slowly blinked open to find Li looking at me with a serious expression. 

"I'm going home to freshen up ... You wanna come?" she asked with a hitch in her voice. She seem as overwhelmed as I by the suddenness of ... whatever this was.

"No, I can't" I said as panic set in. "I have things to buy for Meka before the stores close." The excuse was as lame as it sounded. 

"Okay," Li said. "See you at the pool then?" The girl left without another word. 

"Holy shit," I whispered. Rebelling against her family's religious conservatism wasn't the only issue in Li Hong's life ... apparently.

Chapter 34 Poolside

Hours later, in Hawk's borrowed white Ford Bronco, he was stuck in tonight grading papers, I arrived at the pool at the same moment Li pulled into the parking lot in her sports car. She stepped out of her car looking good in jeans, a light green puffy sleeve top and sneakers. I wore black slacks and a black t-shirt as was Meka's request.

"Hey," Li said cheerfully, but I could sense an edge of nervousness in her tone. At first I thought that the nervousness had to do with the impromptu kiss earlier, but that proved untrue when she said. "I liked kissing you." She didn't wait for a response and walked passed me into the building.

I'm not a lesbian! I felt like clarifying but didn't and simply followed her inside the building. The swimming pool lights were the only lights on at the moment giving the place an eerie blue-green glow. This is so cool I thought with a smile of excitement.

Meka's electronically enhanced voice boomed at us from everywhere.

"Come up to announcer's booth in the stands."

At poolside, Li and I turned and saw Meka waving at us from behind the glass of the announcer's booth at the top of the stands. We climbed the stairs and entered the booth. We found Meka talking to a good looking Asian guy with salt and pepper hair in a black polo shirt, black shorts and Birkenstock sandals. The guy looked familiar. I tasked my brain trying to remember were I knew him from, but came up with nothing. Three were three other people in the booth too. 

Meka introduced Li and me to everyone. The older Asian guy was the mysterious David Tanaka. Next was Brian, the spotlight operator, a youngish local boy in black board shorts and a plain black t-shirt. The guy was cute in that local, carefree surfer kind of way. The makeup person was a skinny haole guy named Cole who wore black Versace Jeans, a long sleeved, black shirt buttoned up at the neck and at the cuffs. His blond hair was perfectly sculpted.




Naked Portraits Pt. 05



Li was introduced to Deirdre Kaahumanu Smith. Deirdre and I nodded, not needing introductions having seen each other enough in the hallways of the art building. Deirdre was dressed in black slacks, a black sleeveless leotard and black work boots. Surprisingly, she wore no makeup, allowing her natural beauty to show unabated. Even her hair appeared to be freshly shampooed. 

Brian the spot operator eying Deirdre up and down. 

Forget about it dude, I felt like telling him, the chick will kill you if she sees you leering at her with the misogynistic male gaze. Then he checked out Li. Strike two dude. Then the guy checked out Meka. Better, but she's out of your league surfer boy, strike three. His eyes came my way. Sorry dude, already got a surfer boyfriendi. Although he was kind of cute. If I blurred my eyes a bit he kind of looked like Keanu Reeves around the edges. 

David and Brian went to one corner of the booth to study the layout of the light panel and the rest of us paraded out to poolside to check out the space.

Meka said, "Cole, go set up in the lady's locker room. Li will join you shortly." 

"What's the look?" Cole asked hefting a duffel bag and dragged behind him a bright fuchsia stewardess carryall on wheels. 

"An expensive evening out. She'll be wearing white. Take these and see what you can use." Meka gave him a Ziplock bag full of jewelry. "I'll be shooting in both color and black and white." 

The lights came on overhead. Meka walked to the pool's edge with a serious limp as she favored her right leg. She looked up at the diving platform and extended board. 

"This okay Li? It's not too high is it?" Meka asked.

"No problem this is fine," she said with absolute confidence. 

"Good. Go to the lady's locker room and put on the underwear Cole has for you. He'll paint on your face." David and Brian walked out of the booth and traipsed down to poolside. Meka said to David, "I need the telephoto lens." 

David went to a bag on a bench and returned with the lens. 

"Nice, where did you rent this?" Meka asked admiring the lens. 

"Buying a new one was faster," David said with a shrug. 

"This is a fifteen hundred dollar item," Meka said.

David shrugged again.

Where do I know this guy from? I thought again in frustration. 

Meka gave the lens to Deirdre and told her, "Go up high into the stands above the diving platform. Set up for a frontal shot." 

"You the man," Deirdre said and went on her way. 

"Yes I am," Meka said at Deirdre's retreating back. To Brian she said, "Set up number one spot there," she pointed at the stands. "Can it throw that far?" 

It was Brian's brief moment to shine. He puffed up a couple of shirt sizes and said in his local surfer accent, "This da most powerful portable spots ever engineered that run on a one-ten current, mama. It have six different color slides and the sucka will throw. Wea' I get the juice is the real question." 

David pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and unfolded an electrical schematic of the facility. I was impressed by his organization. 

"There's outlets for the cleaning crew right were you're setting up, "David said. "Take the fifty foot extension cord." Brian marched off with his portable spotlight and stand on one shoulder and the power cable over the other.

"You're spot number two, "Meka told David. "Set up down here, front left." He gave her a two-finger salute and went to work. Meka handed me a plastic grocery bag and said, "I need an inventory of how much film I have. The yellow boxes are color film and the green ones are black and white."

"You da man," I said just the way Deidre had. 

"Get to work or I'll dock your pay," Meka threatened playfully.

"Why you limping," I asked her.

"Scratched myself on some junk in the sculpture yard taking photos of Oleander Wong's art." Meka bent and raised her right pant leg to reveal a large bandage on her lower calf. "I had to get a tetanus shot so my right arm hurts like shit too." 

I grimaced and said, "That's why I stay away from the sculpture yard, the place is dangerous and clearly unsanitary." 

On a concrete bench at poolside I lined up and inventoried the little boxes of film. I counted out ten color and five black and white and told Meka so.

"Why are we using film?" I asked. "It kind of limiting ain't it? You can take endless photos with a good digital camera."

"I like the finite limitations of film photography," Meka said as she fiddled with a camera. "Forces me to be more creative and selective." 

David, who was tinkering with his spotlight nearby said, "I like the edgy quality of film. Too bad it's a dying art." He pulled out a small note book, walked to the concrete bench, counted the film boxes for himself and made a notation. Then I watched him open each box and write something on each roll of film with a red Sharpie marker.

"What's that all about?" I asked Meka quietly.

"Strict rules on a celebrity shoot," Meka said. "All film has to be accounted for before and after."

Done with his task, David turned toward Meka and pulled a little packet from his top pocket and handed it to her. 

"Use this card for your digital," He said then he went back to setting up his spotlight.

"Wouldn't take much to sneak something out." I said in a low whisper as I came up with a dozen sneaky things I could do it.

"I wouldn't try it," Meka said in the same low whisper. "David is ex-navy ops. You wouldn't make it to the door." 

I gave David Tanaka a worried look and Meka laughed.

"The biggest deterrent for mischief is that David pays very well. You'd be lolo to fuck up a choice gig like this."

I kept staring at the guy, for that feeling that I knew the him from somewhere just wouldn't go away. At that moment David looked up and our eyes met causing my heart rate to increase. 

"Pua'a Video is where you know me from," David said still holding my gaze and gave me a tiny smile. 

The guy must read minds I thought as the memory clicked. David was the guy behind the counter at the adult movie store I accidentally staggered into a few months ago.

"You hang around porno shops?" Meka asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Just that one time," I said, totally embarrassed. My eyes dropped as I was unable to look David in the face anymore. "I was a little drunk too," I mumbled low so that only Meka could hear. 

"Did you like the movie I suggested?" David asked

"What did you rent?" Meka asked amused at my embarrassment. 

"Ghost and Haiku," David volunteered.

"You rented a Jade Tama movie?" Meka asked surprised almost startled. 

"I never got a chance to see it," I confessed not meeting anyone's eyes now.

"Too bad," David said, "it's one of Tama's best.

"Grab the bag of film and follow me to the lady's locker room," Meka said as she armed herself with three cameras. 

More then happy to end that conversation, I followed her to the locker rooms.

Chapter 35 Naked Portraits; Li Hong 

We encountered Li sitting stiffly on a metal folding chair wearing the lacy white underwear Meka had instructed her to put on. Cole sat facing her applying color to her eyes; Li's face was an interesting mix of beauty and anxiety. Meka got out the camera with the color film and snapped a shot.

"I've got more to put on," Cole said. 

"I wanna document the process," Meka said snapping another shot. Meka handed me the digital camera." Can you handle this?" 

"I have one like it only way cheaper I bet. If it's like mine it's idiot proof." I said as I took the camera. 

"I wouldn't know about that. You are a declared art major," Meka said deadpan.

"I would say fuck you but I'm too much of a lady to use such language," I said as I pointed the camera and took a shot of Li seated in the beige, metal folding chair with her eyes rolled in my direction. 

"Get Cole in the picture," Meka ordered as she snapped another shot with the color film. 

"About time someone paid attention to the makeup people," Cole said. 

"We'll do a whole documentary just around you Cole," Meka said."We'll call it Make Up Your Mind."

"I LIKE it," Cole said.

Meka laughed and took another shot of Li. 

"Ignore the flashing cameras," Meka said to Li, "and the fact that you're sitting in a cold folding metal chair in skimpy underwear in front of total strangers." Meka snapped another picture. 

"Yeah, right," Li said with a nervous laugh. A doubtful expression clouded her beautiful Chinese face. 

"Cole step away please," Meka said. "Li, stand up and study your face in the mirror like you're adjusting your makeup." Li did and she looked amazing in the lacy white underwear; years of Olympic training added up to breathtaking physical perfection. Meka snapped a shot. "Lean on the counter and look close at your reflection. You look great. Cole make her laugh she's too serious."

"If I weren't interested in only boys I would be all over you like white on a sailor," Cole said. It did the trick, Li smiled and Meka took her shot. Cole said, "Two Portuguese sailors and a goose entered a bar—" 

He never got beyond that because Li burst out with loud laughter and so did I. Meka took several more shots as she laughed. 

Meka said, "When the make up is done switch to the evening dress and jewelry, I'll see you at pool side." She turned to leave then added, "Wear nothing underneath." 

"Are we going to use the underwear again?" Li called after her. 

"No we're done with that!" Meka shouted without turning. "Follow me Gwen"

"Okay," I said as I took one last shot of Li. Her panic expression quite comical. 

"She looks a little unsure about all this," I said as I caught up to Meka.

"I know," Meka said with a sly smile. "I knew that posing in the underwear would make her uptight creating a perfect balance of anxiety and beauty." 

"So you don't want Li looking sexy and alluring?" I asked.

"No way. Enough of that crap is going around already. Honest expression is a rare thing in nude photography."

"I'm not sure if I should call you genius or just cruel."

"Call me a cruel genius," Meka said.

At poolside, the two spotlights were up and running and panned about like a mini Hollywood opening. I smile and said, "This is so much fun."

"Beats scooping cement with a shovel," Meka said with a smile too.

I laughed for that was a saying my dad used quite often. 

"Deirdre you set?" Meka shouted. 

"I need a body to check my levels," Deirdre called from the stands. 

Meka limped to the diving platform and pathetically started to climb.

"Jesus girl, I'll go," I said with a roll of my eyes. Meka gave me an appreciative smile as I climbed the ladder. At the top, I walked out to the back end of the diving board connected to the platform and peeped over the edge down to the glassy water far below. 

"Is this good enough? I'm not going out on that board," I called. 

"Super Goth Girl would have no fear," Deirdre called out in a mocking superhero's voice. Apparently her behind the back nick name wasn't a secret to her. A spotlight hit me from below temporarily dazzling me.

"Got what you need Deirdre? I'm freaking out here," I said, my voice echoed back at me in the large empty space. Chicken sounds came from the stands. "I'll take that as a yes," I said suppressing a laugh as I backed up and climbed down the ladder. 

As I walked to where David and Meka stood, I saw Li step out of the lady's locker room. Walking barefooted, she made no sound as she neared the pool. In the dress she looked like she was floating and not walking. Meka noticed Li's too and made a beeline to her cameras resting on a concrete bench, picked one up and quickly snapped a shot of David with the near ghostly figure of Li gliding toward us. 

"Hey, you're not being paid to take my ugly picture," David protested. Meka pointed behind him and he turned and saw Li. "Awai," David said very much surprised. 

In the short time that I have known him, David impressed me as the kind of guy who had seen it all. If he was impressed, Meka was very much on the right track with Li's look. 

"You're not ugly," Meka said to David, playfully bumping him with her shoulder. 

She likes the guy for sure, I thought. 

Even though David seemed a little old, I had to admit that there was something about him that held my interest. The word manly certainly fit him well. Maybe it was the ex-navy special ops thing. It made me wondered if he ever killed anyone. I watched David's eyes taking in Li's backside as she passed him. He saw that I saw him looking, so he quickly returned his attention to his spotlight. 

Meka circled Li taking shots with her camera. 

Unsure what to do, Li looked vulnerable and nervous and then she gave an exasperated laugh and said, "You keep taking my picture when I'm not ready." 

"Because that's when you look your best," I whispered to myself agreeing with Meka's earlier assessment that Li looked great with that edge of vulnerability. 

In general, the girl was stunning and I couldn't help but notice the way her nipples showed through the white material of the dress. Cole did a great job with her short boyish haircut, combing it to one side with a flip ala Hale Berry. A simple strand of pearls adorned her elegant neck with matching dangling cluster earrings. She looked like she should be walking down the red carpet at the Academy Awards. Coal appeared at poolside with a bright yellow plastic tool box. He put the box on a bench, opened it revealing a professional makeup studio. 

"Cole you are an artist," I said giving him the biggest compliment in my book. 

"I had a hell of a canvas," Cole said lowering himself on the bench next to his kit. He tried to look nonchalant but I could tell that he was pleased with the praise. 

"Up you go," Meka said to Li. "Gwen, document the assent." 

I lookes at the little screen of the idiot proof digital camera and took shots as Li climbed the ladder. The dress gave her a little trouble because no dress on the planet is designed for ascending ladders. At the top, Li casually walked out to the end of the board making my heart do flip flops at her daring. 

"How does she look Deirdre?" Meka called from poolside. 

"Amazing," Deirdre said. "Can I have both spots?" 

"Spots on," Meka said. Both spots snapped on making Li's white dress shine a bright, white blue. 

"Too washed out," Deirdre complained.

"Spot two, defuse to just a glow" Meka ordered. David's spot went from sharp hot white to a cool soft glow.

"That's good," Deirdre called out. 

"Give us some dive poses, Li," Meka instructed. Li arched her back jutting out her firm chest, arms straight out at her sides with her head bent looking at her feet. 

"Hold that pose," Deirdre called out. 

At poolside, Meka's camera whirred noisily. 

"Okay," Deirdre called. 

"Pick your poses," Meka called out to Li. 

Not given instruction, I played it by ear and zoomed in on Li's upper half as she casually and gracefully pivoted at the end of the board with no fear of falling. The dress plunging severely in the back giving view to her well-toned back muscles. The clingy material of the dress accentuated her splendid athletic ass. 

"Can you dive in the dress?" Meka called out. "If not just say so and we can alter it. I don't want you to get hurt." 

"No problem, I just can't do anything fancy," Li said. 

"Deirdre, moved to Li's right side and set up there for the dive," Meka ordered. "Both spots wide spread. Gwen get the tripod for the digital and set right where you are. Spots, stay as you are and get ready to follow her down." When everyone was set Meka shouted, "On three! One ... two ... three!" 

The cameras whirred, Li put her arms over her head, bounced once at the end of the board, launching herself into the air with one knee up and the other leg parallel to her body. The big empty space echoed with the spring of the diving board. Out in space, Li's body folded in half; her hands touched her toes then she spun in a slow somersault as she dropped and then knifed into the water with her arms leading the way barely making a ripple. 

David whooped his approval, Brian let out a whistle and Cole clapped. Li surfaced causing the first the first real disturbance to the water's surface.

"Nothing fancy huh?" Deirdre said from the stands, echoing my very thoughts. 

"Check to see if all your jewelry's still there and stay in the pool." Meka ordered Li. "Deirdre come down to poolside." 

As I reloaded one of the color film cameras, I watched Li casually floating on her back with the white dress billowed around her.

Meka handed Deidre a camera with black and white film. "Shoot at will, Goth princess. You too Gwen."

"Hey, I wanna be a princess too," I joked as I fiddled with my camera. 

"Yeah, but De's the real thing," Meka said.

"Really? You Hawaiian royalty?" I asked Deidre.

"In a round about way," Meka said. "De can trace her blood back to Queen Liliuokalani."

"Shut the fuck up," Deidre said menacingly to Meka. 

Unperturbed by Deidre's threatening tone, Meka called out to Li, "Swim toward the ladder near me and get out." 

I looked at Deidre but it was clear that she was in no mood to speak of her interesting linage and I too chicken to ask. 

Meka, Deidre and I lined the edge of the pool near the ladder as, Li, In one smooth easy motion, knifed through the water toward us and the ladder. She gripped the ladder with both hands and pulled herself up and out of the pool. The wet cloth of the dress clung to her wonderful athletic form. She may as well have been naked for the wet material was totally translucent. The cameras flashed as Meka and Deirdre recorded Li's every move. The wet dress seriously hindered the girl's movement so she gripped the end of the dragging thing and twisted it in her hands to wring out some of the water. It was such a perfect spontaneous thing to do. On the peripheral, David and Brian creep in closer to watch, even Cole got off his bench to get a better look. 

"Remove the dress," Meka said nonchalantly. 

Li's expression went neutral and she froze. I held my breath wondering if she was about to back out. The practical side of me thought that she should walk away. Look what happened to that Olympic champion swimming guy who got into a shit load of trouble for just one bong hit. This posing nude will cost her big time when it gets out. 

Finally, Li found the steel, gripped the wet dress at the bottom hem and pulled it over her head exposing her naked ass. She quickly discovered though, that the wet dress wasn't coming off that way. I heard her laugh as she did a little goofy spin. Being the pros that they were, Deirdre and Meka photographed her exposed ass and sparse triangle of hair. Li smoothed the dress back down, and then slipped the top down to her waist exposing her firm pretty breasts. Her nipples were dark brown with small lighter brown areolas. 

With a lot of wiggling and shimmying that would make a professional stripper green with envy, she managed to shuck the wet garment and stood naked at the poolside. Meka made a spinning sign with one hand. Li did a pirouette exposing her perfect athletic ass, muscled back and legs for the cameras. 

"Go back to the board Li. Spots one hard and sharp, spot two soft and defused," Meka ordered.

"You bet," David said with a professional air. Brian on the other hand didn't seem to hear and stood frozen staring at Li. With a knowing grin, David slapped Brian's shoulder to get him moving. Cole walked over with a terrycloth robe, covered Li up and then checked her makeup and assessed her jewelery. 

"Let's switch," Meka said to Deirdre. "I'll do the long shots and you work poolside." Meka hefted camera with the telephoto lens and a tripod and headed for the stands. 

"So? Is she hot or what?" I asked Deirdre. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 05



"She's hot," Deirdre, said, "I hear she's of the sisterhood." 

I pretended not to understand. 

"You know? A Lesbian?" Deirdre said exaggerating lesbian like I was stupid. 

"Really?" I said thinking of my little sneak preview a few hours ago. Playfully I asked, "So you gonna hit that?" To my amazement, Deirdre blushed and looked away. 

"She's way out of my league," Deirdre said and busied herself with her camera to hide her embarrassment.

"Aren't you Hawaiian royalty? Maybe Li would like chasing a princess," I joked.

She gave me a look and at first I thought she was going to clobber me. Then a little smile touched her mouth. "Get the fuck otta here," she said. 

Meka shouted for everyone to get into position. At the base of the diving platform, Li shucked her robe and climbed up. Standing at the base of the ladder, I had an excellent view of her ascent. The chick had a hot bod from every possible angle no doubt about that. I took a couple shots and walked around when she reached the top. She walked out to the end of the diving board. After a few seconds of focus, she reached her arms over her head and stood on tiptoes causing her breasts to flatten and her thigh muscles to bunch and tighten. 

"I wanna do this only once," Meka called out. "Everybody ready?" She got yeses all around. To Li Meka said, "No somersaults, just up and in. On the count of three." 

Li nodded at the end of the board causing her and the board to wobble minutely.

"One ... two ... three!" 

Li bounced hard on the board, went airborne in a gravity-defying arc, straightened out and hit the water head down, hands first. 

Everyone whooped. 

When Li resurfaced, Meka shouted, "Stay in the water I'll be right down." 

I stood next to David and we watched Li do lazy laps. Meka joined us. 

Meka sighed. "I wish I though to bring an underwater camera for the shoot. Personally, I think that underwater nude photography has been way overdone to the point of cliché. But this girl would make it fresh and exciting again I bet." 

David left briefly, and then returned with a camera. 

"It a GoPro HD Hero Naked with waterproof removable polycarbonate housing." David said handing a sleek little white camera to Meka. 

"You dog," Meka said. 

David barely smiled, apparently he was accustomed at surprising people. Meka took the camera gingerly into her hands and shouted, "Li come out and let Cole check your make up. Then we're going sub aquatic."

Chapter 36 Mermaid 

Cole covered Li with a robe then gave her makeup a once over.

"Fuck," Meka hissed. "I can't get this gash in my leg wet. De's gonna have to do this one. De come over here." Deirdre ambled up to us. 

Hey, is that a Hero Naked?" Deirdre held her hands out and Meka handed her the camera. "Man," Deirdre said in awe as she studied the little camera. 

"You up to doing some underwater shots?" Meka asked Deirdre.

"I can't swim," Deidre said handing the camera back to Meka.

"What? You're Hawaiian and grew up in the islands," Meka said incredulously. "What you mean you can't swim?"

Deirdre shrugged. Meka turned to David.

"Inner ear injury, can't go underwater," David said. 

Meka rolled her eyes. She looked at Brain. "Can you handle a camera?"

Before Brain could answer I said, "I'll do it."

"I think Brain is a bit more tech savvy than an art major," Meka said dismissing my offer.

"How hard can it be?" I asked. 

Meka's opened her mouth to protest but I trumped her by pulling my shirt over my head and then quickly peeled off my jeans. My underwear was my usual mismatch set: the bra dark purple and the panties maroon with garish yellow tiger stripes. Fortunately, the bra was dark and should keep my nipples hidden even when wet ... I hoped. 

Li walked up to the knot of people at poolside. Her eyes took in my scantily clad form. She smiled and dropped her robe. I blushed at her nakedness because I new it was aimed specifically at me. Deirdre's brow furrowed as she caught the current flowing between Li to me.

"Okay then," Meka said, "Li, back in the water, Gwen will join you in a second." 

Li smiled at me, turned, walked to the edge of the pool with a slight sway of her hips that was subtle but unmistakable. Then she broke into a run and dove into the pool cutting the surface like a sharp knife through a ripe papaya. She didn't surface until she was more then halfway across the large pool. 

David gave me a quick rundown on the use of the camera. He seemed unperturbed by my near nakedness; I on the other hand, was totally perturbed and avoided his eyes during his instructions. Done with his tutorial, he gave me the same two finger salute he gave Meka earlier. I walked to the pools edge with the camera and Deirdre followed. 

"Li likes you," Deirdre said in a schoolyard taunt. 

"Nothing I can do about that," I said hoping to end the conversation. 

"You look great." she added with an unmistakable leer. 

Stupidly, I reddened even more as I headed to the metal ladder to ease myself into the water. For some reason, I was quite the babe magnet tonight. 

The water was chilly but not freezing. Steeling myself, I pushed away from the ladder and swam around to allow my body to acclimate. When my shivering subsided, I dunked my head under and gave the camera a once over. Li's naked body, tinted a ghostly bluish-white entered my field of vision. She floated over to me slowly; her short hair surrounded her head like an inky cloud. Free of the downward pull of gravity, her breasts formed round, perky mounds. I pointed a finger upwards and we both surfaced. 

"Just swim around me and I'll pick my shots." I said with chattering teeth.

Li nodded and dropped back down below the surface, I followed taking shots of her as she swam literal circles around me, doing the occasional slow motion acrobatic. I surface countless times for air, but Li didn't seem to need as much and stayed under longer. The girl must have gills hidden on her somewhere I mused. Li's circles grew tighter and several times she gratuitously brushed against me. To my dismay, I found myself sexually responding to her. 

I surfaced for air at the center of the pool and Li joined me. 

"You guys all right? We gotta be out in an hour." Meka called out. 

I was about to say that we had enough shots but Li spoke first. "Just a little while longer." In a quieter voice that only I could hear she said, "I wanna take a couple of shots of you." Without asking, she took the camera from my hands. 

Not sure I was on board, I gave her instructions on how to use the camera. "Near your right index finger is the shutter button, its soft and easy." 

"Right, soft and easy," Li repeated and dropped below the surface. I took a deep breath, dropped down and settled into a neat lotus position on the pool floor. Naked Li, floating front down with her legs up higher than her body giving me an interesting view of her curvy ass, snapped a picture. She swam in closer, took several more shots then we both went up for air ... well I needed to anyway and Li simply followed. 

Li tugged at my bra strap, "Lose the top." she said and immediately dropped below the surface not waiting for my reply. Tingling with excitement, I followed her down. She watched intently as I reached behind me and removed my maroon bar that looked black in the blue-green glow of the pool lights. At first, I held the bra in my hand reluctant to part with it, but not wanting to look chicken, I let it float from my hands and could only hope that it wouldn't drift too faraway. Li pointed the camera and snapped a shot. All too soon I had to surface for air. 

"Do the full Monty?" Li asked.

I shook my head in the negative then went back down and hovered suspended in my liquid world slowly spinning, trying to catch sight of my AWOL bra. Li swam a slow circle around me and snapped more shots. 

Then shockingly, the camera slipped from her hands. The thing fell in slow motion, and instinctively, I reached out to catch it. A weird sense of dejavue only more powerful, descended on me. As the weird feeling intensified, Li gripped my arm stopping me from catching the falling camera. For one brief bizarre moment I was looking up into the face of the wooden forest goddess on Maui. Then just like that I was in the pool looking into Li's face. 

Okay, these little weird flashes are starting to freak me out I thought more annoyed than dismayed. Li's hands traced the bottoms of my breasts and her right hand seized my left wrist and guided my hand to her right breast.

Can we worry about the hallucinations later? my lizard brain interjected. A totally hot Chinese lesbian chick is feeling you up right now!

Everything slowed to the pace of the liquid world surrounding me as Li moved in for a kiss. Our upper bodies pressed together. Her arms curled around me searching out my ass, caressing, then gripping it firmly. Then she snaked her right hand between us and it slipped it under the front edge if my panties. Her skilled fingers knew exactly where to go ... and what to do. 

I opened my eyes, not exactingly sure when I had closed them again. 

You're kissing a chick underwater the conservative, boring corner of my brain informed me. My eyes grew wide and the spell was rudely broken. My lungs screamed for air, I untangled herself and darted for the surface. A few long seconds later, Li joined me holding the camera in one hand and my bra in the other. 

"You straight girls are a pain in the ass," she said with a small smile. I took the bra from her and hurried to get it back on. 

"You guys all right?" Meka called out. 

"Clothing malfunction, Gwen lost her bra," Li said. 

"Need some help with that?" Deirdre asked suddenly at the pool's edge. 

"No," I said firmly and emphatically. 

"You sure?" Brian added materializing at Deirdre's side. Even restrained David had inched closer to the pool's edge. 

"We got it! Thanks anyway," I called out. 

As Li helped me hook my bra back on, I said, "You should ask Deirdre out."

"She's very pretty," Li said, "But she's royalty ... out of my league."

I laughed. "Try her and see what happens." 

We exited the pool. Cole handed Li a robe, she put it on and walked to the locker room. Meka gave me a towel and I slipped away to remove my wet underwear then put on my clothes forced to go full total commando. 

Back at poolside, I dried my hair and watched Meka slip Deirdre and Brian envelopes then Meka sat on a poolside concrete bench to line up the spent film for the count. The shots of me were on the card of the underwater camera which was now in David Tanaka's hands and there was nothing I could do about it. 

Dressed in her street clothes, Li walked out of the lady's locker room. She walked up to Deirdre and said a few words to her. Deirdre had that awkward look that shy males have when encountering a beautiful female. Li touched Deirdre's cheek, leaned in, and said something in her ear. I wondered if they were going to hook up? Li turned and walked my way. 

"Thanks for making this fun," Li said. 

"Um sure,' I said awkwardly.

Li leaned in, kissed my cheek then said, "Fucking straight girls." She smiled, turned and headed to the exit tunnel. I noted that Deirdre fell in behind her.

Chapter 37 Seven Dead Cats and psychoanalysis

With my head still jumbled from Li's photo shoot, I called Hawk to see if he was home. He was so I went straight to the dorm towers. I found him hunched at his desk grading student papers. 

"What up?" he asked without looking up.

"I kissed a girl," I said as I tossed my backpack on his bed. 

He looked up from his work and looked at me wide eyed. Now that I had his full attention, I sat down on the bed told him everything that happened to me today including my brief hallucinations in the pool just before Li kissed me. The only thing I left out was Li's name. Hawk pressured me to tell who I had kissed but I wouldn't relent. I had promised Meka I'd keep my mouth shut on that subject and kept my word.

"Did you Kiss Meka?" he asked, round eyed and full of interest.

I rolled my eyes at his one track mind and said, "Can we discuss my hallucinations please you fucking perv?"

"Have you had other such incidents?" he asked.

I told him everything including my recurring dreams about the short haired version of me. 

"Okay, I got a theory," he said. "Your body over produces endorphins in your brain when you're sexually aroused and that might bring on the hallucinations." 

"But they feel so real," I insisted, "I can smell things and feel things. In the dreams too." 

"I've read studies on how the human brain, in the right conditions, and especially under stress, can create super real audio, visual and sensual delusions." 

I can't say that I was too happy with him calling me delusional. Hawk wanted to hear more about the kiss, and to be honest, I wanted to talk about it too. But I knew he had to get his student papers graded for an early morning class. "We'll talk tomorrow," I said.

He groused but I left anyway. 

I thought I'd drop in on Matt, but remembered he was on a science stargazing thing for his astronomy class on the other side of the island. I could call Meka? I thought.

No, too early in our friendship to spring something like waking hallucinations on her. She was becoming a good friend and I didn't want to scare her away. 

Then bizarrely, I thought of Paul Gleason. Why the hell not? He already knows I'm a little crazy and he's still hanging around.

It's because he wants to fuck you my logical brain inserted. 

Maybe, I concurred, but he's certainly been a gentleman about it even after my exhibitionism at the gallery. In fact he's hardly breathed a word about it. I looked at the time on my cell phone and was surprised it was only eight thirty. The on campus bar, the Manoa Garden will be open for another hour. I sent a text to Paul to see were he was. He text back that he was at the art building working. 

Ten minutes later, I fond Paul in the sculpture metal shop working on one of his found object pieces. It involved a rusty tire pump, some plastic apples, a rolled up newspaper and a pair of beach slippers absurdly cast in bronze. For a few seconds I watched him attempt to glue the apples to the tire pump making the thing look like a rusted penis. Unable to watch him work on the ugly thing another second, I cleared my throat to get his attention. 

"Hey painter girl," he said happy to see me.

"We have about forty five minutes to last call," I said, "you wanna keep working on this master piece or drink beer with me at the gardens? I'll pay." 

"Beer!" he declared allowing his poorly glued apple testicle to drop.

At the gardens, halfway through a pint of Addams Dark, I broached the subject of my exhibitionism. "I'm kind of insulted you been so quiet about the the thing at the art gallery."

"Two main reasons, " He said as he traced the condensation circles left behind by our pints of beer on the concrete table with a finger. "First, I'm sure that Matt didn't know I was out their." He looked into my eyes for confirmation.

I gave him a tiny nod. "You have a thing for me," I said bluntly. "You could have used the situation to make a move or something. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did."

"Second and third reasons," he said. "I'm friends with both your lovers. I don't make moves on a friend's girl. Besides, I like you as a friend and no matter how much I wanna fuck you, losing your friendship is too high a price pay." He punctuated that sentence with one of his patented New Yorker shrugs.

So taken aback by his blunt honesty, I found myself close to tears. At that very moment, I officially put him in the best friend category along with Meka. Since I sadly knew so very little about him, I decided it was time to fill the gaps.

"Where did you do your undergrad work?"

"NYU."

"How's the art department at New York University?"

"Great from what I saw," he said sounding oddly guilty.

"What do you mean?"

"I was a psych major back then."

"Really?" I said with raised eyebrows. "You weren't an art major?"

"You Japanese chicks are too polite to state the obvious," he said with a cooked smile. "My work sucks and you know it."

I politely changed the subject slightly to get an answer to a burning question.

"How did you get accepted as a grad here if you weren't an art major?"

"Seven dead cats," he stated as if I knew what he was talking about. 

I shrugged and gave him a bewildered look.

"You uncultured swine!" he teased. "Hey you," Paul said to a local guy sitting at a table nearby working on his laptop. "Can you Google seven dead cats, New York, art for me?" Miraculously, the guy didn't call Paul's a rude prick and did his bidding. Paul and I got up and sat at the guy's table to see the screen. "Click on that," Paul instructed pointing at a site half way down the page.

Seven images of what looked like mummified cats appeared on the screen, each in a different pose, each mounted on an elegant honey wood pedestal.

"Those are my cats," Paul said, "There's a brass plaque assigning each a deadly sin from the bible." He pointed at a particularly grotesque blotted dead cat. Laptop guy clicked on it. Close up it was even worse.

Paul said. "I used the old Latin word for gluttony, Abdomen. All the titles are in old Latin."

"Did you kill these cats?" I asked worried that he had.

"Hey what you think I am?" Paul asked taking offense. "I found them like that."

Laptop guy and I gave him a dubious look. 

"It's true. Back in New York my dad is one of those guys that cleans up after crime scenes, suicides, accidental deaths, stuff like that. When things got busy he would hire me on as extra help. The work was sickening but the money was good. Anyway, the cats came from a suicide scene. Some old lady poisoned her nine cats then offed herself. No one found her or the cats for over a years. In the sealed apartment with no air conditioning, she and her pets mummified over time. As I helped my dad clean up the mess I got a wild hair up my ass. I took the dead cats and made them into art pieces. The cats won me national acclaim. Sold em for a good sum too."

I thanked laptop guy and we returned to our table and ordered a second round, I had one sent to laptop guy too.

"It was the only thing in my portfolio, but I guess it was enough to get me accepted in the Honolulu U. grad program," Paul said. "I think the grad review is regretting their decision though."

I didn't want to have to say how much I agreed so I changed the subject.

"You were a psych major? Really?" 

"Really. Jungian, Freudian, the new stuff. Studied it all."

"Maybe you can help then," I said cheerfully. "I have this friend who's having sexual issues."

Paul leveled his eyes at me and said point blank, "You asked me to watch you blow one of your two boyfriends Gwen."

"Okay, I have these sexual issues," I corrected.

For the next hour I filled him in on my relationship with Hawk and Matt. I even told him about Li Hong but left Li's name out to protect her privacy. Since I was on a roll, I told about Shelly's New dance and the paintings it inspired and how that led to the vivid sexual dreams and hallucinations.

Paul listened quietly during my telling. When I stopped, he dramatically dropped his face into his hands and let out a huge mock sob.

"You are making it impossible to remain just your friend," he said into his hands. He sat up and said, "Okay, I can deal with this. I can be objective. Go on."

"Lately I've been having strange out of body experiences during orgasm."

"Oh-my-God," he said burying his face again.

"What kind psychologist you?" I said in thick local pidgin restraining a laugh. 

"A horny confused one," he said weakly.




Naked Portraits Pt. 05



"Come on. I need you to listen," I said trying to be serious.

He stopped goofing and listened as I told of my out of body experiences.

"So? Do you think I'm crazy?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I thought that before all this," he said to be funny. 

"Stay serious," I insisted with a little whine.

"Okay, okay. You said this all began after the break up with your best friend, that Betty Nagata chick?"

"Yes ... and no," I said thinking of the line up of events for the first time. "My first memorable dream was on the day that triggered the break up with Betty. Betty and I were still friends. We would split weeks later."

"So something else on that day must have triggered things. List anything odd," Paul said.

"I posed nude for a painting with a tall hot redhead named Venus and Betty painted us. I discovered a box of porn movies at Betty's party. Because of the pron, I went on line to research facial cumshots where I discovered some guy named Peter North and watched hours of vids of him ejaculating on girl's faces. After that I simulated my own facial cumshot and boy was that a disaster."

Paul looked at me, blinked several times then dropped his head in his hands again.

"I'm so fucking horny," he whispered with another mock sob ... although it sounded almost real this time.

"Stop it this is serious," I said, but couldn't help laughing a little too for all sounded so absurd.

"All right, all right," he said looking up again. "That first thing has got to be it, that posing nude with the goddess chick."

"Her name just happen to be Venus, she was no goddess," I corrected.

"So she was ugly?"

"No she was beautiful just not a goddess."

"So you decided that you where going to pose naked for a portrait earlier in the day with a hot redhead for your friend Betty?" 

"No it kinda sorta happened," I said remembering how it all came together. "I was alone working on a painting of the Venus chick."

"You had arranged for Venus to pose that day?" Paul asked.

"No. We were alone because the air conditioner had broken down and the class was canceled. I wasn't officially in the figure painting class so I didn't get the email. Venus was a replacement on that day so she didn't get the cancellation notice either. She didn't seem to care that I was the only one there so I went to work. Betty showed up just as I got started."

"Betty always hang out to watch you paint?"

"No," I said. "That was weird. It was kind of out of the blue?"

"So just like that you got up and posed naked for Betty so she could paint and the Venus chick?" Paul asked.

"No, I had started my paint the week before with a different model and had made the decision to continue working using Venus. The painting basically sucked. At one point Betty just pushed her way in and took over the painting."

"And right after that you posed naked for her?"

I shook my head. "I know you'll find this hard to believe but there was a time in my life that I wasn't so adventurous about getting naked. But Betty had this amazing ability to make me do the most stupid things just by calling me chicken."

"I had a friend named Nero," Paul said with a nod. "You could make him do fuckin' anything if you call him chicken."

"I'm not that bad. Only Betty had that power over me. Anyway, there I was posing naked and who should step in but Hawk."

"What's so crazy about that?" Paul asked.

"At the time, Hawk was dating Betty and a total stranger to me."

"Whoa!, Really?" Paul asked. "That whole thing must have blown your mind."

"Fuck yeah," I said.

It was nearing ten in the evening and the bartender shouted for last call. The campus bar always shuts down at ten. 

"What happened to the painting?" Paul asked.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "Betty must have it." I thought for a second and said, "Or dose she?" Thinking back, I remember distinctly teller her to put my painting stuff away. If she didn't take the painting home she would have left it in the figure studio's painting rack. I looked at Paul and said wide eyed, "Is it possible that it's still sitting there?"

"Guess we can check it out tomorrow," Paul said.

"Let's go," I said to Paul and grabbed my backpack. 

"Aren't we gonna have last call?" he asked bewildered.

Chapter 38 Betty's Painting

I didn't answer, paid the bill with the money I had earned from Meka and then headed to the art building at a fast clip. We stood outside the figure painting studio's door on the third floor.

"You gonna pose naked for me?" Paul asked like he was joking but I could tell there was a hint of hope in there.

"In your dreams," I told him.

Paul tried the door and of course it was locked. "Should have stayed for last call."

"I have my own private studio so I don't use the classrooms too often," I said. "But if I need to, there's a community key in locker twenty two?" 

I led Paul down to the end of the corridor to a bank of lockers. At locker number twenty two, I dailed the numbers on an old beat up combination lock. 22, 22, 22. In the locker was a single item and I pulled it out. "The gate to painter's country," I said dangling a key attached to a roughly carved wooden human ear.

"Why the ear?" Paul asked.

"Van Gogh the paint departments patron saint." 

I led Paul back to the figure painting studio.

"You think your friend's painting is still in there after all these months?" Paul asked as I turned the lock.

"Don't know"

We entered the dark room. I didn't use any of the overhead lights and turned on just one spotlight focused on the posing platform. It gave off enough glow to blanket the large room in weak yellow light.

"Is it okay for us to be here," Paul asked seeing my caution.

"Yeah ... well no. You have to sign up to use a studio after hours a day in advance and then you have to call campus security to tell them how long you'll be here. We're here for just a quick look so no need to call in the rent-a-cops."

Paul shrugged, apparently unperturbed about breaking the rules.

I stared at the empty posing platform. "I stood up there with naked, tall, freckled Venus," I said, compelled to reconstruct the scene for Paul. I pointed to a spot in the center of the room. "Betty, in her black skimpy bra and boy-short panties stood behind an easel right here."

"Your friend was almost naked too?" Paul asked with interest.

"The air conditioner was down and it was hot," I said absently. I walked to the painting rack at the back of the room and pulled out the painting from slot number two, the one I used back then. It was a nude of a guy. 

"Not here," I said disappointed.

"You'd make a shitty detective," Paul said and started looking in rack number one. "There ain't no name tags just numbers. Betty may have used any of theses slots."

"Maybe," I said as my disappointment turning to excitement again. I started searching at the end of the rack starting with slot number thirty.

"Bingo!" Paul yelled at rack number eleven eleven. 

He walked the twenty four by thirty six inch painting to the posing platform and leaned it against a stool in the pool of light. Venus stood on the left, me on the right, both figures close, almost touching and looking out at the viewer. The candy apple red Volkswagen Carman Ghia dominated the background then came the deep olive pensive forest and finally the turbulent blue sky.

"This isn't possible," I whispered with my heart in my throat.

"Nobody ever cleans out these painting racks I bet," Paul said, "There's probably shit going back years."

"No, I mean the painting, it's wrong," I said with my heart in my throat.

"This ain't the one?" 

"It is!" I said impatiently. "but Betty must have changed it."

"How?"

"That is the short haired version of me I've been seeing in my dreams," I said.

"Well, there you go," Paul stated. "Now you know where that's coming from."

I looked at Paul my eyes wide with fear and close to tears. Barely above a whisper, I said, "Paul, the last time I saw this painting, that naked portrait of me had long hair." I grabbed a handful of of my long brown hair for emphasis. "Betty changed it." 

"So what?" Paul asked, confused by my apparent dismay. 

I looked back at the painting still gripping a hand full on my hair. "How could Betty have possibly painted this short-haired version of me when she only exists in my dreams?"

***

"You sure you wanna drink this?" Paul asked as he handed me a paper cup. 

I took the cup and swallowed the shot of vodka. We had come to Paul's grad studio because of the vodka. As I made a face of disgust, I looked around Paul's studio at the assorted sculptures in various stages of completeness. A piece consisting of a dog's food bowl and a computer mother board occupied his work table like a invading foreign army. He certainly has shot his wad with the dead cats I thought.

"You sure you never laid eyes on this painting until now?" Paul asked. We had brought Betty's painting with us and it leaned against Paul's studio door.

"Not this version of it."

"This short hair chick, you don't know her?"

"I told you, only in my dreams," I said as I eyed the vodka bottle resting next to the computerized dog bowl. Paul took the hint and poured me another shot.

"You ever had hair short like that?" 

"Never in my life even as a kid," I said with a weak vodka burnt throat.

"What about your friend Betty?"

"Same, always long." I frowned at his line of questions. "You think that this short haired version of me is some kind of manifestation of my longing for my ex-friend?"

"You said it not me."

"Don't pull psychology crap on me!" I snapped.

He shrugged, unruffled. "You said that your world changed starting with this painting."

I nodded. "Sorry I snapped at you." 

"You kiddin'? I'm from new York. That was polite conversation." He splashed vodka into a paper cup for himself, drink it without flinching and kept right on talking. "The way I see it everything is linked: this painting, your break up with your best friend, hooking up with Hawk, you painting nudes, the dreams, the hallucinations and the ... " he paused for a second apparently looking for words. "Sexual promiscuity," he finally said.

"None of that explains why or how Betty painted this chick I see only in my dreams," I reminded him.

"Is there anyway you saw this version of the painting and somehow forgot?"

"You asking if I'm crazy or asking if I'm lying?"

He proved too smart to answer that question and instead steered the conversation to a different place. "Wanna have a look at how you dream?" he asked.

"What you mean?" I asked suspicious. I shook my cup at him hinting that I wanted another shot. He gave me a disapproving look but splashed a half inch in my cup.

"I saw on line that the psych department is looking for people to participate in a dream study," he said.

I gave him a dubious look then knocked back the vodka. I cringed, shivered and made several yucky faces. "They gonna open my head and look inside?" I asked with a raspy voice.

"They don't dissect people at Psychology, dufus," he said. "They hook you up to a machine to see what your brain is doing when you dream. Then they wake you up and ask you to write down what you were dreaming. They pay if you get accepted in the study."

"They pay? How much," I asked now interested.

"A hundred to three hundred a session depending I think." 

"They pay you three hundred dollars to sleep?" I asked incredulously.

"Sounds like slacker heaven. All we gotta do now is find someone to pay us to drink," Paul said with a smile. I"ll sign up with you if you like."

"Maybe. I'll check it out," I said absently as I picked up Betty's painting and stood. Paul got up and held the door for me. "Thanks for listening to my craziness," I said.

"Why don't you thank me for breathing," he joked.

"Thanks for breathing," I said seriously and kissed his cheek.



Naked Portraits Pt. 06



Hello again Literotica reader and welcome to part six. First a few notes on part five. The real person Li Hong was based on really did do a nude photo shoot that found its way to the net. She lost millions in endorsement because of it. 

There was a photo of Paul Gleason's seven dead cats on the flash drive. Really creepy stuff. There was nothing sexy about it so I won't post it here at Literotica. 

My friend and editor Boston found the painting he thinks is of Gwen Yoshimura and redhead Venus on line. He sent me the link. I'm sure that it's the painting in my story. An old candy apple red Volkswagen Karmman Ghia separates the two figures. The Asian girl depicted has short, reddish brown hair. It's not my painting so I can't post it. Sorry. See you again in part seven.  

**********

Chapter 39 Dreams of Me

In the shitty dim glow provided by a nightlight plugged in a light socket in the far wall, I lay wide awake staring at unfamiliar ceiling tiles. 

"I'm not ever going to fall asleep," I groused. 

In frustration, I rolled over in the strange bed to stare at a strange plain black door. 

If I were with Hawk or Matt ... or both ... I'd already be comfortably asleep.

No ... you'd be screwing around, my lizard brain interjected.

True, but at least I'd be asleep at some point. After sex I slept like the dead. My eyes traveled to the upper corners of the room to the video cameras mounted on tripods pointed at the bed. The sight of them pushed sleep even further away. I tugged at my t-shirt to make sure I was properly covered. For comfort's sake, the psych grad in charge advised me that I should dress for bed in my usual mode. 

Yeah right. 

My usual sleeping attire was just panties and wouldn't that be great for all theses cameras? Tonight, I wore a long-sleeved t-shirt with Van Gogh's Starry Night depicted on the front and light cotton, gray sweat pants with a drawstring. I bought my new sleep clothes the day before just for tonight. The room turned out to be a little chilly so long sleeves and sweat pants turned out to be a good idea. I rolled onto my back. My eyes kept flickering from one camera to the next. 

Why don't you masturbate? Lizard brain suggested. You'll fall asleep right after.

NO! my more logical half interceded.

This one time, I agreed with Miss Logic. Aside from the fact that masturbating in this situation was totally unthinkable, the strange bed, sterile room and cold soulless cameras didn't put me in the mood whatsoever. And for those same reasons, I couldn't get to sleep.

I was told that if I got thirsty, I could go down to the end of the hall to get something to drink from a mini fridge stocked with water, caffeine free soft drinks and juice. The grad in charge of the sleep shift warned that I wasn't allowed beyond the little kitchenette where the fridge was because the wireless sticky sensors tacked to my forehead, chest and right wrist would lose contact with the computer that kept track of my vitals. The sensors were another thing keeping me awake. Thinking of the them made the skin where they were stuck itch. 

Three beers would put me down just fine, I thought. But I had read the part in the instructions about drinking or using drugs. If I had shown up with either in my system I'd be disqualified as a test subject. I needed this money, a cool two hundred fifty bucks, so I followed the rules. Stupid Paul didn't. He had smoked some pot last night and got his ass kicked off the project. "Who knew they would make us pee in a cup?" he complained on the way out.

Unable to take it any longer, I got out of bed to go get a soda. The light in the hall beyond my room seemed excessively bright. My eyes ache and I had to put a hand to my brow to shield them as I walked to the little kitchenette. I opened the little fridge and selected a mini four ounce can of ginger ale and drank it all down in one long draw. After tossing the can onto the recycle bin, I made my way back to my room. I yawned on the way back relieved to see the first signs off sleepiness. Weirdly, the lights overhead seemed to have gotten brighter.

"What the fuck is up with these light?" I complained aloud as I squinted to the point of almost shutting my eyes. 

Near blind, I fumbled for the doorknob to my room and slipped in quickly, glad to be back in the dim space away from the stupid bright lights. A second yawn hit. I was close to dropping as I stepped toward the bed. Then I stopped and let out a yelp of surprise. Someone sat on the bed looking at me. 

"Sorry, I have the wrong room," I said groggily. The bright lights outside must have confused me. I turned to leave and yelped again. Some chick was blocking my way. She looked right at me wide eyed and surprised. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that I was looking in a mirror. Then I realized that it wasn't just any mirror, it was the one on the back of Hawk's dorm room door. Reflected behind me was Hawk, wrapped in a blanket, sound asleep in his bed with my painting of Shelly looming on the wall above him. On the opposite dorm room bed sat a woman. 

I was so fucking sleepy that it was hard to gather my thoughts. "Did I just step through the mirror?" I asked thinking that it was a logical possibility.

The seated woman laughed musically. "Hello Alice," she said.

I turned to face her just as she clicked on the reading lamp attached to the wall at the head of the bed. Instantly, I shielded my eyes from the unusually strong light.

"Sorry Alice," the figure said and bent the goose neck lamp down to dampen the light.

"My name's Gwen," I corrected.

"I know lolo. I'm just joking with you."

I wasn't surprised at all to see that the seated figure was the short hair version of me from Betty's painting ... and my dreams. 

"Looks like I fell asleep after all," I said. The word sleep made my eyes want to close, but with heroic effort, I managed to kept them open. The other me sat cross-legged on the bed. She wore a satiny black bra and matching panties. "This proves that I"m dreaming," I said. "My underwear never matches." The other me laughed, I liked the sound of her laugh, it was sexy and friendly ... "Do I laugh like that?" I asked her.

Short-haired me stood up from the bed. I admired her toned athletic body.

"I've been working out too," I said proudly.

It was true. Hawk bought me a membership at the Waikiki Sunset Gym. I've even taken to running with him every now and then too. I pulled my meandering mind back into focus as best I could. 

"You look so athletic," I complemented.

"You have a nice figure too," she said returning the complement. "You look like a dancer."

"Like in 'Shelly New Dance'?" I asked.

Short-hair me nodded and said, "She's fucked up but actually quite likeable."

"That's what Jade Tama said," I said sleepily. 

Automatically, my eyes went to the painting of Shelly over Hawk's bed. Then I started to sway and spin on the spot like a ballerina, although I've never taken ballerina lessons in my life. 

The other me laughed and started dancing too. 

The part of me that still clung to the straws of reality, begged me to ask this other me how Betty had come to paint her into the portrait. Of course that didn't happen; I was having too much fun dancing. I looked at the swaying other me in her sexy matching black bra and panties. She spun in a delicate circle. I did the same. A Billy Idol song floated in my head.

"Look ... I'm dancing with myself," I said sharing the joke.

"It's Hawk's birthday," short hair said. "Wanna give him a cool present that will blow his mind?" 

"Okay," I said.

Other me danced over to Hawk's bed. She sat on the edge and roughly shook his shoulder.

"Go away you succubus," Hawk said groggily. "I have to get up early."

"You always have to get up early," she said and kept shaking him. 

He refused to budge so she grabbed the light blanket covering him and pulled it away exposing his naked body surrounded by a purplish sheet, dusty mauve would be a good name for the color, I thought pointlessly with my sleepy brain. My eyes went to the semi erection twitching on his stomach. Without being asked, I sat on the bed too and took Hawk's growing erection into my hands. Instantly, he went from semi to full at my touch.

"Aw man, this just ain't fair," he grumbled with his eyes still closed. "What is it with you Japanee girl? How is this possible? I fucked you twice tonight and yet here I'm up again?"

"Like you said, I'm a succubus," I said. 

To prove the the point, I bent my head and took him into my mouth. I could taste me ... no wait, that would be short hair me, the real me is asleep in a strange room at the dream study.

Hawk said something but in my sleepy-eyed state I didn't catch it. He tried to pull away from me, but I held my ground, or more accurately, I held his dick. A gentle hand squeeze my shoulder, I stopped and let Hawk's erection fall from my mouth and looked up into the face of short-hair me. 

"He wants to fuck you," she said as she coaxed me to my feet. Facing me, she put her hands at my hips, I raised my arms over my head and she pulled the Starry Night shirt off me. Absurdly, she sung a few versus from Don Mclean's 'Vincent.'

"Betty loves that song," I said foggily.

She undid the drawstring on my sweats, put her hands at my hips and dropped the sweats to the floor exposing my red panties with sunflowers on them.

"Going for the full Van Gogh I see," she said with a crooked smile. 

I liked the smile; it was cute and sexy. "Do I smile that way?" I asked Hawk. 

My eyes fell on Hawk's long naked body surrounded by dusty mauve. I looked into his face, his sun streaked blond hair a mess, a day's growth of beard adorned his cheeks and chin, an expression of wonder etched his features.

"You've seen me topless a gagillion times," I said puzzled, but pleased by the look of desire on his face. Sitting on the edge of the bed again, I touched his cheek enjoying the roughness of the reddish stubble. He caressing my hand that touched his sweet face.

My eyes fell on the electronic sensor stuck to the wrist of my extended hand. "Sorry about these," I said as I looked down and touched the round sensor near my heart, and then the ones on my forehead. 

"I think their lovely," short hair said softly as Hawk's fingers brushed the sensor on my wrist.

My eyes slid down to his erect penis stretched across his midsection. My sun flower panties were gone and I wondered lazily what had become of them as I crawled on top of Hawk. I gripped his erection. And like I've done countless times before, pierced myself with his hardness.

I gasped several sharp breaths as I slowly took him all in. "This never gets old," I told him.

The other me sat on the edge of the bed to watch.

"Watching is Hawk's thing," I felt compelled to tell her. I gasped as Hawk started moving under me.

"You heard the girl, get naked so I can watch," Hawk said to the other me.

With her cute crooked smile, she removed her bra then lifted herself to her knees and slid down the panties. Her bush was a nicely trimmed, pleasing black triangle. For no apparent reason I thought of Li Hong the Olympic diving champion from Maui.

"I kissed Li Hong," I said pointlessly. 

Short hair moved up and bent to kiss Hawk. As their mouths met he gave a rough upward push with his hips. I tilted my head and mimicked their kiss with my mouth, and then my eyes dropped closed as heavy sleep threatened ... 

... Hawk's tongue felt warm and silky as he explored my mouth. I willed my eyes to open and sat back to look into his handsome face. He looked back at me with hot desire and ... awe? I turned my head to watch the other me roll her hips, her eyes were closed, the sheer pleasure on her face apparent, the sensors on her forehead and chest made the scene seem like something out of a science-fiction movie adding a strange funky thrill. I liked the way her long hair fanned over her shoulders as she bobbed up and down. Even with her small breasts, there was a pleasing little bounce. A sudden intense longing for my hair to be long again washed over me. With a frown, I brushed my fingers through my short boyish hair. With thumb and index finger, I pinched the hair at my bangs and passed it before my eyes to inspect the reddish brown color. I got up and walked to Hawk's dressing mirror on the back of the door to inspect my short hair.

I certainly look good, I thought. My eyes dropped to my neatly trimmed pubic area and delicately traced the boundaries with the fingers of both hands. Over my shoulder In the mirror, I saw long hair me rocking frantically. Hawk's eyes were wide open watching her sway above him. His eyes turned to me and fixed on my toned backside. I turned and walked toward the bed enjoying the twinkle of pure lust in his eyes as I advanced. 

Knowing my own body signs well, I said, "She's coming."

I sat on the edge of the bed and right on cue, longhair froze in position. She let out a gasp followed by tiny aggressive bucks of her hips. Hawk's hands covered her breasts, her hands covered his holding them in place. Insanely, I felt the unmistakable edge of an orgasm building in me too. "Oh my!" I gasped and closed my eyes. 

A pointless memory of an old TV commercial filled my head. An Asian girl in a black bra and panties lay on her side on a bed playfully wrestled with some guy. The girl cringes and turns her face towards the camera as a column of water smacks her whole in the face. I don't remember what product the commercial was selling. My hands gripped my small b-cups and unexpectedly, I encounter Hawk's hands already there ... 

... with my chest heaving from excursion, my eyes flutter open. Short hair sat at the head of the bed with her eyes closed gripping her breasts. "Fuck me," she said through clenched teeth.

"Me?" I asked confused and sleepy.

"No! Him!" she barked.

Hawk coaxed me off him. In sleepy slow motion, I got up and sat on the other bed just a couple of feet away. I grabbed a handful of my long hair and inspected it like a hippy chick high on LSD. Beyond my fist full of hair I saw short hair get on her hands and knees on the dorm bed and Hawk enter her roughly from behind. They quickly got up to speed. For a few seconds, he held a hand full of her short hair, pulling her head back, then she slipped his grasp and her head bowed low to the bed. 

"If your hair was longer that would be easier," I said. 

"Shut up," short hair hissed with her head low and her ass up high. Hawk went at her fast and hard and she met every thrust with a grunt and a cuss. "Fuck me! Fuck this dirty Japanese bitch! Make me cum! Make me scream for big white dick!" 

I laughed, I was never into dirty talk and it sounded so strange coming out of the other me. Then out of the blue, without being touched, the beginning stages of an orgasm built in me. "That's odd," I said with a hitch in my voice. Suddenly, talking dirty seemed like a hot thing to do. I thought of my night with Kira and Emiko and in Japanese I said,. "You like his big dick in you you bitch?"

Short hair shouted back in Japanese, "Yes!"

I got up and stood over them. "He loves fucking Asian chicks like you!"

"Don't stop!" she begged.

"Him or the dirty talk?" I asked giddy and sleepy all at once. 

"Both!...Both!" she insisted in Japanese.

"He should treat you like a chick in a porn flick."

"Yes...like...a porn flick..."

"Beg him to cum on your face!" I demanded.

"Cum on my face," she said in Japanese as she raised her face off the bed.

I grabbed a hand full of her short hair and pulled her head back. "In English!"

"Cum on my face Hawk! I want you to cum on my face!" she yelled in English. 

Hawk pulled out of her, I let go of her hair, she dropped on the bed onto her back and he straddled her chest. Feeling wickedly dirty, I gripped his shiny wet erection making sure it was aimed at her properly. Seconds later, I watched five long ropes of jizz spray onto her beautiful Japanese face. 

Slowly stroking Hawk's wet twitching member, I said in English, "You are one fucked up chick."

Short hair laughed and slapped at Hawk's thighs. I released him and stood up from the bed. Hawk got off of her and stood next to me. Then, standing right there, my orgasm hit me like a velvet wrecking ball. My hands dropped between my legs and I shut my eyes ... 

... the warmth on my face felt distinctly foreign and I hesitated to move not wanting it to get it anywhere else on me. I opened my eyes and looked at long hair with her hands at her crotch. She canted to her right and would have gone down if Hawk hadn't grabbed her around the waist. 

"That was neat," long hair said with a goofy laugh, her eyes barely open. 

I sat up gingerly and there was nothing I could do to prevent the cooling liquid on my face from getting to other parts of me. Most landed on my thighs and breasts. For no reason, I felt compelled to look at the painting of Shelly over the bed. But the painting was replaced by Betty's portrait of Venus and me. Oddly, my face in the painting was covered in jizz. I shifted to my knees on the bed and knelt face to face with my image in the painting. She smiled and I screamed!

I sat up in the bed at the psych sleep lab. My hands went to my face and I screamed again when they came away wet. But I calmed a bit when I saw that it was just sweat from my forehead. Next, I grabbed at my hair and sighed with relief when I saw that it was long and brown. 

Impossibly thirsty, I left the room to get something to drink. I braced myself for the bright lights in the hall but they were tolerable, in fact, the hall was quite dim, almost dark. The bright light must have been part of the dream. At the little kitchenette, I sucked down the three remaining tiny ginger ales, one after another wishing they were beers. The sodas quenched my thirst but now I was super hungry. 

I went back to my room, peeked in cautiously half expecting to see short hair me sitting on the bed. Thankfully she wasn't there. With a sigh of relief, I slipped into the room. I sat on the bed and looked at the tiny voice recording device on the nightstand. Part of the deal was for me to record my dreams in detail the moment I awoke. It stressed me out at how pornographic the dream had been and the thought of sharing it with a bunch of science geeks embarrassed to no end. But I had accepted money for this gig plus I had hopes of getting some help from the program. I picked up the recording devise, took a deep breath and in explicit detail documented my dream. 

When I was done with the recording, I decided to bail. I changed out of my sleeping clothes to my street clothes, stuffed everything in my backpack and walked the recording to the head nightshirt grad. I told her I was done for the night and wanted to go home. 

"Your readings were off the chart," the psych grad said looking at a computer screen. "You must have been dreaming up a storm."

"Yeah a storm," I said and hoped that she wouldn't listen to the recording of my dream until later. Another grad removed the sensors from my forehead. Anxious to get out, I said that that I would remove the other sensors myself at home because I didn't want to miss the last bus out to Waikiki. It was a total lie, the buses to Waikiki ran all night. 

The head grad offered to call campus security to escort me to the bus stop. I told her no need, the way was well lit and I'd be fine. On the way out, my stomach rumble. Across the street from the bus stop on University Avenue is a Burger King. From psych, I made a beeline to the restaurant and ordered a meal that would have made a sumo wrestler wobble. Incredibly, I consumed three whoppers, two large orders of curly fries and washed it all down with a large drink. As I got a second refill on my soda, I contemplated ordering something from the dessert menu. I quickly changed my mind when I saw that the people at the counter were staring at me and they all saw the sensor stuck to my right wrist. They probably thought I was an escapee from a psych ward ... and in a way ... I was. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 06



With just my drink refill, I left the restaurant. I had several instant ramen noodle cups at my studio on campus so I crossed University Avenue and headed to the art department.

********** 

After three cup-o-noodles I was in the mood to paint. Hours later, I dropped into my ratty loveseat in my grubby studio to look at my latest painting. It was of me from my dream. In the painting I sit nude, cross legged looking straight out at the viewer on a plain bed covered with a mauve sheet.

"Dusty mauve," I whispered liking the way the words rolled off my tongue. I remembered the color vividly from the dream and spent time getting it right. My long blackish brown hair fans over my shoulders, my skin creamy pale, two circular sensors decorate my forehead, another high on my left breast. The background is inky black, deep and fathomless.

"Dreams of Me," I titled her aloud.

Still in the mood to work, I fished out a small sixteen by twenty canvas, just big enough for a face. I put my oil paints aside and fished out my acrylic paints and got to work. A couple of hours later I was done. It was a portrait of me, more accurately, short haired me from the dream. Her expression serious and neutral, no sensors adorned her face. I took special care to get her short red-brown hair just right. 

"You are not done yet," I said.

A guilty thrill gripped me as I recalled the nasty things I had done and said to her in the dream. 

I rummaged through my paint box and found an old beat up tube of Chinese-white watercolor paint. I squeezed most of it onto my pallet and with a brush loaded with water, I made a runny white pool. With my dripping brush, I stood before the paining. Then aggressively, I flicked the loaded brush at the face smacking her under the left eye near the nose. "Cum on her face, Hawk?" I said holding the brush at crotch level like it was a hard dick. Dark satisfaction bloomed in me watching the white runny paint drip down her cheek and over her pretty mouth.

The dark lust dissipated quickly, replaced by shamefaced guilt. I tossed the brush aside, soaked a paper towel with water and cleaned away the mess from short hair's face. The acrylics are permanent when dry so the portrait was unaffected by the water soluble paint or wet towel. 

"You need some serious therapy Japanee girl," my logical brain informed me.



Naked Portraits Pt. 07



Notes from the author:

Hello Literotica reader and welcome to Part 7. Part six was the smallest installment and a bit off the beaten track. My editor, Boston, advised me to leave it out because he thought that it didn't add to Gwen's narrative. But there were so many notes from her dream sessions on the flash drive that I felt that I couldn't ignore it so I left it in. To be honest, I grew attached to the scene because Gwen's actual voice appeared on the drive that one and only time. Anyway, in part 7, we return to the flow of Gwen Yoshimura's life in the company of the beautify and mysterious Meka Okuda. Enjoy. 

********** 

Chapter 40 A Sign From the Goddess

"Why do we need to be up so early?" I whined in the passenger seat of Meka Okuda's green Volvo. The traffic was light, in fact it felt like we were the only car on Hawaii Inter State one which was kind of surreal. 

"Because, you lazy ass artist," Meka said, "it's gonna take us most the day to get to the photo site. If you like, I can turn around and take you back to Waikiki?"

"Can't. I've already spent the money you gave me on drugs and cheap man whores. And besides both my lovers picked this weekend to be out of town."

"Good. That poor pussy of yours could use the rest," Meka said.

I gave her the finger 

"Can we get a cup of coffee at the airport to jump start my brain please?" I asked in the most whinny annoying voice I could conjure.

"No time, we'll get some on Maui," Meka answered sounding like an annoyed parent. 

"They'll serve coffee on the plane," I reasoned totally cranky and discontented. 

A week ago Meka had approached me to help in another photo shoot. Aside from my meager work study checks and selling my brain to the psych department, I was always short on cash. Art supplies are expensive here in the islands and sadly, not having a rich best friend like Betty anymore put a serious kink on my cash flow. So naturally, I jumped all over Meka's offer. It blew my mind when the crazy chick handed me a thousand dollars in cash seconds after I said yes to her offer of work. 

"Going rate for an assistant," she told me with a small smile. "My regular guy can't make it so you'll have to do."

Meka never found out about my naked underwater shots with Li. If she had, I'm sure she wouldn't have hired me for this second gig. Weirdly, it was the Goth lesbian princess, Deidre Kahakaloha Smith that had come to my rescue. Deirdre was the one responsible for making the proof sheets for the Li photo shoot and she told me she had deleted my shots on the the digital card. I suspect she had done did it as a favor for LI and not for me. And I also suspect that Deidre had made a few prints for Li before the deletions. I prayed that the Tanaka guy never found out. I would hate to be the one responsible for Deidre losing a good paying gig. 

After the airport exit, Meka took a side road that followed the edge of the tarmac. Five minutes later, we pulled into an airfield lined with small aircraft.

"This is why my regular guy wasn't available," Meka said. "I couldn't get him into one of these little planes. He calls them deathtraps. You up for flying in a deathtrap?" 

"Danger is my middle name. Do they serve coffee here?" I asked looking around but saw nothing that looked like a coffee shop, not even a manapua truck. 

"No coffee. And lolo is your middle name." 

As Meka and I unloaded the Volvo of baggage and equipment, a beat up pickup truck pulled up alongside us.

"That's Teddy, Our pilot" Meka said.

"Really?" I said giving the ugly pick up a dubious look.

"Don't worry, he's a good pilot," Meka assured me. 

"If he's so good why does he drive such a shitty truck? Doesn't he make enough money flying?" I asked a bit disturbed at how much I sounded like my grandmother.

"Stop being so Japanese," Meka said.

"No can help. Born this way."

"Hey Teddy," Meka cheerfully greeted the middle aged local guy giving him a friendly hug. He was on the chubby side perhaps one meal away from being officially fat. The guy's rumpled appearance and unshaven face begged for a urine test.

"Hey Meka," Teddy said. He pulled a large silver thermos out of the storage bin on the back of his ugly truck. "I brought coffee." Along with the coffee he produced a cardboard box with paper cups, sugar packets, creamer packets and plastic spoons. My opinion of the guy did a one-eighty.

"This is Gwen and I think you just made a friend for life Teddy," Meka said. 

We poured and dressed our coffees on the tailgate of Teddy's BEAUTIFUL truck. With coffees in hand, he led us to a sleek looking red and white aircraft parked on the small airfield among the other airplanes. He told us what the airplane was called and rattled off its specks. The thing seemed too small to be taken seriously. A twinge of doubt seized me effectively evaporating my earlier bravado. The word deathtrap didn't seem so funny now. Teddy helped us load equipment and luggage into the two cargo bins on either side of the plane. 

"I get shotgun," Meka said. 

She got no argument from me; the less I could see out the better I thought. I squeezed into one of the two seats in the back and immediately buckled up. I wondered stupidly if airplanes came with crash airbags. 

"So how long have you been flying," I asked Teddy trying to sound conversational.

"Two weeks from this Tuesday," he said.

I blanched and squeak out a tiny sound of distress.

Meka slapped Teddy's arm and said, "He did this to me too when we first flew together. He thinks it's funny. He's been flying for years."

"Aw, ruin the fun," Teddy said with a smile.

I considered smacking him too. 

Teddy put on a headset and then did a series of checks. Satisfied with his checks, he pressed a button to start the plane. The two prop engines on the wings kicked in simultaneously with no coughing or hitching. 

Thank goodness! I almost screamed aloud.

After another series of checks, Teddy rolled the tiny craft out onto the runway. He said a few words into his headset, the engines revved higher, we raced down the runway, and then lifted magically into the air seconds later. 

"I logged a flight path over the Wailuku side of the West Maui Mountains, "Teddy informed us in a loud voice to be heard over the drone of the engines. "Then we fly over the Maalaea Boat Harbor then follow the Pali Highway coast to Lahaina. Az longer flight but mo' scenic."

It was still dark when we lifted off but the sun came up minutes after we were over the ocean. It was a cloudless day and soon, the island of Molokai was beneath us with Lanai a little further down on our right. The Island of Kahoolawe was a blue-gray smear even further out. With Maui in sight, we took a right turn. We flew over the neck of land that divided Maui's two mountain ranges. Maui's two major cities were located on the neck, Wailuku and Kahului. Teddy flew as low as he was allowed and we could see the craggy details of the West Maui Mountains. The sun topped the Haleakala Crater bathing everything in golden orange light. As we flew over the mountains on our right. I could make out the intensely green Iao Valley rainforest. I though of my forest goddess and whispered a quiet greeting to her and then prayed for a safe landing for good measure. 

The plane banked away from the mountains and flew over homes and then vast sugarcane fields. A few minuets later the crowded Maalaea boat harbor was beneath us briefly and then shrunk behind us as we moved over open water. To our left, the island of Kaoolawi dominated the horizon, to the right the red brown drier side of the West Maui Mountains were in sharp view. We flew over Olowalu a favorite spot for surfers Hawk once told me. Even at this early hour I could see the tiny specks of surfboards in the water. The Pali Highway, carved into the side of the mountain years ago, weaved below crammed with cars from the morning rush hour. From our height, the cars seemed to move in slow motion. In a few minutes Lahaina town came into view. A menagerie of ships and boats peppered the waters off shore, a denser concentration of boats and ships filled the Lahaina harbor. 

As Lahaina town thinned the Kaanapali resort area came into view. Several large hotels hugged the coast all connected by a long stretch of pale sand and a seemingly endless bright green golf course. The plane turned inland heading to the microscopic Kapalua West Maui Airport. I checked my seat belt and braced myself for a jolt as the plane rapidly descended. No jolt came though as the plane kissed down with barely a squeak from the tires. We taxied for a minuet then came to a stop near a cluster of squat buildings surrounded by other small aircraft. Teddy killed the engines.

"Welcome to Lahaina the most beautiful town in the world, " Teddy said.

"To you Lahaina boys maybe," Meka said. "This place too hot."

"Because you big city Kahului girls weak az why," Teddy said.

I smiled at the banter. I grew up in the sprawl of Honolulu and Waikiki. Calling Kahului, a big city was a stretch to my opinion. 

We offloaded our bags from the tiny plane and went into the little terminal building. As Teddy busied himself filling out aviation paper work, Meka went to retrieve the keys for her Avis rental car faithfully waiting for us out in the parking lot. It was perhaps the world's ugliest gray Colt hatchback in all the islands. 

"Couldn't you afford a nicer car?"

Meka laughed and said in local pidgin, "Some critical, you." We loaded the ugly thing with our bags and equipment. "I specifically requested this car for two reasons. First, with the backseat folded down it will hold all of my equipment, and second, it doesn't scream RENTAL! PLEASE BREAK IN AND STEAL MY STUFF!" 

At the highway, Meka turned left toward Lahaina town and flowed into the mid morning traffic. A little past town, the traffic thinned and soon we were at the old Lahaina tunnel with the year 1921 carved over the entrance. A couple of hundred yards after the tunnel, Meka steered the rental onto the shoulder of the highway and then onto a bumpy dirt road that took us around a crumbly outcropping of red rock. On the passenger's side of the car, the Hawaiian word Pali, meaning cliff, lived up to its name by dropping straight down to the churning rocky shore a hundred or more feet below.

Meka rolled the ugly rental to a stop. 

"You better get out on my side," she said. 

She got no argument from me as I crawled over the gearshift and slipped out the driver's door. We unloaded two heavy gym bags, a full backpack and a small drink cooler. Meka put on the backpack then slung one of the gym bags over her shoulder, I took the other gym bag and we carried the cooler between us. After a few yards, the path narrowed growing steep and rough. Rocky walls closed in on either side of us. The path ended at a sheer drop with a view of the unnaturally blue Pacific Ocean a long ways below. We dropped our loads then took turns looking over the edge at a calm rocky cove far below. Even from this height I could see colorful reef fish lazily swing in the shallows of the blue-green water. 

"It's beautiful," I said. 

"A local fisherman told me about this place a couple of years back," Meka said. "I've been aching to do a photo shoot here ever since." She got out her camera and took a few photos of the cove below and of the narrow path we used to get here. We hefted our bags and the cooler and worked our way back to a path that looped around to a not so sheer rocky drop off. We dropped the bags and cooler to look down the rocky slope, tufts of grass poked out here and there. 

"I'm told that a couple of feet down is a nylon rope anchored into the cliff wall at intervals for easy accessibility," Meka said. She adjusted her backpack, tested the rocky ground for footing and then she gingerly stepped down sideways." Found the rope," she said. She came back up, shouldered a gym bag and started down. I shouldered the other gym bag and we dragged more than carried the cooler between us.

"Who's idea of accessible is this?" I complained as we worked our way down. 

The loaded gym bag on my shoulder kept threatening to topple me over. Thankfully, the thick rope anchored to the cliff side was knotted every couple of feet for easy gripping. Fifteen heart pounding minutes later; the rope gave out onto a rocky ledge. I dropped my load and stood next to Meka. Breathing hard, we gawked at a fifty-yard stretch of pale creamy sand in the shape of a crescent moon that was not visible from up top. It was like something out of a pirate movie. 

"It's too perfect to be real," I said.

"Bet it took a million years for the sea to carve out this little scene." Meka said. 

A strange feeling rippled through me ... I've seen this place before, but I quickly dismissed the feeling for I was positive I had never been her before in my life.

Meka climbed down the last six feet or so to the sand. I lowered the cooler then the bags to her. I stood on the rock for a few seconds looking at the idyllic beach with its odd rock overhang that created a perfect patch of shade. Then I had it, the little painting Paul Gleason had brought at Ala Moana beach Park. The artist must have stood on this very rock to do the painting or at leased worked from a photo taken from this spot. This was so odd ... and kind of spooky. 

"You coming down skinny jeans?" Meka asked from below.

I snapped out of my weird moment and climbed down the rock. We stood on the pristine white sand totally void of footprints. The isolation felt delicious. I said, "We could get totally naked and walk about without the world knowing." 

Meka laughed. "As hard as it is for you, please keep your panties on. I have no desire to see your skinny little ass."

I gave her the finger and then for no reason, Meka and I dashed down the length of the beach whooping like idiots.

A little out of breath, we stashed the bags and the cooler of drinks in the shade under the rock overhang. Meka fumbled around in her backpack and pulled out two sturdy black trash bags and handed one to me. 

"We pay tribute to the gods," she said. "Pick up any human trash that the sea may have brought in." 

I nodded for it was a fair price to pay for this unexpected beauty. With trash bags in hand, Meka and I combed opposite ends of the beach for human debris. I found bits of broken plastic, an aluminum soda can, some fishing line. As I picked up a piece of waste paper, my eyes caught a glint of an object in the sand. Thinking it was a bottle I dropped to my knees to carefully dig it up in case it was broken. The object was made of glass alright, but it wasn't a bottle. It was a greenish translucent glass globe about the size of a grapefruit.

"I found a net float!" I called out excited. 

Holding her trash bag and an aluminum can, Meka walked over to see. "It must really be old," she said. "They hardly make them of glass anymore." Meka took the thing into her hands and spun it. Half of the glass was speckled with dead white barnacles forming a rough X on one side. "This one's Chinese." Meka showed me an embossed symbol at the bottom of the float. "That's the Chinese character for the ocean goddess Li, the chosen goddess of fishermen in certain parts of China, Taiwan and South Indochina. She brings good luck." 

In my mind's eye, I saw the naked bluish-white form of Li Hong floating before me. Li goddess of the sea ... The name fit her well I thought. 

"Enough appeasement to pagan gods, I want a soda," Meka said. I followed her to the cooler in the shade of the overhang. 

We knotted up our trash bags and then drank our sodas sitting in the shade of the overhang taking in the tiny lagoon enclosed by towering rocks. An occasional loud roar of waves breaking on the other side of the lagoon's protective ring was the only sound that met our ears.

"To hell with the Honolulu rat race," I said. "We'll live here forever, naked and free, eating fish and coconuts that wash in on the waves."

"Na, I'd miss Starbucks," Meka said seriously. After a sip of her soda she said, "I guess you've heard the news of Erma Beaumont's departure?"

I choked and spat out a mouth full of soda. "What news?" 

"I though you knew, she being your mentor and all."

"I've been kind of avoiding her lately. What news?" My mind raced back to my impromptu pagan ritual a month ago. Although, I didn't believe any of it, a deeper primitive part of me did. With superstitious dread I thought, did I had given her cancer? A heart attack? 

"She accepted a job offer as curator at a museum in San Francisco defecated to prominent female abstract painters throughout history. She leaves in January."

"Oh," I said stunned ... and relieved.

"All you have to do is get through this semester then you'll have a new adviser come January. Goodby modernism, hello quirky post-modern portraiture."

"Yeah," I said as mixed emotions flowed through me. 

"You don't sound too excited."

"I'm scared shitless," I said, surprised that tears were flowing down my face. "Artistically, I'm totally lost. All my latest paintings seem impulsive, coming from a part of my brain that I can't get a grip on." I wiped at my eyes and let out a humorous laugh. I'm so desperate for some kind of fucking grip on my brain That I signed to a dream study at the psych department. Probably the only thing I'll get from that is proving that I'm crazy."

"I can save you the time," Meka said. "You one lolo bitch."

"Yeah, well, at least I get paid by the psych department for that fluttering assessment."

After a minuet of silence, Meka said softly, "Change doesn't come easy for us Japanese chicks huh?" 

"Had too much of it lately is all." I turned the net float in my hands and wondered what the goddesses had in store for me.

Chapter 41 Cassie, Rudy and Harry

"My subjects are here," Meka said snapping me out of my mental hand wringing. 

Three people stood on the ledge above the sand at the entrance to the cove, two men and one woman. Both men were Hawaiian and stood near a foot taller than the woman. The woman had an arm around the waist of one of the men and she wore a big floppy straw hat. Meka stood up, dusted sand from the butt of her jeans and then waved at the group. I wiped my face and eyes of tears and stood up too. 

"Who are they?" I asked.

"The couple is Rudy and Cassie Kahakaloha. They own the Waikiki Sunset Gym. 

"Hawk got me a membership there," I said. "Nice gym."

"The other guy is Harry Hoopii one of my regular models. The Kahakaloha's are paying for photos to put up in the lobby of their gym." 

"Rudy Kahakaloha? Why do I know that name?" I asked as we walked toward the rock ledge. 

"He was a big football star a few years ago at the university. The team road his back to a bowl birth in his senior year. An injury kept him from going pro."

The man standing with the woman wore a red tang top and loose denim shorts. He bent at the knees and jumped from the ledge landing in the sand in a graceful three point stand. 

"That's Rudy," Meka said. 

Rudy stood up. His beautifully sculpted arms, legs, chest and stomach were a testament to a serious work out regime. In fact, he looked the way a guy should look who owned a gym. His black long hair touched his shoulders and framed a rugged and handsome, dark brown Hawaiian face. He turned to catch bags the others on the ledge tossed down at him. I took the moment to admire his splendidly muscled back and tight ass. 

Meka leaned in to me and whispered, "Roll up your tongue and stop drooling." 

To be funny, I made an exaggerated swiped at my mouth.

"Jump baby, I'll catch you," Rudy Kahakaloha said to his wife on the ledge.

"You had better catch me or I'll kick your ass back to the airport, I tell you what," Cassie Kahakaloha said. She removed her straw hat and chucked it down. Her husband caught it and handed it to me. Cassie had a cute pixie face surrounded by short blond hair in a boyish bob cut. Her accent said southern continental United States. Shockingly, Cassie threw herself into the air and landed in a sitting position in her husbands waiting arms. Rudy flipped her into the air and with a theatrical twist; she landed in the sand one arm extended over her head and the other at her waist. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 07



Rudy laughed and Meka applauded.

"She was a cheerleader for Texas when we met," Rudy said beaming us a dazzling smile. he hugged Meka and kissed her cheek. 

"Head cheerleader," Cassie corrected. Cassie stood at an even five-feet. A loose beach dress concealed her figure and what skin I could see was ghostly white. I handed her back her hat and she put it back on. 

A blunt thud in the sand announced the arrival of Harry Hoopii. He was the exact same height as Rudy probably five-eight, just as buff, but slightly slimmer. Where Rudy was ruggedly handsome, Harry could best be described as angelic. Like Rudy, Harry's hair was shoulder length and a sun streaked sandy brown. He had that perfect blend of Polynesian and Asian, his smooth perfect facial features would look good on a woman too I thought. His dark brown skin seemed to glow from within like a Dutch Renaissance painting.

"You're drooling again girl," Meka whispered to me.

"How do you know so many hot guys?" I whispered back. 

"Perks of being a part time photographer. You meet a lot of beautiful people."

"I'm fuckin' throwing away my brushes and I'm buying a camera," I said eying up the two delicious men. 

"You're going to have to streak your hair different colors like Deidre," Meka said. 

"And get some tattoos too," I added.

Meka laughed.

"I have a friend in Waimanalo who appeared on Miami Ink, "Cassie said. "She's the shit. I can hook you up." 

"No need, Gwen's just being stupid," Meka said then introduced everyone all around. After the introductions, Meka went right to work. "Everyone one got the clothing I requested?" 

"It wasn't easy to find this," Rudy said as he unzipped his backpack. "I ordered it on line. It just came in the mail this morning." He held out an insignificant piece of leathery cloth. "I don't even know how to put it on." 

Cassie took the thing from her husband and gave it a once over.

"Your nuts go in here, your shlong here," she said. "The stringy thing goes up your crack and this part wraps around your waist. It's not unlike a string bikini with room allotted for your boto." 

Rudy gave his wife a dubious look.

I smiled. Cassie's use of the local Filipino word, boto, meaning penis, sounded funny in her Texas drawl. 

"You have trouble finding a loincloth?" Meka asked Harry. 

"No, already own two. I'm wearing one now in fact."

"I'm not gonna ask why you own one, let alone two loincloths," Meka said. She looked at Cassie and asked, "Got the bikini we talked about?" 

Cassie handed her hat off to her husband and pulled the beach dress over her head. Beneath she wore an earthy olive-green bikini trimmed with black. "The gym's colors like you asked," Cassie said. "I can't wait for this photo thing to be over so I can start getting some sun again. I tell you what, I feel like I'm haunting my own Gym." 

The girl's body was small tight and muscular like a gymnast, wide at the shoulders, tiny breasts, an impossibly narrow waist and a gorgeous muscular ass. She casually flexed her arms and they rippled with wiry strength. 

"Thank you for indulging me," Meka said with a laugh. "Now put on some sun block and get in the shade of the overhang before you start to color." To the men she said, "Breakout the loincloths and warm up for the throw net shots."

Rudy joined his wife under the overhang and started striping down. Realizing he was going to have to get totally naked to put on the loincloth, I turned my head to give the guy some privacy. My eyes found Harry all ready stripped down to his loincloth he wore beneath his shorts and t-shirt. The sea breeze stirred his long brown hair ... and the back and front flaps of the loincloth. His dark brown skin was even and seamless with no tan lines that I could see. Harry knelt in the sand and fished out a throw net from one of Meka's gym bags. With the net draped over his left shoulder, he stood giving it an experts once over. It was clear that the guy knew how to handle a Hawaiian throw net.

"Nice view huh?" Meka said. 

I nodded in total agreement. "He looks like he should be in a gladiator movie."

"I asked them to tan in the nude. Looks like it paid off."

"Fuck yeah," I agreed thinking of Harry laying in the sun, all oiled up naked and shiny. 

Rudy Kahakaloha walked out from under the overhang into the sun. Like Harry, Rudy's tan was a rich seamless brown. As he walked, his thigh muscles bunched and relaxed hypnotically. He looked like a Polynesian Conan the barbarian. All that was missing was a sword and a heap of dispatched foes. Rudy made a face and pulled at the back of his loincloth. I giggled, thus ending the impromptu barbarian fantasy rolling in my head.

"How do you chicks walk around with something running up your ass?" Rudy asked his wife who stood back still in the shade of the overhang. Rudy picked at his ass again.

"Back under the overhang so I can do some light makeup," Meka said.

As everyone tramped into the shade, I deliberately hung back just to see the guys' backsides. Unlike Harry, Rudy's loincloth didn't have a crack-concealing flap giving me a delicious view of his handsomely sculpted brown ass. Meka nudged me and I quickly put on a professional face. 

As Meka worked on Harry's face, I asked Cassie and Rudy, "Did you guys meet here at the university?" 

"No," Rudy answered. "We met at the Bowl game game where I broke my leg." 

"That's right," Cassie said. "I was on the Texas cheer squad and I saw and heard what happened to my man's leg. His poor broken body plopped right down in front of me. All the other girls cleared out in horror but I stayed put. My daddy's a veterinary surgeon and I helped out at his animal hospital in the summers. Broken limbs were not foreign to me." 

"Was to me," Rudy said with a grimace. 

"Anyway," Cassie continued with a playful slap at her husband's arm, "I saw that he was struggling to remove his helmet so I dropped down to his side and helped him take it off. We both looked at his leg all gross and twisted like. We could see bone sticking out. Rudy looked up into my face and said something in Hawaiian then his eyes rolled up to the whites and he was gone. The doctors from both teams showed up and I was pushed away." Cassie stroked her husband's face with unguarded affection as she spoke. "After the game, I went over to the Hawaii bench and approached one of the trainers who looked Hawaiian and I repeated to him what Rudy had said to me hoping for a translation. He told me he didn't know, but took me to another trainer, a Hawaiian woman with beautiful eyes. 

"That was Gina," Rudy said. "She's the defensive coordinator now. I hear she's shooting for the head coach job next year."

"About time someone with brains got the job," Cassie said. "Anyway, Gina told me that the closest English translation would be beautiful spirit or ghost. Being the young self-centered female that I was back then, I chose the beautiful spirit translation. I found out that Rudy was staying overnight for observation in a nearby hospital so I went to see him after the game." 

Rudy picked up the story from there. 

"When I woke up on the gurney on my way to the medical room in the stadium, I tried to turn my head to look for Cassie but they had me in a neck brace so I couldn't move. I asked, "Were the angel?" but no one knew what I was talking about. I gave up and chalked her up as an hallucination brought on by the pain in my leg. Imagine the shock when I saw her standing in my hospital room later that night." He stroked his wife's hair tenderly. In a voice edged with honest emotion he said, "Her hair was longer then." 

"So that's how we met," Cassie said in her rich Texas drawl. "Football's tragic lost was my lifelong find."

"I didn't know that broken bones could be so romantic," Meka said. 

"In two places, twice as romantic," Rudy added with a theatrical twinge. We all laughed. 

"I have a question," Harry chimed in. He waited until he had everyone's attention and then he asked, "Did you get the first down?" 

Meka and I gaped at him in total horror at such a pointless, insensitive thing to ask. But Rudy only laughed. 

"No," Rudy said. "The quarterback was scrabbling for his life and was just trying to throw out of bounds. I had no business trying to catch that pass." 

"Well baby, I'm glad you were stupid," Cassie piped in. Rudy tickled her ribs making her yelp.

Chapter 42 The Photo Shoot

After working on Rudy's face, Meka said, "Time to get to work gentlemen. Rudy, Harry, get a net and meet me at water's edge." Meka draped three loaded cameras around my neck and said to me, "Hang close, I'll ask for a camera you handed it to me. The one with the red strap has black and white film." 

Meka and I followed the men to the water. 

For the next hour, I assisted Meka by handing out cameras and reloading film. When I wasn't handling cameras, I walked around with a hand held Mylar reflector to add upward bounce light to a shot. The most enjoyable task of the day was misting the men with a spray bottle of water to heightened muscle tone. As I misted Rudy's dark brown ass I thought, I should be paying Meka to do this job.

At a short break, Meka handed me a camera.

"It's digital," she said. "The card's huge. Take as many shots of the guys as you like. Have fun. I'm going to check on Cassie's makeup and do some shots of her against the cliff wall." As she walked away she turned and said, "If I use any of your shots for anything I'm going to take full credit for them."

"Understood," I said as I centered Rudy's smiling face in the camera's tiny TV screen and snapped a still. "Go near that rock," I said pointing at a flattish rock a little taller than me poking out of the sand. I snapped a couple of shots of the hunky pair with the rock as backdrop. "Get up there Rudy," I said. Like a sleek cat, Rudy climbed up the rock with no effort. I circled the rock taking shots, enjoying the extreme perspective. "Okay, you can come down," I said. Rudy leaped from the rock right over my head making me squeal but I manage to snap a shot of him as he sailed overhead. I looked at shot on the the viewing screen. 

I showed it to him and he laughed. "Think Cassie would let me put that one in the gym lobby?"

I laughed too and then made to climb the rock myself, but because of the camera in one hand, I stalling halfway up. Just as I was about to fall back on the sand, I felt a hand at my waist and another high on my right thigh close to my ass. A gentle push followed and I made the top of the rock. It was Harry who had helped me up. I held the camera to my face to hide the fact that I was blushing. 

The guys moved around below me striking poses with the fish nets. At first, we were all serious, but all too soon, we started horsing around. I got a great shot of Harry netting a theatrically screaming Rudy. Done with shots from on high up, I made to climb down the rock. Harry was there and offered a hand to help me down.

"I got a better Idea," Rudy said. He formed a cradle with his muscled arms and had Harry do the same. "Jump like Cassie did. We'll catch you," Rudy said.

"Noway," I said sure that he was joking.

"Put the camera down, relax and dive," Rudy said with a casual 'come on' gesture.

"You serious," I said. He gave me the wave again. I reluctantly lowered the camera by its strap onto the rock. I stood and ruddy and Harry looked a loooong way down. I rubbed the sudden sweat from my hands onto the hips of my jeans. Side by side, with their arms held out, the two Hawaiian men looked up at me expectantly. 

No way, I decided ... and then I heard the voice of my ex best friend Betty, chucking like a chicken. "I am so fucking lolo," I said as I bend my knees and leaped off the rock in the direction of the men. I screamed realizing too late that I had made the most stupid decision in my life. Then I was in the arms of the men, face down, safe, unhurt, heart racing. Harry had me up high, one arm at my shoulders, the other across my tiny breasts. Rudy held my lower half , at the waist and hips. The feel the guys' strong arms around me felt spectacular. 

"Flip her!" Rudy said.

I screamed again as they threw me up in the air. I rolled over and landed in just Rudy's arms in a sitting position. 

"What are you ding to that girl?" Meka asked walking toward us.

"They were just helping me down from the rock," I said.

"Really, Gwen," Meka said in mock annoyance. "I can never leave you alone with boys."

Rudy lowered me to the sand. Just when my feet touched, he spun me like I was on a dance floor. Much to my credit, I ended in a pose that made me look graceful. Harry smiled as he handed me the camera from off the rock. Meka took charge of photographing the men.

I went to the shadow of the overhang to get a soda, still a little shaken from my leap of faith.

"That was a nice jump," Cassie said, waiting in the shadows for Meka to call her out. "You got some grace too, girly." 

"Um, thanks," I said at the unexpected compliment.

"If you want a job as a dancer, I can hook you up with a friend who owns a club in Waikiki?" 

"What kind of club?" I asked.

"What other kind of club is there in Waikiki?" Cassie said. "Exotic dancing of course."

"Stripping? Really?"

Cassie nodded, totally serious. 

"I think I'll pass," I said politely, positive she was fucking with me.

Meka called for Cassie to join the men near the water's edge.

"Find me at my gym if you change your mind," Cassie said as she walked out into the sun.

I shook my head and could help but admire her cute athletic ass as she walked away. 

I joined the group too and watched Meka lined up the men on either side of Cassie. The contrast of blond, pale, lithe Cassie to her dark Hawaiian bookends was striking. For the next half hour, Meka had the trio do classic muscle magazine poses as a group. My favorite pose had Cassie sitting high on one of Harry's shoulders with her arms in a Y over her head, one foot extended resting on one of Rudy's shoulders who stood facing forward with arms crossed.

"I have plenty for the gym lobby," Meka announced a half hour later. "You guys ready for the private stuff?" The trio nodded. "Gwen, can you get the rolled exercise mat and the beige blanket please?" 

I ran to the overhang and fished out the items. Cassie helped me spread the light blue six by six mat on the sand where Meka wanted it and then we covered it with the beige blanket. Meka walked over holding a small video camera in one hand and her digital camera in the other. She handed me the digital.

It's got a big memory card, so fire at will." Meka pointed the video camera at Cassie then said, "Lose the bikini top." Cassie did with no hint of hesitation. 

I managed to hide my surprise at the unexpected nudity, pointed my camera and took a shot. Even with SPF-45 sun block, Cassie showed hints of tan lines from her bikini top. A faint smattering of freckles peppered her tiny breasts. Her erect nipples were surrounded by nickel size, pale ginger-brown aureoles. 

"Auwe," I whispered, this time unable to hide my surprise.

It wasn't Cassie's sudden nudity that astonished me. I was used to working with nude models in art class—and of course there was the whole Li Hong thing. What shocked me was the obvious bulge in Harry Hoopii's loincloth. It was clear that the guy had a full-blown erection! Apparently, I wasn't the only one taken off guard by Cassie's nudity. What's Meka gonna do about that? The hell with Meka's reaction, I thought further—the chick's muscled bound husband is standing just a couple of feet away! Of its own accord, my camera focused on Harry's bulging loincloth. 

"Rudy, Harry full front, flank her. Crowd in close," Meka directed from behind her small video camera. Tiny topless Cassie stood between the two dark men. I noted that Rudy was sporting serious wood too. I wasn't sure if that made it better or worst. "The guys look ready for you," Meka said. "drop and remove their loincloths."

My jaw dropped at Meka's lurid direction. Meka looked my way and winked, then went back to filming. 

Cassie dropped to her knees on the blanket and tugged at Harry's loincloth. Unable to remove the garment, she focused her attention on Rudy but his proved just as daunting. Her face turned to Meka's camera. 

"I can't get these silly things off," Cassie said with true consternation. 

"Boys, help her out," Meka advised. The guys unraveled themselves and soon two dark brown erections flanked Cassie's pale face. Meka said, "Alternate taking them in your mouth." 

Like a porno diva, Cassie pleasured the pair with gusto using her mouth and hands. 

And that's how things went, Meka directed, the three complied, and the whole time, I snapping away with the digital camera. A couple of hours later it was over, Cassie, Rudy and Harry helped haul things out and we parted company at roadside. 

On the ride out, I asked, "Why didn't you tell me that you were filming a porno?"

"I like to keep things spontaneous," she said with her eyes on the twisting Pali Highway. 

"You do a lot of stuff like that?" I asked curious. 

"Not too much," Meka said. After a pause she asked, "Did this offend you? I didn't mean too. I thought you'd kind of enjoy this." 

"I did," I said. After a pause I added, "Those guys were fucking hot!"

Meka laughed.

We drove the Pali Highway then across the neck of Maui with the West Maui Mountains to our left and the ten thousand-foot Haleakala Crater to the right. Just under an hour, we pulled into the driveway of a house in Pukalani halfway up the Haleakala Crater. 

**********

I sat on the sofa in the large sun room facing a wall made entirely of glass. Miles below, a symphony of intense color played out as the sun dropped behind the West Maui Mountains. It all screamed for a Wagner sound track ... or Hendrix. 

Meka Okuda entered the room and said, "Ho hum. Just another spectacular Maui sunset." 

I nodded and continued watching nature's spectacle unfold. 

"Really, Gwen. You're like a gawking haole tourist," Meka said with a laugh.

"It's almost like a dream," I said. "People would call me a liar, an exaggerator if I painted what I saw down there. All this color is unnatural." 

"I down loaded the movie from the camera to the laptop," Meka said. "You wanna see?"

I got up from the sofa and followed Meka through the large rambling house pass the long stretched out kitchen that divided the living room and sun room. The house belonged to an old school friend of Meka's. The guy was on vacation in Idaho or some state like that.

In the living room, Meka's laptop rested on the koa coffee table. Meka and I dropped onto the comfy plush sofa. As Meka tacked at her laptop, it occurred to me that today was the first time in a while that I had paid attention to the sun rising and setting in the same day.

An image came up on Meka's laptop and I blinked back into the present. Meka and I laughed at the scene of Cassie tugging at the loincloths. Cassie looked out of the laptop screen right at us and said, 'I can't get these silly things off.' She looked honestly dumbfounded. 

"I've got to find a way to keep that in," Meka said.

We watched the two beautiful Hawaiian men ravage petite Cassie. But by no means was the little chick a passive player in the film; she gave just as much as she took. A particular scene that I liked was Cassie suspended off the ground by Rudy with Harry supporting her legs and pounding away at her on his knees. 

"I think I've done that position with Hawk and Matt," I said absently. 

"Too much information," Meka stated.

The view on the laptop screen started from Harry's rear then came around front and focusing on Harry's penis sliding in and out of Cassie. The camera drifted up to Cassie's small pale freckled breasts then up to her face, her eyes were wide-open, mouth slightly agape, taking in short breaths in time with Harry's plunges. Then her eyes opened a bit wider and she blurted out, "Holy Jesus in the valley!" At the same moment Harry pulled out of her, gripped his erection with his right hand and sprayed four quick ropes of semen across her pale stomach. Without direction, Cassie wrenched free of the men and dropped to her hands and knees on the beach blanket now nearly covered with sand. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 07



"She's certainly into it," I said as sexual warmth enveloped me. I looked at Meka focused unblinking at the laptop screen and wondered if she was turned on too. Then I decided ... probably not. The chick's not a freak like me. 

The next shot focused in on Rudy entering Cassie from behind then moved around to the left ending with a close up side view of Cassie's enraptured face. Unexpectedly, the camera drifted up to me kneeling in the sand looking at the LCD screen of the digital camera, my expression an odd mirror of Cassie's.

"Too bad I have to cut that out," Meka said. "The camera certainly likes you."

"Yeah, too bad," I echoed as my face heated with excitement watching myself watching Rudy fucking Cassie.

On the laptop, Cassie arched her back like an angry cat and shouted out, "Take me to heaven Lord God!"

"That girl gets religious when she's hot to go," Meka observed.

I know exactly how she feels I thought ... but kept it to myself.

The camera focused in on Rudy's erection sliding and out of his wife. "I'm coming!" Rudy suddenly barked. 

"Show us the money!" Meka's voice came from the laptop.

Rudy pulled out of his wife, gripped his erection and ejaculated several wet white lines on her ass and lower back.

"That's it," Meka said. "A couple of days of editing should polish this gem real nice."

"What are the gonna do with this?" I asked.

"None of my business," Meka said. "They pay me and I ask no questions."

"And on that note, I'm gonna take a shower," I said. "Maybe a cold one." 

Meka laughed.

**********

In the large shower stall, hot water drummed at the back of my neck, soothing, luxurious, and decadent. I closed my eyes and instantly went to Cassie being ravaged by her two Hawaiian lovers. Two seconds later, I eliminated Cassie and put myself into the video. I was held off the ground by Rudy from behind as Harry's sweet, plum-brown penis slid in and out of my wet opening. Rudy's hands exploring my breasts, face and neck ... in the real world my right hand went to work between my legs. 

My eyes flew open at the sound of the bathroom door clicked opened. Seconds later, the shower door slid opened next. Meka Okuda stood naked pointing her video camera at me. 

"Wanna be a star?" she asked from behind her camera.

I nodded with my eyes locked on the full, sexy triangle of hair between her splendid thighs. "The certainly camera loves you," Meka said drifting closer. My breathing quickened as hot desire for her to touch and kiss me pushed me over the edge. I quivered and gasped giving into my orgasm.

A knock at the bathroom door startled me from my strange layered fantasy. The real Meka called out, "Hey skinny, how long you gonna be in there?"

"I'm done," I said a little breathy, not to mention confused at my unexpected desire for Meka ... or was it her camera?



Naked Portraits Pt. 08



Notes from the author:

Hello Literotica reader. Part seven was fun. Nothing like a story of the sea, sun and sand to warm you up on a cold winter day. 

I emailed a friend on Maui to ask if the cove in the photo shoot was real. He said it was possible but the island has gotten so populated over the years that such an isolated place seemed unlikely to him. He sent me some photos from that side of island that seem to fit the story. The pics made me want to board a airplane and leave wintery Northern Virginia forever. I think if I still lived in Ohio or much further north than Virginia, I would have gotten on that plane. 

**********

Chapter 43 Bones

The next morning, I helped Meka Okuda load camera equipment into the ugly rental hatchback. 

"What now?" I asked as we backed out of the driveway. "More photos of naked Hawaiian hunks?"

"Sorry perv, but this assignment is kind of boring. Some guy is paying me to take pictures of some historical artifacts he found. The money's good. Your cut is three hundred." She handed me an envelope of cash.

"Hanging with you is so lucrative," I said counting out twenties with greedy glee. 

At the end of the street, we made a right turn onto the Haleakala Highway. It was down hill all the way to the Hana Highway junction at the bottom, where we turned left at the light. Soon, we were cruising through Kahului on Kaahumanu Avenue up to Maui's capital seat,Wailuku. 

"Are we going to Iao Valley?" I asked as the West Maui Mountains loomed green and close. It was impossible for me not to think of my mysterious forest goddess. 

"No we go to the left to some new suburbs at the base of the mountains near Wailuku Heights." Meka said.

Fifteen minutes later we arrived at a construction sight peppered with unfinished, expensive looking houses. 

"It's outside?" I asked as we got out of the car.

"Yeah, just on the other side of that hill," Meka said pointing at a bump of land overgrown with local foliage. 

Loaded down with bags of camera equipment and tripods, we walked up a rough path to the top of the plant covered hill. At the top we looked down on the other side at a rough camp that looked like an archeological dig. The camp was spread below on a wide patch of gassy ground not far from a sugarcane field. Cut into the grass here and there were organized holes of red-orange dirt. The holes made me think of open wounds and an inexplicable feeling of isolation descended on me so powerful that it made me stop in my tracks. Meka was halfway down the sloping trail that led into the little camp before she realized I wasn't with her. 

"Bags too much?" she call back up at me.

Her voice snapped me out of my creepy little trance. 

"No just adjusting." I lied. I put a reluctant foot foreword and soon I was at her side again. 

We made a beeline to the biggest tent at the center of the camp. A chubby Asian guy in shorts, muddy sneakers and an equally dirty beige t-shirt stood just inside the flap of the tent. He stopped what he was doing to look at us.

"I'm Meka Okuda," Meka said to the guy. "This is Gwen my assistant. We're the photographers." The guy stared at us wide eyed but didn't say a word. His cheeks colored as he nervously wipe his hands on his belly leaving fresh muddy smears on his already soiled t-shirt. 

Meka and I looked at each other perplexed. Maybe he didn't speak English, I thought. 

"You have to excuse Rubin," came a deep male voice from inside the tent, "he gets a little tongue tied around pretty girls." Three seconds later, Hawk, my blond surfer lover exited the tent. After squealing like an idiot I ran into his arms and embraced him.

"I thought you were at the dig in Hilo!" I said squeezing him hard.

"Hilo is next week," he said in a tight voice because of the hug. 

"Surprise," Meka said with a knowing grin.

"You knew we were coming here and didn't say a thing?" I asked her.

"I like keeping things spontaneous," she said.

Hawk made introductions starting with red-faced Rubin. The guy smiled weakly at me barely meeting my eyes as he shook my hand. With Meka, he couldn't look her in the face at all. Hawk called two females from out of the tent. We were introduced to Laura a petite blonde and Nelly a thin Hawaiian-Chinese girl. Both girls were pretty and very young. Hawk called two guys in from around the camp and introduced them too. Meka and I shook hands with Logan, a local from Maui and William, a lanky kid from Portland, Oregon.

I noticed that our girl Nelly seemed perturbed that Hawk had his arm around me. Apparently, the little thing had designs on her instructor and didn't appreciate the sudden competition. 

I don't blame you one bit, I thought with a fresh squeeze at Hawk's hip, but the professor's girlfriend has arrived.

Hawk sent everyone back to work then instructed Rubin to give Meka a tour of the site. Rubin's face turned red and I couldn't tell if the chubby guy was happy or terrified of his new duty. 

With a hand on Rubin's shoulder Hawk said, "Rubin is the one who found this site while researching some old documents at the university library for something totally unrelated." Rubin turned redder, but I could tell that he enjoyed being praised in front of Meka and me. "It's your find, you tell them," Hawk encouraged. 

"About a year ago—" Rubin started in a soft voice barely above a whisper. 

"What?" Hawk interrupted theatrically cupping an ear. "The students in the back of the class can't hear you."

"I was reading through manifests of old French cargo ships from the mid eighteen hundreds," Rubin continued a bit louder, "when I came an envelope between the pages of one of them. The document inside the envelope predated the manifest by almost fifty years. Inside the envelope was a letter that described a burial of a Jesuit monk on Maui, near Wailuku where I grew up. A rough little map was included. After an extensive search through the historical records of Maui, I couldn't find any mention of the grave sight at the time period of the document. On a break, I flew home to look for the burial site myself. I found the grave just where the map and document said it would be. I put the find in writing and submitted it to the head of the anthropology department and Mr. Detrick."

"It took over a year to get permission from all concern parties to start digging," Hawk said. "In the beginning we thought that we were digging up a single grave but we soon found out that the site was a small settlement that had somehow gotten lost in the historical shuffle. This dig is hush hush until more research can be done to verify dates. The university has sent researchers to Tahiti and France to track down clues. Rubin was offered either of those assignments, but the stupid fuck chose to stay in the dirt at the site." Hawk slapped Rubin on the shoulder, "Glad you stayed dude." Rubin smiled ear to ear. "Show Meka around," Hawk told him. 

Hawk and I watched Rubin walk Meka around the dig. I was mildly amused by the height difference, Rubin was maybe five foot five and Meka near five-ten. We couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could tell that Meka was asking questions and Rubin seem to have the answers. With each passing minute Rubin turned less red and even smiled once or twice.

"I'm amazed that Rubin is talking so much," Hawk said in awe. "He's barely made a peep around the two young fillies here at the site."

"Looks like Nelly has a crush on the teacher," I said taking the opportunity to let him know that I knew.

"So does Laura," Hawk added with a small mischievous grin.

Before I could interrogate him further about his cute, young assistants, Rubin and Meka were back at the main tent. Rubin spoke excitedly about something.

"... but the silver cross and rosary are gone, sent back to the university for cataloging and protection from the elements. We took pictures of course but I did several drawings too." Rubin walked into the tent, found his backpack and fished out a beat up sketchbook. He opened it to a specific page and presented it to Meka. "That's actual size," he said. 

"It's a fantastic rendering," Meka said. She handed it to me, Hawk came around to look too. The drawing was of a decorative six inch long crucifix done in ink wash with a contrasting black background. The detail was astounding. 

"Rubin, I didn't know you could do this?" Hawk said impressed and perplexed as he coaxed me to turn the pages of the sketchbook. It was filled with page after page of detailed drawings of artifacts apparently found at the site. Most impressive were a series of detailed drawings of a human skeleton half covered in dirt. 

"I didn't think they were very good," Rubin said.

I looked at him, shocked that he even thought that.

Hawk seized a set of work gloves from a work table and slapped Rubin on the back of the head with them. "Stupid head! The drawings are fantastic. I want you to use them in your summery. If you don't, I'll slap you in front of your mother." He waggled the gloves in the guy's face for emphasis. 

Rubin beamed and nodded even as he rubbed the back of his head.

I kept turning the pages in the sketchbook. Rubin had more raw artistic talent then some declared art majors I knew. "Holy shit!" I barked startled by one of the drawings. That weirdness I felt walking into the camp descended on me again. 

"What?" Hawk asked looking back at the sketchbook.

"Holy shit!" he said too.

The drawing I held out to him was of a Venus of Willendorf replica eerily similar to the ones Sally Higgins gave to the Kokuras, Hawk and me not too long ago.

"Did you find this in the dig?" Hawk asked as he took the sketch book from me.

"Weird huh?" Rubin said. "I found the little bronze fetish near the surface on that first day I discovered the grave. It's probably unrelated to the what came after but I cataloged it anyway. I sent it to Honolulu with the first batch of artifacts." Rubin looked perplexed. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Hawk said immediately. "It just looks a lot like an item that both Gwen and I own."

"Sally made several of these," I said. "Guess it's possible one could wind up—" I looked around the dig, "here?" 

"Possible," Hawk said sounding doubtful.

"I have kind of forgotten about it," Rubin said appetizingly. "I Don't know if Rebecca has had it tested yet."

"I'll give the thing a look when I get back to campus," Hawk said. 

"Where do you want me to start taking photos?" Meka asked reminding us why we were here. 

"The second grave," Hawk said to her.

I did my best to shake off my weird feelings. 

Meka sorted through her bags and hung three different cameras on her person and handed me two tripods. With Rubin in the lead, Meka, Hawk and I were led to the so-called grave two. I noted that Hawk's eyes were locked on Meka's khaki shorts all the way over. I nudged him and whispered, "Better raise those receptors, buddy."

Hawk gave me an innocent, 'whatever do you mean' look. 

"It's been raining a lot here," Rubin said explaining the sizable tent covering the grave. He opened the flap to the tent and clicked on the four small electric spotlights clipped to the tent poles. All four spots focused on a rough rectangular hole in the ground. In the hole lay a partially uncovered skeleton, the gray-white bones garishly bright against the reddish dirt. Most of the torso was completely exposed; the eyeless skull lay on its left side with the jaw dropped open in a silent permanent scream. An irregular border of blue string encircled the figure. Meka raised a camera to her eyes.

"Stay outside of the blue line," Rubin advised. When you need to get closer, I'll show you where to step." 

"Can I move the lights?" She asked. Hawk nodded. 

Meka instructed me where to move the spots. She walked around and took her shots. Half an hour later, Meka gingerly squatted over the bones taking close-ups of the skull while I bounced in some light with a reflector. My legs ached in sympathy just watching her hold the precarious position. She reached out a hand and Hawk helped her step away from the bones. 

"We call this one the monsignor because he is older then first body we uncovered," Hawk said. Early test show that he was in his sixties when he died." 

"Looks like a fracture on this side," Meka said pointing at the base of the skull. "And some of these exposed ribs look broken."

Hawk nodded. We exited the tent. Hawk pointed to another tent several yards away. "That's the young monk."

"The one with the silver cross?" Meka asked. Hawk nodded. Sensing the drama of the moment Meka asked Rubin, "What was the condition of the monk?" 

Rubin looked at his boss. After a couple seconds of silence Hawk nodded giving him permission to speak. 

"The back of the monk's head was caved in by blunt force trauma, a blow to the head with a club or smooth rock according to a forensic anthropologist." 

"These could be two murder victims," I stated flatly.

"We think so," Hawk said with a nodded. "We've been keeping that quiet. If word got out there would be people all over the site." 

My skin crawled. 

"When did this all happen?" Meka asked.

"1859, 1860 maybe," Hawk guessed.

Feelings of dread returned. Weirdly, mental images of Twiggy—AKA Charlene Manson—the art department's drawing skeleton, filled my head. Charlene Manson ... what a creepy name. I decided I didn't want to see the young monk.

Chapter 44 Voyeurs

"I'm feeling a little woozy," I told Meka. "Mind if I sit down for a bit?"

"You looked a little odd coming in," Meka said. "Too much sun yesterday?"

I shrugged.

"Rubin, take Meka to the monk," Hawk said. "I'll take Gwen to the main tent to sit."

Rubin took charge of the camera equipment I had carried in and Hawk led me by the hand to the main tent. 

"You okay?" he asked concerned.

"Yeah," I said. "like Meka said, overdid it. Too much sun." I forced smile. "We studio artist are cave dwellers and we usually avoid the light. A sugary drink would do me good right now."

"We have sodas. I'll get you one." 

He settled me in a canvas chair in the main tent and left the tent to get that soda. I saw Rubin's sketchbook sitting open to the Willendorf fetish drawing. Rubin had written a note that said actual size at the bottom. It was exactly the size of the fetishes Sally gave us. 

This is so weird. 

Hawk returned and handed me a Coke. He said, "Security is here. Time to call in the troops." 

Hawk and Rubin rounded up the crew and everyone spent the next hour securing the dig for the night. With all that done, most of the crew and I loaded into a beat up old van with Hawk behind the wheel. Meka followed in her rental car with lucky Rubin in the passenger seat next to her. The tiny caravan pulled into the parking lot of the dorms of the local community collage on Kaahumanu Avenue. Hawk, the crew and I got out of the van. Meka pulled up besides us and Rubin got out.

"You staying?" Meka asked me from the driver's side window. She popped open the hatchback so that Rubin could get his stuff. 

"Hawk has his own room," I said suppressing a sly smile.

Meka returned the smile then drove away with a wave to everyone. 

"She's very nice," Rubin said as we walked to the dorms. 

"I think she may like you," Hawk teased.

"Give me the updated list of the artifacts and I'll e-mail it to Rebecca at the home office," Rubin said choosing to ignore Hawk's comment even as his face tuned a deep red. 

Hawk nodded but his attention was on me, in fact I'm pretty sure he hadn't heard a word Rubin had said. "Um Hawk?" I said, "Rubin asked you for something?" 

"The artifacts list?" Rubin reiterated. 

"Aw fuck!" Hawk barked. "I left my laptop in the main tent." Hawk gave me a narrow eyed look. "Your presents has thrown me off kilter."

"Just doing my job as the girlfriend," I said proudly. 

"'ll go get it," Rubin said.

"No, you have to correlate today's data for Rebecca. She hates it when we're late," Hawk answered. "Gwen and I will go get it and I'll e-mail the list to you from the site." Hawk looked at me and said, "Care for a ride through downtown Wailuku again?" 

"Sure," I said, although I wasn't too keen on going back to the dig at night. 

By the time Hawk and I loaded in the van and drove back to the dig, it was dark. We parked, hiked the hill and walked into the little hidden camp with the aid of a flashlight. As we approached the main tent, two flashlight beams came our way from the security team. 

"It's me Hawk, I forgot my laptop."

Hawk handed me the flashlight and he entered the tent. Seconds later several strings of work lights came on around the camp illuminating the two guards and me. The guards were a male and female team and I noticed that they were a bit disheveled; the pair had been clearly making out just before our arrival. 

"You find what you looking for professor?" the female guard asked as she tucked her shirt into her dark green slacks.

"Got it," Hawk said from inside the tent. "I'm gonna send an e-mail. Be just a second." 

The woman's local accent was thick and there was an annoying edge to her voice that made the fillings in my teeth vibrate. My eyes narrowed. Although I had never meet this woman before in my life, I was absolutely positive I knew who she was—just by that voice.

"Is your name Stephanie Santos?" I asked following my wild hunch.

"Yeah?" She said a little warily. 

This was the woman Matt had fucked in the elevator at the writer's conference in Lahaina. 

"Um, I bought your e-book 'The Body on the Beach,' it was sexy, freaky and creepy. I loved it," I said. And I wasn't lying. On that same night I had read Matt's elevator encounter with Miss Santos, I had Googled her and found out she wrote for an e-book company. I read a sample, liked it and have since become a fan of her short, dark and twisted erotic stories. My praise took her by surprise, she smiled and blushed. 

"You write books?" her fellow guard, a good-looking Hawaiian-Asian guy with dreadlocks and a full beard asked as he discretely checked to make sure the buttons on his shirt were lined up right. 

"Short stories, but you wouldn't know. You too stupid to read," Stephanie said in raspy cruelty. The guy laughed. The barb didn't seem to bother him one bit.

Hawk exited the tent with his laptop. "I sent the list to Rubin we're free to go," he said. His eyes bouncing from the two guards to me. Sensing something was up he asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I said, "I'm hungry I want noodles."

"Sam Sato's is good," Stephanie offered.

"Leave the lights on 'till we get out please," Hawk instructed the guards. 

Stephanie nodded. Hawk and I walked out of the camp.

"What was up with you and the guards?" Hawk asked at the crest of the hill.

"I think we interrupted a private party," I said. "They were making out."

"I was so worried about my laptop that I didn't notice a thing," Hawk said with a laugh. 

"Do you know who that chick is?"

"The security agency sends different people. I haven't got to know any of them."

"That's Stephanie Santos."

Hawk looked at me blankly and shrugged.

"The girl from Matt's elevator adventure at the writer's conference?" 

"Oh," he said with raised eyebrows.

We loaded into the van, Hawk started it up and pulled away, but instead of going back the way we came, he took a different route through a cluster of homes under construction. A minute later, he parked the van to the curb in front of an unfinished house and got out. Puzzled, I followed. He slid open the van's side door and fumbled open a dusty gym bag and held up a set of binoculars.

"Wanna see little Stephanie in action?" he asked with his familiar leer.

"What makes they're back at it?" I asked.

"Matt made her sounded like the kind of girl that finishes what she starts."




Naked Portraits Pt. 08



A warm familiar heat spread through me and I giggled. Hawk and I followed a slim path surrounded by thick growth. 

"This leads around to the other side of the hill were it opens up on a grassy spot overlooking the dig below," he said in a hushed voice.

"This could be pointless if the work lights are off you know," I warned as I stumbled behind him.

"I should request night vision goggles," Hawk said.

"That would be good use of university funds."

"If this offends you we can go back to the van."

"Shut up. I wanna see too."

We arrived at the grassy hill and the glow from below said the work lights were still on. Like in a war movie, Hawk dropped to his belly and I followed suit. Together we crawled to the edge of the hill. Even without the binoculars I could see the hunky Hawaiian guard standing outside the main tent. A few seconds later Stephanie came down the main path into the camp.

"'They're gone," Stephanie said, her raspy voice floated up to us clear as a bell. 

"'I'll kill the work lights," her fellow guard said. 

"Leave 'em on, I like see," Stephanie told him. 

"Good girl," Hawk whispered as he peered through the field glasses at the scene bellow. Facing us, Stephanie started undressing. "This local girl wastes no time." 

"Let me," I whispered reaching for the binoculars. 

Hawk straight-armed me. "Wait your turn," he said. Down below, Stephanie reduced herself to bright white bra and panties. 

"Catch up," Stephanie said to her companion.

"With all this light? I don't know. What if the boss haole come back?" Hunky Hawaiian guard asked. 

"That's the point Manny. Somebody could come anytime," Stephanie said him in loud gravelly pidgin, edged with exasperation. Despite his apparent doubts, Manny started to remove his uniform shirt. 

"I like see," I whispered, slipping into local pidgin my self. I wrenched the binoculars from Hawk. 

By the time I got the thing focused, Manny was down to his briefs and I had a nice view of a well muscled back, tight ass and athletic legs. 

"Dude works out," I said impressed.

I drifted over to Stephanie to admire her too. She was pale and slim but not skinny, her body boasted an attractive muscle tone. Her breasts were smaller then mine but a perfect fit for her slender frame. I remember Matt describing her as elfin in his story. It was an apt depiction. It was easy to imagine her drawing a bow and letting fly at hoards of goblins and orcs. Hawk tried to take the binoculars away from me but I resisted. 

"I'm going back to the van to get my camera," he said. "It has a telescopic lens."

I only half listened as I watched Manny drop his briefs. Turn around I willed him. With her eyes obviously focused on Manny's genitalia, Stephanie walked up to him and they embraced then engaged in a heated uninhibited kiss. Stephanie's pale hands drifted down Manny's muscled back and then down to his tight athletic ass were she gripped a dark brown cheek in each of her hands. The pair swayed and shifted as if they where dancing, and soon Stephanie's back filled my field of vision. Manny's contrasting dark brown hands roamed over pale flesh and white panties.

Hawk crawled up next to me on the grassy hill.

"What did I miss?" he asked as he held the camera to his right eye.

"Not much. They're still in the first clench," I said. 

"Here spread this out," Hawk said handing me a sleeping bag. 

"Plan on spending the night?" I joked.

"For comfort," he whispered. "Were gonna do it as we watch," I heard giddy excitement in his voice. "I see that Manny's naked." I heard the soft whine of the camera's zoom.

I spread the sleeping bag on the grass, then dropped on my belly and looked through the binoculars just as the pair below ended the kiss with Manny's back to me again. Stephanie stepped away from her lover and then unceremoniously unhooked her bra and slid her panties to the ground. 

"Nice," Hawk said. 

I focused on Manny. As nice as his dark brown ass was, I really wanted to see him up front. So far I couldn't even tell if he had an erection.

"Spread the blanket there," Stephanie said pointing at a well lit dry patch of grassy ground. 

Finally, the Manny turned to face me giving me an unimpeded view his naked front. The dude was as hard as advance calculus. I watched enthralled as his erect penis bobbing with each step. At lease seven I estimated. Manny spread a soft pink blanket on the ground. I shifted my view back to Stephanie, now facing me full front. Her nipples were pale and near invisible on her small mounds. The V of hair between her legs was so pale she appeared hairless. 

"This is righteous," Hawk whispered next to me then I heard a distinct whirr and click from the camera.

"Stop that," I hissed. "It's bad enough where watching." 

Hawk put down the camera and then threw himself at me covering my mouth with a hot kiss. Hot to go myself, I answered by rolling on my back, enjoying his crushing weight. Then quickly, we untangled ourselves to checkout what was going on in the camp. 

"'I'll do you while you watch," Hawk whispered.

"No can watch if you do dat," I said thickening my pidgin. 

"You may find this shocking, but I like doing hot babes more then I like watching them get naked."

"Hot babes like Meka?" I asked remembering how he had ogled her butt earlier today. 

Wisely, he didn't answer and coaxed me onto my stomach on the sleeping bag. 

Propped on my elbows, I held the binoculars to my eyes and peered down below. The binoculars brought me in close like I sat on the pink blanket with them. Stephanie and Manny were locked in an embrace, kissing tenderly, hands roving and sliding, each clearly enjoying the simple feel of naked skin. They shifted and Manny lay on his back. Stephanie slid her way down his dark brown body seeking out his bold dark brown erection resting on his dark brown abdomen. 

My mouth unconsciously mimicked hers' as her lips encircled the helmeted head of his erection. I held my breath as she worked all of him down to the base. She certainly could take more down her throat then I ever could making me wondered how much of Matt she had engulfed in that elevator. 

My view jostled as Hawk undid my jeans and slid them down my legs. The sudden cool night air on my exposed legs and panty covered ass felt exhilarating. With the binoculars steady again, I spied Stephanie working Manny's shaft with her mouth and hands. She seemed to be taking pleasure in giving pleasure, no performing, just honest fun lust.

Speaking of lust ... Hawk pulled my flimsy panties down and I giggled when I felt his warm lips on my left butt cheek. "Kiss my ass haole boy," I whispered. I covered my mouth to keep from laughing aloud. As he continued to kiss my backside, Hawk's nimble fingers found my wet opening causing me to bite my lower lip to suppress a moan on top of not laughing. 

Hawk stopped messing with me for a second to remove his shorts so I refocused on the lovers below again. Stephanie sat up and swung a leg over reclined Manny. Her back was to me giving me an intimate view of her right hand holding Manny's erection firmly. I hissed a tiny gasp of erotic sympathy as she lowered herself down on him. 

Then my view shook as Hawk gently coaxed my legs apart. Anticipating his intention, I pooch my butt up. The head of Hawk's rock hard erection briefly brush my clitoris then smoothly entered me to its full length. I gasped again but this time with selfish, sweet, personal pleasure. I tried to hold steady to watch Stephanie raise and lower herself on her lover's shaft. But Hawk's impacts made it impossible to keep the couple in proper view so I dropped the binoculars onto the grass.

On my knees, ass raised high with my face touching the sleeping bag, Hawk slid in and out of me at a steady pace. Inexplicably, thoughts of short hair me from my dream at psych research suddenly filled my head. It took all my focus and will power not to vocalize my pleasure in Japanese like I had done in the dream. But I did let slip one little whisper. "I'm coming," I told him in Japanese.

Hawk's hands crept around and roughly handled my breasts, just the way I like it when I'm coming. I wondered if he had understood me? Then all thoughts washed away as my orgasm hit like a smashing wave. Briefly, Hokusai's famous print, 'Great Wave' filled my head with deep blues and violent white foam. Down in the camp, Stephanie called out as her orgasm followed close on the heels of mine. And unlike me, she didn't have to keep silent.

"Fuckin' yeah!" she yelled out to the night. 

My eyes flickered open. Stephanie had shifted for now she was facing me sitting atop Manny, her hair clung to her face, her naked skin shiny from exertion, her slim chest heaving. It occurred to me that I wasn't looking through the binoculars and yet somehow appeared very close. My point of view was way different. I seemed to be looking at the couple from just inside the main tent because I could see the edges of the tent flaps. Stephanie's head shifted and she looked right at me. My heart lurched, everything swooned, the world went dark ... then I was back on the hill with Hawk moving in and out of me. 

"Fuck me," I said at all the sudden weirdness. 

Hawk took my outburst as encouragement and doubled his efforts. It did the trick it as orgasm number two washed over me. Hawk slowed but didn't stop. As I gasped for air, I fumbled for the binoculars, put them to my eyes and did my best to hold steady. I saw that Manny was sitting in a lotus position looking in our direction ... and Stephanie was nowhere in sight. 

"We're busted!" I barked as loudly as I dared and quickly pulled away from Hawk in mid thrust. I sat up and turned to face him. For a couple of seconds I locked eyes with his wet ridged erection hovering before my face. "If they see us you could lose your job!" 

Hawk's erection twitched violently and started spewing. 

"No make!" I barked. Stupidly, I seized it with both hands and squeezed, trying to stem the sudden violent flow. I barked an insane involuntary laugh as white fluid spattered everywhere. Several warm droplets struck my left cheek and chin. A lot of it got into my hair.

"We gotta go!" I insisted and stood up. We quickly gathered up the sleeping bag, our scattered clothes, the binoculars and camera, and sprinted bottomless to the tree line. Since we were already busted, Hawk clicked on the flashlight to quicken our escape. We worked our way to the van and in a panic, we piled in. We drove several blocks before stopping to finish dressing. As I pulled on my pants, I looked at Hawk and debated telling him of my odd out of body experience.

"You got my jizz all over you," he said.

I grabbed at the rear view mirror to look at the mess. A lot got in my hair. I plucked at the clumps in my bangs. 

"You still hungry for noodles?" Hawk asked absurdly. 

I doubled over with laughter from all the craziness.



Naked Portraits Pt. 09



Notes from the author on part 8:

It was nice to see the return of the rough and tumble tita, Stephanie Santos. She is such a fun character to write. The archeological dig mention in the story is not far from the home of my friend on Maui. He went over to check it out. Apparently it's the real thing. My friend reports that archeologists uncovered a camp established by the Catholic church in the mid eighteen hundreds. I found a website dedicated to the dig. It seems that the fledgling little colony was abandoned after a brutal double homicide that went unsolved. Enough notes. Enjoy part 9.

Thanks.

Eagelwolf. 

**********

Chapter 45 Beers, Coffee, Manapua and the Freak Wave

I lay like a boneless cat on my ratty loveseat sofa looking at my latest painting on my easel. It was a portrait of me, nude (of course) keeling on a nondescript rug in a nondescript dark room looking into a glowing orb in my lap. My face and upper torso is bathed in a greenish-yellow light from the orb. It looked like a scene right out of a Frank Frazetta painting. The glowing orb was designed after the glass net float I had found at the cove on Maui with the symbol of the goddess Li stamped into it. I held the very thing in my hands, absently stroking its barnacle spotted glass surface as I studied my painting. 

The painting was inspired by my brief appearance in Meka's little movie a week ago. 

"What the fuck is that background? And where the hell are you?" I asked.

My painted self didn't answer of course and just stared indifferently at her glowing globe. 

"The male gaze," I whispered aloud although there were no men in the painting, just naked old me. But that's what the orb represented, Meka's camera and the thousands of men watching naked woman in movies, judging, reducing and consuming them with their eyes. 

"Fucking male gaze," I whispered.

I felt a little guilty because I found the idea of men seeing me naked kind of thrilling lately. Explains all the fucking nudes I've been painting I guess. 

My own gaze fell on my new mirror hanging on the back of my studio door. I had grown tired of hauling the big mirror from the drawing studio to my own private studio every time I wanted to do a self portrait—which seemed every other painting lately. My new mirror is the very same mirror that had hung on back of Hawk's dorm room door. Hawk had since moved to a spacious apartment off campus. Anyway, I had developed a fixation with that mirror and asked Hawk if I could have it. He thought me crazy for wanting it, and it had been a bitch to remove too. The cost of a replacement mirror was deducted from his deposit. I had to promise him a painting as payment.

I looked at the reflection of my current painting in the mirror and my heart lunged. The figure was looking out and not down! I twirled around to look at it but it was as I had painted it with the figure's eyes fixed on the globe in her lap. 

"You are creeping yourself out Japanee girl," I said crawling all over with chicken skin. 

The stupid, superstitious part of me blamed the mirror, sure that it was somehow enchanted ... or cursed.

I took the orb painting off my easel and put it in the drying rack. I fished around for a blank canvas but discovered I was out so I went to my reject stack of failed paintings for one to reuse. I fished out a twenty four by thirty six gray abstract from months ago. It was the one where I had slapped a red hand print at the center and then painted a black circle around it. It occurred to me that this was the last abstract I had worked on since moving on to the figurative. I put the old thing on my easel.

"Happy to recycle you," I said. 

As I was about to pry open my bucket of gesso, my cell phone chirped, it was Hawk. I put it to my ear and before I could even say hello, he said, "I need to see you."

"My last class ends at two," I told him.

"Meet you at 2:30 at the gardens," he said and hung up.

Weird, I thought. I looked at the time on my phone. My class started in fifteen minutes so I put off white washing the hand painting and left my studio for my Asian art history class. 

**********

I sat at the gardens killing the last of a pint of Adam's dark enjoying an early afternoon beer buzz. Hawk sat across from me with a beer of his own. 

"Have a good day?" he asked. 

I shrugged. "Finished a painting."

"You bet," Hawk said.

It was clear that he hadn't heard a thing I said so I added, "In a fit of passion, I set fire to my studio then ran naked to the dean's office screaming, I love lau lau and poi!" 

"Huh?" 

"Well at least a part of you is listening."

An odd expression clouded his face and he said, "Wanna take a walk?" 

"Sure," I agreed. But what I really wanted was another pint of Adams to build on my buzz, but his serious mood made me push aside my need. We left the Gardens and walked in the direction of the art building. The Manoa afternoon was mild and perfect. I slipped an arm around his waist, the feel of his solid body against me put me in the mood. We walked pass the art building, then the math department, then astronomy. Just ahead was the Eastern Pacific Building that marked the outer edge of campus. Exchange students from all over Asian and the Pacific were housed in that building. Lately, most of the exchange students were from China. Everyone called the building little Beijing now. 

"Buy you a cup of coffee?" Hawk asked. 

The coffee on campus comes mostly from vending machines and it was all notoriously bad. Hawk steered me to the backside of Little Beijing, I figured there was a vending machine back there somewhere. But to my surprise, the smell of rich gourmet coffee and baked food graced my senses. A green, red and white umbrella cart came into view, beyond it was a circle of concrete picnic tables. 

"Hey sea hawk, howzit," the local guy manning the cart said in greeting. 

"About to get bedda bra with two cups Sumatra," Hawk said in perfect local pidgin. 

When haoles try to speak in pidgin they always sound forced and phony, but not Hawk. If you weren't looking right into his white man's face you would swear you were speaking to a local guy. It not that surprising I guess since the guy speaks five languages. Plus, he's a surfer. Surfers, as a breed, tend to go native wherever the waves are choice. 

The coffee cart guy handed us two steaming cups of Sumatra, I added cream and sugar to mine. We sat at the fairy ring of concrete picnic tables that made me think of Stonehenge. The cart did a brisk business for more then a dozen people were scattered around the other tables, several more customers had lined up after us too.

"I didn't know that this place existed," I said.

"And you still don't," Hawk said with a wink. "The cart's not licensed. The security guard in this part of campus keeps quiet because the cart owner bribes him with free coffee and manapua." 

"Manapua? I knew I smelled something good with all that coffee!" I said looking back at the coffee cart."

"Buy you one?" Hawk asked. 

Having skipped lunch, I nodded emphatically. 

Hawk got up and returned with two warm round white buns the size of a Burger King Whopper and put one before me on a paper napkin.

"Manapua is a local creation that translates literally into—a mountain of pork" Hawk said in his best David Attenborough imitation. "It is a meat pastry made with rice flower and pork filling. The filling is traditionally dyed a bright, sickly florescent red. The origins of the manapua is lost in time but is said to be a bastard mating of Chinese dumplings and Puerto Rican pasteles. The Manapua adapted to the local Hawaiian conditions and thrives to this day, where as other foods, such as the tripe musubi and frozen poi on a stick languished and went extinct." 

Ignoring his stupid commentary, I wolfed down the savory-sweet meat filled bun ... and yes, the filling was a bright red. Hawk pushed the second one in front of me. 

"It's all you girl." 

I gleefully stuffed the second bun into my face. 

Sated, sipping sweetened creamy rich coffee, I looked at Hawk. "What's up haole boy?" I asked. I could tell that he had something he wanted to tell me but was dancing around it.

He took a gulp of coffee and then said, "My day started out kind of off. I went to look for the little bronze figure Rubin had found at the dig but it wasn't in storage were it should have been. I looked everywhere but the thing was just plain old missing. I was really pissed. Losing an artifact is unthinkable and it's all on me since I'm in charge of the dig."

"You think someone stole it?" I asked.

"Never happen before," he said. "Most likely it just got misplaced. It'll turn up ... I hope."

"It's really weird how much it looks like the little fetishes Sally gave us," I said. "Is it possible it's one of statues she gave to the Kokuras?"

"Seems unlikely," he said, "They went back to Japan the day we said goodby. You could email Emiko and ask I guess. And we should ask Sally how many of those little fetishes she made too. Is yours accounted for?"

"Yeah, saw it on my shelf recently." Although it occurred to me that it has been days since I mentally last registered the little carving. 

"And I got mine right here," Hawk said. 

He pulled the four inch bronze figure out of his pocket and clumped it on the concrete table top. I thought it odd he was carrying it. Perhaps he meant to compare it to the one that went missing. He gazed at the thing for a long time. The quiet unnerved me for some reason. A feeling of dread pressed in and I pointlessly thought of my stupid haunted mirror back at my studio. 

"Anyway," Hawk continued, "my whole morning was shot looking for the missing artifact. Thankfully, I didn't have any classes to teach today. Feeling totally off, I drove out to the point to surf away the blues and clear my head. The swells were mellow, nothing big or rough. After a couple of hours, I felt a bit more centered. I called it quits and steered myself to shore." 

He paused and picked up the little bronze and looked at it with a frown. 

"Then it happened, a wave started to form. I could tell it was gonna be a big one. In fact, way too big for the conditions. It was a freak wave no other way to describe it. The thing was tall like skyscraper high. At first I thought it was a tsunami but dumped that idea. I've seen tsunamis and this wave wasn't behaving like one. The gnarly thing was getting taller. On instinct, I made adjustments for the increasing sheerness."

Hawk paused to put down the little statue to take a drink of his coffee. I could tell that he wished it were something stronger. Should have stayed at the Gardens, I thought. He picked up the statue again and continued with an odd distance in his eyes. 

"I knifed down that freak mountain of water. Higher and off to my left I spied another surfer. He saw me too and we both steered to get closer. He was probably thinking what I was thinking—I don't wanna die alone."

"You thought you were gonna die?" I asked a little shocked. I reached over and took both his hands in mine as he still held the little bronze statue. 

"Yeah, I did," he said.

"What happened to that other surfer?" I asked, sure that it was nothing good.

"I kind of knew the guy, A.J. Opelo. He was one of those angry locals who hated haoles on principle. From day one, Opelo made it clear that the water belonged to locals like him and not outsiders like me. Anyway, we were near enough that I could clearly see the fear in his eyes. I bet my favorite board that I had the exact same expression on my face too. I flashed him a shaka sign then steered for the outer edge of the wave and he followed. We both knew this monster wave going to smash down and kill us, but weirdly, along with the fear was hot excitement. Opelo had a maniacal smile on his face, bet I did too. What surfer with honest love of the sport not take some pleasure in the moment, right?"

"Right," I agreed, but I doubt that I would have gotten any pleasure from such a horrid sounding experience. 

"So there we were," Hawk continued, "two guys stripped of all social morays sliding down the side of a liquid cliff. I remember putting a hand out and lovingly brushed the crystal clear water. It was like brushing the smooth curve of your ass or caressing your tits when we make love ... 

He trailed off and went quiet. I knew that surfing turned him on and I liked the fact that I was an an even keel with his affection with the ocean. He seem to find himself and continued speaking. 

"Then the world went white, my body tumbled and rolled wildly, heinously dragged along the sandy bottom."

Hawk went quiet again. 

"Did the A.J. Guy die?" I asked softly.

He blinked, composed himself and continued.

"I was under forever and just when I thought I was done, my head broke the surface. Miraculously, my board was just a few feet away. A.J.'s head broke the surface not too far from me. His board was nowhere in sight though. I swam to my board, clawed my way on it and paddled over to A.J.. He clung to my board as I paddled us in. I was heinously tired and it was slow going. It didn't help that a hot throbbing pain came from my right foot. I figuring I scraped it on some rocks when I hit bottom. Weirdly, the water was glassy smooth like nothing had happened. Ten miserable minutes later A.J and I dragged our bodies onto the beach totally whipped. 

"Fuckin' unreal," A.J. rasped as we lay on our backs in the sand. 

"That's one fuckin' understatement dude," I said to him almost too tired to talk. 

A.J. laughed and said, "Saved by one haole ... fuckin' unreal." 

"A crowed of people, most of them A.J.'s friends, came to our aid. Before he allowed his friends to take him away, A.J. gave me a hug. He probably still hates haoles but I might be okay in his book for a little while. The crowd dispersed with a shaky A.J. in tow." 

"My injured foot reminded me of its existence. I sat in the sand and curled my foot up to see what was the matter. I noticed a shadow across my legs. I looked up and saw a woman looking down at me. She seemed to be wearing the sun like it was her own personal halo. I squinted to get a better look. She dropped to her knees beside me and gave my injured foot a once over. The woman was Asian and yet she had long blond hair. She looked unbelievably exotic. If Marilyn Monroe were an Asian chick, that is how she'd look I thought. She wore a black one-piece suit with light blue chevrons in strategic places."

He went quiet again and I stared at him dumfounded. "Um ... did she help you with you sore foot?" I asked. 

"Physalia physalis," Hawk said with a far away glassy stare.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Physalia physalis. Portuguese man o' war stung my foot she told me. She administered to me as best she could there on the beach. She told me she had something in her car that might take some of the sting away. She helped me to my feet and walked me to the parking lot. She let me lean on her as I limped to her car. The chick was tall. My height I think. Can you believe that? A six-foot tall blonde Asian chick? As she gave me her treatment for a man o' war sting, we got to talking, she's a lecturer here in the biology department. She's not local, her accent sounded Midwest." 

Hawk went quiet and stared at his little bronze Venus. I couldn't help but notice how his thumbs brushed the thing's tiny breasts. "Did this vision have a name?" I asked doing my best to keep my growing jealousy in check. 

"Alyson Reese." He said. He cleared his throat and spoke with less wonder as he finally caught my mood. "We just talked."

"What did you talk about?" I asked stiffly. 

"Us, me you, Matt. You know ... our three way thing."

"And how the hell did that come up in a conversation?" I asked not bothering to hide my growing anger anymore. 

"It just did," he said with a shrug. "We talked about surfing and risky behavior and the freak wave that nearly killed me and A.J." He saw that his near death experience was clearly overshadowed by him flirting with the Asian blond chick. He cleared his throat and lumbered on. "She related some of the wild things she had done and I brought up you and Matt." After a pause, he said, "She seemed intrigued and asked a lot of questions."

"How much did you tell?"

"Enough," he said and sat back to sip his coffee. With his eyes on his paper cup he said, "She seemed really interested in our three way thing." After a long pause he said, "I think she may be more than just curious. I really like what we did with Emiko and Kira. Wanna try something new?" He looked at me gauging my reaction.

My mind raced. A sense of betrayal threatened to overwhelm me, but quickly following on its heels was a hot thrill of excitement. I look into Hawk's face. A microscopic smile barely played at the edges of his mouth. He knew that I'd be interested. And that totally pissed me off.

Chapter 46 Another Woman Another Offering 

"You have to go away right now, "I said. 

Without a word, he snatched up his little Venus and cup of coffee, got up and left the makeshift outdoor coffee house.

I sat mindlessly fuming for a few minutes. Then I decided I needed to talk to an other woman. I pulled out my cell and hit Meka Okuda's number. She answered after four rings. 

"Hey, it's Gwen. Can you put up with my miserable company tonight?" I asked.

"Sure," Meka said. "Where are you?"

"On campus."

"Me too. I'm finishing something at the Commons Gallery. Why don't you meet me there?" 

"Sure." I hung up and made my way back to the art department.

The Common's Gallery is a small display area across form the main art gallery. Unlike the shows in the main gallery that sit for months, the shows in the Common's change every two to three weeks. One side of the Commons is all glass and I stood outside looking in at the wedge shaped space that got wider at the other end away from the door. 

The first thing that caught my eye were four five foot tall bronze replicas of the Venus of Willendorf standing in a neat row resting on low white pedestals. They had to be Sally Higgin's pieces. It was so odd the way her fetishes keep popping in my life lately. 

The four statues, like the little futility figure they were based on, had no arms or legs with the heads almost nonexistent. Buttocks, breasts, abdomens, and thighs were abundant with prominent V's in the vaginal areas. Sally had added her own personal touches with swirling shapes and grooves emanating from strategic areas like nipples, bellybuttons and crotches. The original Willendorf statue that Sally had based her bronzes on was pudgy. Sally used a lot of artistic license and had based her figures around her own sexy shape. As if to prove that point, Sally stood nearby in her signature daisy duke cutoffs and over strained t-shirt. She saw me looking in, smiled and waved. Meka Okuda stood on a short ladder nearby pounding a nail in the wall. I walked into the gallery.

"I still need to properly thank you for sending the Japanese couple my way," Sally said to me. "The money I got from them financed theses gals." She pointed at the second bronze statue in the line. "That belongs to Emiko. After the show I ship her off to Tokyo."

"They're beautiful," I said. "How many of the little ones did you make?"

She pondered and then said, "Five. Two went to the Japanese couple, one to you and one to your hot boyfriend and the last one I gave to Paul." 

I made a mental note to ask Paul about his little bronze when next I saw him. 

Unexpectedly, Sally gave me a huge hug of thanks.

Despite my mood, her unguarded enthusiasm made me smile. At that moment I decided to stop hating the chick.

"Still going the way of the postmodern nude?" Meka asked me from the top of her ladder.




Naked Portraits Pt. 09



"Yeah," I said and cringed as I realized that I've been painting nothing but nudes of myself lately. 

"If Beaumont only knew," Meka said. 

"You can tell Beaumont to take a flying fuck," Sally chimed in. 

Beaumont's contempt for the people down in 3D was no secret. At every budget meeting, she tried to channel funding away from the 3D department claiming that they are way over funded. Fortunately for everyone in ceramics, sculpture and glass blowing, Erma Beaumont didn't control the purse strings of the art department. That power is in the hands of Adrian Makai the galley coordinator. And as much as I wanted to take Sally's advise to tell Beaumont where to get off, I knew I never would. Erma Beaumont terrified me. I think the woman is in league with the dreaded SJMS, the Stern Japanese Mothers Society. 

Meka climbed down the ladder and walked to a large, flat, object wrapped in brown paper leaning nearby. She tore away the paper to reveal a big glossy abstract photo in black and florescent green mounted on thick, black gator board. Then I saw that it wasn't an abstract at all. 

"Holy fuck!" I exclaimed. 

"Now what artist wouldn't be pleased with that emotional reaction," Meka said with a laugh.

"It's that carved statue in Iao Valley on Maui," I said pointing in disbelief at the large photo.

"I'm impressed," Meka said as she climbed up the ladder again. "I'm from Maui and I only discovered her two years ago. I stumbled across her on a nature photo hike. She's been there for years I've been told."

"I met her one night a few months ago," I whispered with my chest tight with emotion. "If it weren't for the glow in the dark paint, I would never have found her."

"You hiked the haunted Iao Valley at night? Lolo!" Meka said.

Sally handed Meka the mounted photo to hang. 

"I'm assuming that lolo means foolish," Sally said.

"Down right stupid," Meka said. 

"It's was Hawk idea, not mine," I added quickly. "How did you get this shot?"

"The old fashion way. I used my old 35mm with very sensitive film. Left the lens open forever. And it felt like forever. Believe me, I couldn't wait to get out of there. Nothing spookier then the Iao Valley at night. I had Deirdre with me. The chick is fearless and made me stay longer to get this." Meka climbed down the ladder and dragged it away. 

Sally tacked on the title card near the piece. I bent to read it.

"Wahine Lani," I read aloud. 

"What does that mean?" Sally asked.

"Woman of Heaven," I translated and looked at the dark but obvious female shape defined by glowing tendrils of green. 

Last time I stumbled across her, my life took an interesting turn. I looked at Sally's bronzes all in a row. I thought of the little fertility bronzes they were based on ... in particular the missing one from the dig. And then I thought of my glass float and Li, goddess of the sea ... and don't forget redheaded Venus from Betty's painting I reminded myself.

"My life seems to be chocked full of goddesses," I whisper. 

"Our part is done here," Sally said, "To the Volcano for beer. I'm buying!"

"I'm for that," Meka said.

"You coming?" Sally asked me.

"Okay."

I helped them clean up and then the three of us left the gallery and walked the few blocks in the warm Honolulu night to the Volcano. Sally's friend, Oleander Wong, was already there with Iceland Erickson and Paul Gleason. Iceland — I can't recall what the guy's actual first name even though I've known him for over two years — is very handsome but as dumb as they come. Paul found my eyes and we smiled. I sat heavily next to him in a bent back wood chair.

"You look like someone killed your dog," Paul said.

"You have to forgiver her," Meka said, "She's shedding her Beaumont abstract expressionist skin." 

Sally, Oleander and Paul nodded in understanding but Iceland Erickson just looked confused. For Iceland's, benefit Meka said, "She's giving up her abstract nonrepresentational style for the postmodern figurative."

"I saw that comin' Paul said knowingly. "Too bad, I liked your abstract stuff it was tough and edgy like early Motherwell and that local Japanese painter Tadashi Sato." 

I beamed at the unexpected depth of Paul's compliment. 

"You now hate abstract art?" Iceland asked. 

"I don't hate it," I said, "Just lately, it's been kind of lacking and unsatisfying." A potent wave of nostalgia for simpler times blanketed me triggering a deep longing for Betty. She was the first person I'd go to with my troubles about art and men. Speaking of men ... my anger at Hawk bubbled to the surface and wished I hadn't come. I wanted private time with Meka not a party.

Sally ordered a round of tequila shots for the table. The shots arrived. 

Sally stood and toasted, "To rich Japanese patrons!" 

We knocked it back. 

"What is wrong with having two opposing styles?" Iceland asked in his thick accent. "Do both and more people will love you."

"You are a bag of hammers," Paul said to him. Iceland frowned unable to decipher the insult. At that instant the music started up. 

"Hey Thor," Oleander said to Iceland, "It's Hammer time. let's dance." The guy frowned even more as the hammer references piled up on him. But the man wasn't a total fool; he got up and followed beautiful, shapely, raven-haired Oleander Wong to the dance floor.

"Those big fuckin' blond dopes always get to dace with the hot chicks," Paul complained.

"I'm a hot chick," Sally said, "ll dance with you."

"Fuckin' charity dance," Paul grumbled, "...but I'll take it." They got up leaving Meka and I alone at the table. 

"Real bad day?" Meka asked.

"Yeah," I said and told her about Hawk's weird wave experience and Alyson Reese."

"I've seen Reese, the chick's hot and taller than me," Meka said. "Because of all that height, the blond hair looks perfect on her even though she's Asian." 

Her observations didn't help my mood one bit. "Gotta be a dye job," I said miserably.

"To be honest, I don't know what to say to you," Meka said. "The things you do are way outside of my experience."

"Meka," I said looking at her dumfounded, "you make private porno movies for rich people. The film you did with the Kahakalohas and Harry was totally wild." 

"I'm just an observer sitting in a corner as the world wanders by, but you are at the center of the real baby girl." Meka said giving me a surprising look of envy. "You have two men at your beck and call. You wife swap with hot Japanese swingers. You stumbling across a mysterious forest goddess in the dark of the night. I'm assuming you were naked at the time. And not to mention making out with famous sports lesbian Li Hong." 

"For the record, I was fully dressed when we found Wahine Lani," I said. 

"And?" Meka asked sure there was more to it.

"Hawk did make love to me in at her feet." I added demurely.

"Oh my God!" Meka said, dramatically shaking her hands at me. "Right there, on your back in the dirt?" 

I had to laugh at her reaction and then promptly added, "No, I was on my hands and knees as he took me from behind ... and then I let him come in my mouth."

"Christ girl! Compared to you, I 'm a fucking nun!" 

I laughed some more. My head buzzed from the tequila and I pushed my near finished beer away. "I shouldn't drink too much," I said. "Not a good idea in my current state. I'm need to find Hawk and talk this out. But I don't wanna be rude to Sally. She's been so nice to me tonight." 

"Go, I'll tell Sally you had a a family thing," Meka said. I leaned over and hugged her. 

I left the pub. As I ambled back toward campus, I dialed Hawk cell but was sent to a recorded message. I called Matt next but got the same. I wondered if they had gotten together and were talking about me or more to the point, Alyson Reese. With jumbled thoughts, I found myself standing outside the Common's gallery looking in at Meka and Sally's goddesses. Meka's large photograph reflected the dim corridor lights from outside the gallery and it was hard to make out the image in the weak light. Sally's four bronzes looked like stoney shadowy lumps. 

"Time for another offering," I said aloud. 

I walked into the thicket of live bamboo growing around the main gallery to a patch of ti plants near the back entrance. After liberating two paddle shaped leaves, I headed in the direction of the staircase leading to the upper floors. As I climbed the stairs, a hot excitement gripped me and I sprinted up the last few flights. I tuned the corner that led to my studio door at a clip but slid to a halt when I saw a woman standing in front of my door. She wore sexy black tights, a black loose, long sleeve shirt and expensive laced, leather boots, and strangely, a 49ers baseball cap. 

Betty owned boots just like that and for a second I thought it might be her. But as I advanced at a slow walk I saw that it wasn't Betty. "Can I help you?" I asked. 

The woman yelped and turned to face me. She had long dark hair tied in a ponytail. Even with the baseball cap and sunglasses she wore, I could tell she was Asian and very pretty. She looked totally flustered though. 

"I'm in the wrong part of the building, sorry," she said in an accent that sounded vaguely European ... and a little bit phony. She turned and walked in the opposite direction away from me. 

I got all goose bumpy as I got out my keys. I opened the my studio door, stepped in quickly and closed the door behind me. Something about that woman creeped me out. Breathing a little hard from sprinting up the stairs, I stood in the dark to gather myself. My little studio has three ventilation windows up high and enough light from the hall got in to define the edges of things. Something in the darkness seemed desperate to get my attention. I strained to make it out. Whatever it was seemed foreign, totally out of place. I clicked on the lights and burst out laughing when I saw it was the abstract painting with the red hand in a black circle at the center. I had forgotten that I had pulled it out earlier to gesso over it. 

Anger at the painting flushed through me. "You look better in the dark," I said. The anger was misplaced, it was Erma Beaumont and her sterile, modernest regime that I was pissed off at. I wasted years of my life following her. Should have listened to Betty. I banged open my desk drawer and pulled out a snap off box cutter and extended the gleaming blade to its fullest. Like a madman in a slasher film, I plunged the blade through the painting and was rewarded with a satisfying ripping hiss. I cut out a rough square around the hand at the center, the only part of the painting I thought worth keeping. I haphazardly cast the damaged canvas aside and put the cutout hand on my work table. 

"I'm gonna offer you to the gods," I said.

I searched my desk and came across an unopened wooden box of compressed drawing charcoal. The charcoal was an Italian brand, very expensive, something I never would have bought. It was a hand me down from Betty. Badgering, from her evil mother made Betty quit art for business school and she gave me all of her art supplies. 

"Spineless bitch," I whispered seemingly pissed at every thing in my life lately. I slid the lid off the box and unceremoniously dumped the individually wrapped sticks of charcoal onto my worktable. I folded the cutout hand into the little box and set it on my desk. With a jolt of contempt, I spat onto the box. 

"Out with the old," I said. 

Although I was raised a Shinto, I'm very failure with tales from the Bible and remembered the story of Adam's sons Cain and Able. Both sons had made offerings to God. Able, a sheepherder, gave his best lamb. Cain, the farmer, offered up his leavings and held back the good stuff for himself. God of course, shunned Cain and praised Able. 

"One of my best lambs," I said aloud and went to my painting rack to sort through my art. I came upon the sixteen by twenty portrait of short hair me from my dreams. "I love this painting," I said aloud. 

I picked up the box knife, it clicked ominously as I extended the blade to its fullest again. With a lump in my throat, I pierced the canvas. This time I got no satisfaction from the tearing sound. Slowly, I cut a rough rectangle around both eyes. Reverently, I put the detached eyes in the box on top of the scrap of the abstract hand. 

"In with the new," I said.

I looked around for anything else that might fit into the offering box and my eyes rested on my coffee can full of brushes. My favorite fan brush, an old worrier that I've relied on for years stood out. It was an expensive tool, the only hundred dollar brush I owned, and of course it was another hand me down from Betty. A pang of loneliness gripped my chest, followed by impotent anger. 

"Why aren't you here?" I grumbled at my missing friend

I plucked the fan brush from the coffee can and with the box knife, shaved the beautiful thing bald and put the leavings into the charcoal box with the cut strips of canvas. Brutally, I snapped the handle several times, and shoved the pieces in the box too. As I wrapped my makeshift offering with a ti leaf, I recalled that Cain had murdered his brother Able in a jealous rage thus creating Christian-Judas's first domestic violence case. 

"I'm right there with you Cain. Being shunned sucks sweaty balls."

With my neat green bundle in hand, I went downstairs and stood outside the common's gallery looking in at the art. Of the goddesses in the gallery I felt that Wahine Lani, Meka's photo of the wooden forest goddess, was the ringleader. 

I walked to the door and shook it proving to myself it was locked. 

My plan was to leave the offering at the door but quickly realized that would be dumb. It would just get thrown away by the first janitor that saw it. "The master criminal strikes," I said aloud and had to laugh at my poorly conceived plan. Running on emotion, I never thought beyond creating my offering. I'll have to come back tomorrow to sneak the thing in and that would be tricky in broad daylight I knew. Odds are I'd never do it. 

"Hey Gwen," came a male voice from behind me. I spun and screamed. As the echoes of my scream faded in the empty open air hall, I found myself looking at a wide-eyed Paul Gleason standing a few feet away with his bike at his side, theatrically clutching his chest. 

"You scared the shit out of me woman!" he barked. 

"What the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me like that?" I asked with my heart slamming away.

"I saw you try the door," he said. "You need to get in for something?" He eyed the green bundle in my hand.

Seeing no sense in hiding it, I held it out to him. "I wanted to put this in there."

"What is it?"

"A religious offering," I said simply and waited for a barrage of questions. None came though, and all he did was pull out a set of keys and jingled them.

"I sit the gallery on Monday mornings." he said as he parked his bike against the front window. He stepped passed me and turned the lock of the commons gallery door. 

"My hero," I said with a small appreciative smile and stepped into the shadowy space. I put the offering on the parquet floor at the foot of Meka's photo of Wahine Lani. 

"The floor ain't no place for a religious offering," Paul said. I agreed and picked the thing up. Paul grabbed the visitor's sign in book off its pedestal near the door and put it on the tiny reception desk. He moved the pedestal under Meka's photo. He stepped aside and I placed my offering on the pedestal, it was at a perfect height just a couple of inches below the photo. 

Seal it with a kiss! a voice in my head said. I've gotten to know that voice all too well lately, it came from the part of my brain in charge of all things sexually inappropriate. I've taken to calling the voice my lizard brain. 

I picked up the bundle and pecked a kiss on it. Paul gave me a curious look. A spike of hot sexual intensity enveloped me. I looked at Paul and thoughts of him from months ago sitting outside the main gallery in the dark, smoking a cigarette, watching me make love to Matt, filled my head.

You know what to do, lizard brain told me. 

I handed Paul the bundle and said, "Hold this." He took it and before he could say a thing, I stepped up to him and covered his mouth with a kiss. He tasted of beer and tobacco. His arms enveloped me pulling me in close. I shimmied in closer too, enjoying the feel of his slim wiry body against me. He smelled of Old Spice cologne, cigarettes and a sweaty day in the sculpture yard, all of it adding up to a heady manliness. I slipped a hand down low to explore his full blown erection. He returned the favor and pawed at my tits. Then I rudely broke the kiss, grabbed the bundle from his hand, stepped away from him.

"That was just a part of the offering," I said. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea." 

"I can't see how I could misinterpret that in anyway," he said, in a cartoon squeaky voice. I had clearly rattled him. I did my best to hold back a smile. 

I put the my offering on the pedestal and we left the gallery. He locked the door and then turned to face me.

"Goodnight," I said firmly.

He gave a small bow, turned and walked away. 

"Paul?" I said softly at his retreating back. 

He stopped and looked back at me with desperate hope. 

Before my lizard brain could take charge, I said, "You forgot your bike," and pointed at it. 

"Oh that," he said with a laugh and went to retrieve the bike leaning against the gallery's front window. "So much for a dignified manly exit," he said sheepishly. As he mounted his bike he asked, "How goes the dream therapy?" like it was the only thing on his mind.

"I went just that one time. Don't think I'm going back," I said honestly.

Paul nodded then rolled away with that distinct clicking sound that ten speed bikes make. The clicking echoed in the empty hall fading with distance. I turned to look back into the shadowy interior of the commons gallery and at my makeshift offering on the pedestal and wondered if I was losing my mind.

"Probably," I whispered. "Now it's time to track down Hawk and have a serious talk about Alyson Reese." 

*********

Hawk's warm mouth covered my right nipple, his teeth slowly clamping down staying—just barely—on the pleasurable side of pain. Jolts of sensual electricity raced through my body starting at my gently abused nipple. Matt watched, sitting on the edge of the bed cross-legged dressed in jeans and a t-shirt wearing a 49ers baseball cap, which was odd because he was a Cleveland Browns fan. Hawk was dressed too, in a red silk aloha shirt and jeans. I on the other hand, was gloriously naked and Edouard Manet's 'Lunched on the Grass' flashed through my head. 

Alyson Reese, tall blonde and Asian, stood in the doorway of Hawk's master bedroom watching too. She looked more little like a pale Jessica Alba than Marilyn Monroe I thought. She had just come from the biology department and still wore her white lab coat over a light blue top and snug white slacks. Hawk released my nipple from his gentle vice and peppered my chest and neck with kisses. 

I have to admit that I was turned on to no end with Alyson watching. With no pretense at hiding my state of arousal I said, "Fuck me Matt." 

Matt stood up. From the bed. "Help him get naked," I said to Alyson. Alyson Reese officially entered the room and helped Matt undress. "You okay with this?" I asked her.

"It's cool, I'm a scientist," she said ... like it made total sense but of course it didn't. 

When Matt was fully naked, Alyson studied his taunt erection, delicately running her fingers along the pale velvety shaft. I could tell that she was impressed by his size. 

"I believe that is meant for me?" I said with a lover's confidence.

She stepped aside allowing Matt to drop to the bed and crawl on top of me. He gripped his erection and guided it to my moist opening. He entered me with one smooth efficient thrust. I gasped at his sweet invasion. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 09



I looked up to see Alyson standing over us looking down. Hawk got up and stood beside her. They were the same height ... the chick was impossibly tall. She remove her white lab coat. Hawk slipped behind her and buried his face in her blond hair breathing in her scent ... a move he's done with me a thousand times before. A pang of jealousy gripped me as he pushed her hair aside and kissed her creamy smooth neck. I watched with jealous fascination as he helped her out of her top, slacks, bra and panties. The chick was spectacular naked. Her flawless desirable body seemed to glow from within. 

"You're beautiful," I told her. Too beautiful, I thought seconds later. 

She made me feel inadequate with my tiny chest and slim frame. Matt started to move his hips creating a sweet friction. I closed my eyes to enjoy his attentions. Each thrust of Matt's hips sent ripples of pleasure through me but everything seemed off tonight; feelings were jumbled, overlapping and confusing. Alyson was clearly disrupting the flow. 

Then weirdly, I smelled damp earth and I opened my eyes to find Paul Gleason's face hovering above me. Somehow I had misplaces Matt. I looked around for him in confusion ... then my lizard brain said, 'Paul feel real nice in us.' 

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea about this," I warned him.

"I can't see how I could possibly misinterpret this?" he said as he started to thrust his hips making me gasp with each fleshy impact. 

Naked Alyson Reese stood nearby in my darken studio. Dappled light from the ventilation windows high up crisscrossed her voluptuous curvy body. The weak dirty light made her look like one of Sally's bronze Venuses. She stepped closer and I saw that her skin was grayish brown and lined with wood grain, her hair seemed solid as if carved of light oak. Around her bellybutton was a black circle with a red hand print at it's center.

"Stay away from Hawk," I told her. 

"LOLO!" she said to me quite rudely. For some reason she sounded like Betty.

"I'm not stupid!" I yelled at her. 

Paul no longer lay on top of me. He stood nearby, fully dressed in a tang top and baggy shorts holding his bike by the handles. Alyson stood beside him, her skin gray-brown woody look. Then I realized that this wasn't Alyson Reese ... it was the forest goddess Wahine Lani! 

Annoyed that Paul was no longer fucking me, I said, "I'm not done him!" 

Both of them receded into the darkness of my studio with Paul's bike clicking indifferently. I got up to followed but found myself kneeling naked before Hawk stroking his long sleek erection. A naked Li Hong floated nearby like she was underwater, all pale blue-white and eerie, her hair black-blue floated around her head like an inky cloud. She held Meka's video camera to one eye filming the action. Hawk gasped and started spewing warm white jizz at me. Annoyed, I made a grab at his erection to stem the flow but his messy seed spattered everywhere: on my face in my long dark hair, on my arms and chest.

"Sorry for the mess," I said looking up at him

"Beats being stung by a Portuguese man o' war," he said.

That I had to agree with. 

I got up and headed for the flight of stairs to get to my studio to clean up. Covered with Hawk's semen, I felt uncomfortable and filthy, but yet, excited at the same time. Coming down the stairs were Stephanie Santos; naked pale, slim and elfin, accompanied by Iceland Erickson dressed in a green security guard uniform with gleaming silver badges. 

"You like watch?" Stephanie asked in her guttural harsh local accent. 

Iceland's hands crept around and cupped her small breasts. "Not too bad for a hammer ya?" he said sounding lake Arnold Schwarzenegger. Was he still Governor of California? I wondered pointlessly. 

Ashamed of my messy appearance, I sprinted up the rest of the stairs. I got promptly lost in the rabbit warren of halls in the grad student section. With every turn, I encountered one of Sally's bronze statues. The corridors ... and statues seem to go on forever and with every turn my panic grew. Around one corner I encountered Alyson Reese—or was it Jessica Alba?—going down on Harry and Rudy the Hawaiian hunks from Meka's movie. Alyson popped an erection from her mouth and gave me a sweet smile that I felt compelled to return. 

"You wanna fuck these guys?" she asked.

Meka appeared out of nowhere ... I was so glad to see her. 

"I can make you a star," she said. Her long wavy hair undulated and moved like it were alive. She handed me the glass net float from Maui. Naked, I sat in lotus position right in the corridor and plopped the net float in my lap. Images of the Hawaiian hunks fucking me from all kinds of cool angles filled the globe. Although I was just watching, I could feel hard dicks pushing at me ... bodies pressing against me ... lips on my flesh everywhere. The money shot arrived and in the globe, short hair me from Betty's painting knelt on the floor with her back to me. The two Hawaiian hunks, gripping their velvety, brown, hard cocks, flanked her and aimed the tips at her face. In tacky movie slow motion, jets of white stuff flew at short hair's head. I couldn't tell how she was receiving the mess because her back was still to me. Then slowly, she turned to face me. I screamed! There was a blank rectangular space where her eyes should have been. 

... I sat up in my bed in my Waikiki apartment. 

"What the fuck!" I yelled.

After gathering myself, I got out of bed and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Before coming home, I had found Hawk and we had talked things over. I decided to meet Alyson Reese next Friday. I told Hawk that I wanted to be the one to bring it up with Matt. Hawk had student papers to read so he drove me home. 

"No more manapua and tequila before bedtime," I scolded myself. I let out a humorless laugh and said, "I'm glad I don't have to report that ripe Freudian mess of a dream to doctor Ling and the psych department." 

I slipped back into bed. The vivid intensity of the dream dissipated as I fell back to sleep. No more dreams of debauchery, blond Asian Amazons or goddesses bothered me for the rest of the night.

Chapter 47 Break In and Surveillance 

I sat on the ratty loveseat in my tiny little studio staring at the confusing mess of a painting on my easel. It was a self-portrait with Edouard Manet's Luncheon on the grass in mind. The female figure (me) sat totally nude, her body in profile staring out of the canvas. Hawk and Matt were the models for the two male figures. Hawk sat behind me in a loud ,silky, red aloha shirt, Matt reclined in a Cleveland Indian's ball cap, jeans and a black t-shirt. I had no idea what inspired me to paint this parade, but here it was. The painting was skillfully done but lacked heart, purpose, and most of all passion. 

Nothing I did on the thing worked. I threw down my brush in frustration. "So much for pagan offerings," I groused.

After cleaning off my brushes, I grabbed my backpack and headed to the stairwell. At the ground floor I made a beeline to the art office. It was the first Monday of the month and my pay check for teacher's aid should be in my mail slot. I stopped walking when I remembered that on Monday mornings Paul Gleason attends the Common's gallery.

I groaned, embarrassed about kissing him the way I had on Friday night. 

"Stupid lizard brain," I said and promised no more pagan offerings after tequila shots from here on out. I turned tail and took a round about route to the art office to bypass the commons. 

I slipped into the art office. My eyes fell briefly on the still life painting of coffee, cake and newspaper that adorned the entryway. Ever since I officially noticed the painting a few months ago I feel compelled to look at it whenever I entered. The simple still life has more spit and passion than my painting up stairs. 

"Hello," the sweet but stern voice of Sandy Agato, the head secretary of the art office greeted me. Sandy is Japanese, in her mid sixties and is the undisputed alpha female of the art department. Students, and even department heads, gave her a wide birth. 

"Your check is on my desk deer," Sandy said. "And by the way, you still haven't returned your spare studio key."

"What do you mean?" I asked in total confusion.

"You said you left your key at home and asked for the spare," Sandy said.

My heart skipped remembering the unknown woman at my studio door last night. But what do I have worth stealing? 

"I didn't ask for the key yesterday," I said slowly.

"Not yesterday, at the beginning of the semester," Sandy said like she was correcting a child. "I've been meaning to ask you about it. I just keep forgetting." 

I relaxed for no one was trying to break into my studio and steal my stuff. Sandy was simply mistaken about the key. Too culturally entrenched to correct an elder, I simply nodded, plus I was deathly afraid of the woman ... yeah, I know, what a wimp.

Sandy nodded back and I followed her to her desk to get my check.

"I haven't had time to put the checks in the mail slots because of all the excitement." 

"What excitement?" I asked.

"Someone broke into the commons gallery last night," she said as she shuffled through the stack of envelopes. "Security was here most the morning," Sandy handed me the envelope with my name on it. 

Positive that she could see the guilt in my eyes, I avoided looking her in the face and made a big deal of opening the envelope and studying my check. With a lump in my throat I asked, "They know who did it?" I was totally freaked, sure that I had gotten Paul in serious trouble. Then panic gripped my heart as I thought of hidden security cameras.

"No," Sandy said, "Whoever broke in had a key. 

My heart sank, this will all point right at Paul. I better let her know that the whole thing was my idea.

"Almost every instructor and half the grads have keys," Sandy said. "Nothing was broken or taken. But Adrian has decided to change the locks on both galleries. Adrian will have to keep better track of who has keys in the future."

"Sound's expensive," I said doubly avoiding her eyes, but relieved that no one was pointing a finger at Paul.

"Gotta be done. That's why I asked about your spare key since keys were on my mind," she said with a shrug. "They think it may have been one of the Hawaiian activist students making some kind of religious statement. There was a ti leaf wrapped offering found in the gallery. I wonder if the Christian groups have gotten wind of this?" There was definitely a twinkle in her eyes as she mentioned the Christian groups.

A year ago, a show, featuring art from lesbian and gay arts from all over the state opened in the main gallery. An ultra conservative student Christian group decided to flex some muscle. The group marched to the doors of the main art gallery and tried to stop people from entering the show. Sandy single handily cleared out the protesters sending them running with their intolerant tails between their legs. She is now considered a living saint in the eyes of the campus's gay and lesbian communities. Whether or not Sandy gives a hoot about gay and lesbian art is neither here nor there. Simply, Nobody fucks with her art department.

The compulsive need to confess all my sins to the woman gripped me. Before I started flapping my tongue, I cleared out quick. I went in the opposite direction of the commons gallery. The old cliché about how criminals always return to the scene of the crime prompted me to pick up the pace. Also, I was still avoiding Paul because of the kiss thing. Five minutes later, I slipped into my advanced art history class and sat in the last row.

The lecture was on Picasso's years in France during the Nazi occupation. I didn't hear a thing the teacher was saying because Alyson Reese had returned to the forefront of my crowded brain. I was now regretting the decision to meet the woman. This wasn't like Emiko and Kira. Emiko was Married and deeply in love with her husband. Alyson was unattached ... and according to all accounts, beautiful. A panic seized me for the thought of letting her have her way with Hawk and Matt totally freaked me out. 

In mid lecture, I slipped out and headed in the direction of the biology department. After wandering around a bit I found what I was looking for, a bulletin board with the postings of all the biology lab locations and instructor's names. I looked for the name Reese and found it; she had a bio lab coming up in twenty minutes in lab 6A. 

Lab 6A was squeaky-clean smelling of cleanser and rubbing alcohol. Several long, heavy, white linoleum tables lined the room; all chairs faced a wall dominated by a white dry-erase marker board. I took a seat at a table nearest the door. My plan was to get a quick glimpse of Reese and then bolt. 

The class filled with each passing minute. A Filipino girl sat next to me. She was young, perhaps a freshman, pretty but on the skinny side. She looked familiar. She caught me looking and I quickly looked away. As I hunted the dusty corners of my brain as to where I've seen the girl before, a bang, like a dropped cooking pot startled me from my thoughts. It came form out in the hall. A rhythmic metallic clacking followed the bang. Seconds later, Alyson Reese entered the room pushing a cart stacked precariously high with white metal trays. Since I was nearest the door, she unceremoniously dropped a tray in front of me first. In the tray were two brown, egg size hairy balls, a scalpel and three kinds of tweezers. She then handed me a stack of papers. 

"Pass these out for me will you?" She asked hardly looking at me and went about plopping trays in front of every other student in the class. "Two people per tray please," Reese instructed. "One will dissect and one will take notes and draw. Switch off if you like, up to you. But everyone needs to turn in their own worksheet." 

I got up and handed out the work sheets. From the corners of my eyes I watched Reese move about the room handing out the trays. She was impossibly tall for an Asian girl with shoulder length sun streaked blonde hair. No way she's a natural, it had to be a dye job, although I had to admit she pulled it off well. The chick was stunning. Even in her lab coat and slacks I could tell she had a full spectacular figure. My vision of her looking like Jessica Alba was way off, Hawk's comparison to Marilyn Moore was much closer. I handed out the last worksheet and headed to my seat. I needed to get out before Reese got a good look at me. I picked up my backpack and made to leave.

"Notes or cut?" the Filipino girl asked shyly in accented English. I looked around and noticed everyone had already partnered up and she was the odd girl out. She gave me such a sad puppy dog look that I just couldn't bring myself to abandon her.

I sighed. "You cut first," I said sitting back down. The class was large, my face one of many. If I avoid getting up and doing the hula on the table, Reese won't remember me. 

From the front of the class, Alyson Reese started the lesson.

"What you have in front of you is an owl pellet. It is the regurgitated remains of the owl's meal, stuff the bird's stomach cannot digest like hair and bones." 

I looked at the Filipino girl and she at me and we made the same yucky face. 

Alyson continued. 

"I want you to take the pellet apart and catalog the bones. you get extra points for correctly identifying a bone. For anyone who finds a skull, you get a frozen ice cream bar stored next to the frozen chicken heads in the lab freezer." 

The class laughed.

"What if I want a chicken head instead?" a young man asked from up front. 

"Honestly Ralph, you Chinese will eat anything," Alyson said to the young man. 

The class laughed again including me. 

My impromptu lab partner got to work cutting up the owl pellet. The hairy clumps pulled apart easily so she abandoned the scalpel for two pairs of tweezers. She held up a tiny bone for me to see. Years of drawing the human anatomy kicked in, I was sure I was looking at some tiny animal's equivalent to the human thighbone. I even remembered the scientific name for it and wrote it down next to my pencil sketch. Soon, a whole array of bones were lined up on the surface of the linoleum worktable. 

My lab partner gasped and then said, "Look," as she held out a delicate tiny skull. "We get ice cream!" she said in Filipino accent excitement. 

I did a small quick sketch of the skull on the lab sheet. I liked my little drawing so much that I broke out my 9 x 12 sketchbook and went to work on a larger drawing of the thing with a charcoal pencil.

"You draw good." my lab partner said. I heard awe in her voice like I was doing magic. 

"Art major," I said with a shrug.

"Those drawings are very accurate," came a deep female voice from behind us. 

I turned and looked up into the face of tall, blonde and beautiful, Alyson Reese. Busted. I may as well have done the hula on the table. 

"You know your bones too," she added looking at my lab sheet. She glanced at the array of bones on the tabletop. "You got several animals here, the delicate bones are some kind of mouse. The hardier ones are voles, so is the skull." She gave us both a warm smile and moved on. 

"Do you have a regular lab partner?" the Filipino girl asked.

"I'm not enrolled in this class. I came here to, um ... check something out," I said honestly. 

"Oh, too bad," the girl said with a sad pout. 

"There are disposal cans up front," Alyson said from the front of the class, "One for pellet remains and one for the bones."

"What if we like keep em?" someone asked. I think it was the same guy who asked about the chicken heads. 

"As long as you don't eat them," Alyson said. The class laughed. Then the noise level heightened as people made to leave. Alyson shouted over the noise, "Leave your lab sheets and make sure your names are on them. Skull people, come get your ice cream bars!" 

The Filipino girl stared at my drawing of the vole's skull. She seemed so impressed. 

"I'll give you the charcoal drawing if you let me keep the skull and go get my ice cream," I said. 

"Really? I can have it?" she asked with awe. 

I tore the drawing from my sketch book and signed it G. Yoshimura. 

With ice cream in hand, I bolted from the scene. How the fuck was I going to explain my sudden presents in her class next Friday night, I didn't know. Maybe she won't remember me. I could only hope.

Chapter 48 Meeting Alyson Reese 

I staring at my version of Manet's 'Luncheon On the Grass' finally satisfied with it. I had exaggerated the length and flow of my long hair pushing it to the black side of brown. It was the hair that did it for me. Too much identity and mystique is tied up in an Asian girls hair. That thought was a left over my angry young feminist days. I wonder if blonds have the same problem?

That thought took me to Alyson Reese and my covert blundering. A heated feeling of betrayal aimed at Hawk followed. For most the week, I waffled from liking the idea of adding the chick into the mix to loathing it. At the moment, I was in loath mode.

I looked over at Matt stretched out as best he could on my studio's ratty loveseat. Lately he has been distracted and kind of morose. He's working on a couple of stories and claims that writing does that to him sometimes. Knowing exactly how he felt, I tolerated the moodiness. 

Hawk wanted to tell Matt about the Reese girl but I insisted that he let me. The whole week drifted by and I haven't said a thing and now we were set to meet the girl in one hour. I should have let Hawk do it; I'm such an idiot. 

Matt asked a question braking my reserve.

"If your hair has such a stigma or prison like you said, why don't you cut it or dye it?" 

He and I had been discussing the mystique behind an Asian woman's hair just minutes ago. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 09



"Sometimes we artists need our mental prisons to help us create," I said looking at the painting. But in reality, I have always worn my hear long and can't imagine me any other way. Except in my dreams I thought. My eyes went to the corner of my studio where Betty's portrait of me with short reddish brown hair was stored. Not to mention the desiccated portrait with the eyes cut out. For no logical reason, I have kept both paintings a secret from Hawk and Matt.

Speaking of Matt. I have to bring up the Reese chick or he's gong to be seriously ambushed.

"Do you know of a woman named Alyson Reese?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "She's sort of a legend in the biology department. Is she a prisoner of her hair too?" 

"Legend? How?" I asked. 

"She's a knockout. On the lines of a Victoria's Secret model." 

"Really? She's that attractive?" I asked trying to sound casual but couldn't hide my annoyance at his apt description of the woman. 

"She's tall, about six foot, blond, shapely, nice boobs, and oddly, Asian." 

"You seem to know a lot about her," I stated flatly as some of my irritation oozed out. 

"I had her in bio lab last semester. Why are you asking about her?" He caught that my mood had shifted and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. 

"Hawk's been kinda seeing her for the last two weeks," I lied. 

"No way!" he said immediately. He saw that I was serious. "Really?" 

I put down the brush I was tooling with and stood intently staring at my painting. 

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"No, I'm not okay!" I snapped. 

I aggressively loaded my brush with black paint then mixed in a blob of yellow creating an ugly gray green. I wanted to paint over Hawk's face but the impulse passed and I put the brush down. "How do you feel about Hawk cheating?" I asked. 

"Why didn't he tell me?" 

That was not the answer I had expected. I had assumed that Matt would jump at the chance of have me all to himself. Then I felt guilty for lying about Hawk cheating. 

"I'm sorry, I lied. Hawk isn't seeing her. They met in an odd way and they talked a little. He wants to bring her in our little circle. He wanted to tell you but I insisted on telling you myself."

Matt stayed quiet. 

"I need to know how you feel about this," I asked him gently. "Hawk's left it up to us to decide." 

"What the three of us have is ... neat," he said with his eyes on the floor. "Bringing another person in would change that." 

This reaction was so unexpected that I barked a laugh startling him from his thoughts. "You're so odd!" I said. "I thought you'd be allover this Alyson thing. I went to the bio department to check her out, the chick's a fucking super model." 

"I like what we have," he answered in a barely audible voice. "I don't what to lose that." 

"You're sweet," I said and sat next to him on the loveseat and lightly kissed him on the mouth. I went from loathing Alyson to liking the idea of bring in again. "Let Hawk bring her in. It sounds exciting," I kissed him cheek. "How would you like Alyson Reese to do this to you?" I straddled his lap, aggressively seized his head and rubbed his face between my breasts. 

"Intriguing," he said in a muffled voice. 

I laughed and kissed the top of his head. 

"Come on let's go and meet her," I said as I pulled his face free of my breasts. 

"Now?" 

"Yeah, at the Volcano."

"Thanks for the advance notice. I look like shit!"

Mat stood up and looked at himself in Hawk's old mirror on the back of my studio door. He ran his finger through his longish hair and stroked his beard. The guy was letting go of the mainland grunge look and was slowly adapting to island attire. He wore a plain dark-blue t-shirt and khaki suffer jams with a mauve stripe running down the sides and casual leather slippers. The only evidence of his grunge past was the plaid short sleeve shirt he wore over everything but that was acceptable as long as he kept it unbuttoned.

"Let's go," he said apparently satisfied with the way he looked. I shook my head at how quickly men deemed themselves worthy for public viewing. 

"Don't over do it," I said sarcastically. "Sit, I'm going to put on some makeup and nice clothes." Matt sat down and watched me strip down to matching light blue, silk panties and bra.

"Wow, matching underwear," he said. "Didn't know you owned a pair." He reached out to touch me.

"Shut up," I said as I slapped his hand away. I pulled out my seldom used makeup kit from my backpack, stepped up to the the mirror and took the time to applied some eye makeup, blush and lipstick. Matt's reflection watching me with wonder. 

"Women make themselves look good for other women more often then we do for men," I explained.

"You have such a perfect ass," he said with his eyes focused on my said 'perfect ass.'

"Makes up for my near nothing tits," I said as I put on a pair of silver and pick coral earrings.

"You're a high end B. That's hardly nothing," he said. He leaned back on the loveseat, kicked off a leather slipper and brushed the back of my left calf with the top side of his foot.

"No make," I said with a half smile and focused on putting on a necklace that matched the earrings.

His foot rose up to my soft inner thigh until it bumped the lower portion of my panty covered crotch were he wiggled his toes. It felt nice. "We don't have time for this," I complained and squeezed my thighs shut clamping down on his foot to stop him. He kept wiggling his toes though. 

"Oh shit, that feel good," I said.

"Who knew you had a foot fetish?" he said.

"You're big toe is stroking my belot, dick wad. Nothing to do with some fucked up foot fetish."

I slackened my grip with my thighs, he pulled his foot away and knelt behind me. His lips brushed my panty covered ass cheeks. Then I felt him trail slow hot kisses along the crack. When he got near the bud, a thrill ran up my spine at the feel of his hot breath near the opening. He pushed his tongue against the silky material and pressed at the hole. Each puff of his breath sent fresh thrills up my spine.

"Jesus, Matt!" I said with a quick intake of breath. "We're gonna be late," I said but made no move to stop him as he pulled down my panties. He twirled me so that my crotch faced him and he wasted no time going to work on my wet clitoris with his teeth and tongue ... and that hot amazing breath!

My knees literally buckled and I had to grip his shoulders to keep from dropping. I gasped and said, "Noway I can do this standing up!" I roughly grabbed a hand full of his long hair, pulled his head away from my crotch, pivoted and sat down heavily on the love seat. I gripped my inner thighs and spread myself open in the most unladylike fashion. "Eat me haole!" I demanded.

Matt threw himself between my legs. I howled with laughter but he soon had me reduced to gasps and coos. The sensations he created were indescribably perfect.

"You are so fucking good at this!" I told him just in case I hadn't before.

As he worked me with his mouth, his right hand wiggled under me so he could finger my asshole. "Oh wow! That is so interesting. Put it in me! Put your finger deep up my ass!"

He obliged ... and I came. 

"Oh God Matt!" I yelled then quickly lost the desire to communicate coherently as my body stiffened, trembled and twitched.

With Matt's tongue pressing on my clitoris and his finger deep up my ass, my body slowly relaxed and my desire to speak returned.

"You are the king of head," I said. 

He made a muffled grunting sound that might have been a laugh and then he pressed in hard with his mouth and wiggled his finger. Miraculously, I instantly came again ... on the heels of orgasm two, I dared him to get me off one more time.

We were so fucking late getting to the Volcano. 

********** 

Matt and I pushed passed the western style swing doors of the pub. It was still relatively early and the place had yet to fill with campus rowdies looking to get drunk. I scanned the room and saw Hawk sitting at a table near the window. He saw us and waved and we went to sit with him. 

"How come so late?" Hawk asked after kissing my cheek.

"Because of some asshole," Matt said.

I barked a little laugh, blushed a bit and covered my mouth. Hawk gave me a befuddled look. "Tell you later," I said. "Is the Alyson chick late too?" Maybe she had canceled a part of me hoped. 

"She's here," Hawk said. "She got a phone call from her department head and went somewhere quiet to take it. You look great."

"Her underwear matches," Matt added.

"Shut up or I'll tell the waitress you're under twenty-one," I said to him sternly. 

I saw Alyson Reese approaching from across the room and I was glad I had taken the time to freshen up for the woman was stunning in full makeup, snug jeans and a tasteful white top. 

Time to panic. 

Hawk officially introduced us.

"Call me Aly," she said with a warm smile. Her eyes settled on me. Apparently she didn't recognize me. I was glad, yet at the same time, a little insulted. 

"Hawk wasn't exaggerating you are quite beautiful," Alyson said sounding sincere. 

I stupidly blushed at the unexpected compliment.

I thought things were going to be tense but the conversation rolled easily. The girl was super charming and quickly had us all laughing at her preconceived notions about what she thought the Hawaiian Islands were going to be like. 

"I expected to see hunky guys in grass skirts twirling torches at the airport and I have yet to see a fat Hawaiian dude playing the ukulele," she said clearly disappointed. 

"Yeah," Matt said, "I thought it was going to be all palm trees and blue-green lagoons like in Gilligan's Island or something. Never imaged a dense modern sprawl like Honolulu."

"Welcome to paradise," I said.

"Flawed as Honolulu is, it still beats Northern Wisconsin, hands down," Aly said. She then followed up with several odd yet funny stories about the university's fledgling genetics department. 

"Can you tell us about that sheep that was successfully cloned a couple years back?" Matt asked. 

I had no idea what he was talking about. I didn't know that cloning was a real thing let alone it being done here at Honolulu University. 

Aly got serious and gave a cautious glance around like she was worried that someone was listening in. 

"A little," she said conspiratorially and leaned forward. Matt, Hawk and I leaned in to hear what she had to say. "To be honest," she whispered, "The cloning was a mistake. We accidentally created a second lamb after a failed attempt at xtelelporting it across campus."

"Really," Matt asked clearly shocked, "xtelelporting like in Star Trek?"

"Beam me up Scotty," she said with a tiny smile. We saw that she was clearly joking about the teleporting thing and Hawk and I broke up laughing. Unfortunately, I had a mouth full of beer at that moment and spat it all over the table, which made everyone else laugh. 

"You have had way too much to drink if you found that funny," Aly said. Everyone picked up a cocktail napkins and dabbed at the mess I had made. 

As the evening moved along, Aly gave us glimpses of her life. She was born in a small Wisconsin town to a Half Korean half German father and a Swiss mother. Both parents were excessively tall. It explained her Asian face, her height and perhaps the blond hair, although I still held out that it was just a very good color job. 

"Being tall, blond and Korean wasn't such a big thing back in Wisconsin," Aly said. "Mostly because there were a lot of tall blond women everywhere. But here in Hawaii? I'm a total stand out freak!" 

She was right about that, tall girls stood out here in the islands. The average female height is somewhere between four and a half to five nothing. I wondered how Meka Okuda dealt with it. 

Aly went on to tell us that she was the second runner up in the Miss Wisconsin contest in high school. That earned her a small scholarship to attend a local state college were she shined in the biology department. At twenty-four, she was one of Wisconsin's brightest in the genetics research department. She started her masters at Wisconsin Tech. Then last year, she was offered a full scholarship and staff position from Honolulu University's new shiny microbiology department. 

"What fool would turn that down after years of Wisconsin winters?" she said. 

Matt nodded; his out look on Ohio winters was very much the same. 

Matt asked how she and Hawk had met. Aly told how she had came to Hawk's aid after the man o' war had stung him. Hawk retold the story about his encounter with the freak wave too, but added one little detail he had left out last week.

"... and she peed on my foot," Hawk said. 

Again, I had mouthful of beer and was about to repeat my earlier performance.

"Swallow!" Matt and Hawk screamed in unison. I managed to swallow and looked at Aly's exotic beautiful face. For the first time that evening she blushed.

"Hawk! You didn't have to tell them that!" Aly barked and slapped this shoulder hard. Regaining some reserve she cleared her throat and said, "Everyone knows that urine is the best thing for a Portuguese man o' war sting." 

"It was courageous the way she administered to me right there on the beach." Hawk said. That comment earned him a second hard slap on the shoulder from Aly.

"It wasn't on the beach! It was in the parking lot between some cars so no one could see!" Aly said, "And you said you wouldn't tell," she added in a stern whisper. 

This time I slapped him hard on the opposite shoulder for being crude, but mostly for not telling me about this until now. Hawk sat rubbing both his arms. 

"I wouldn't have done it if I knew that I wasn't peeing on a gentleman," Aly said demurely. That made Matt and I laugh and it helped to cool my irritation at Hawk—lucky for him. 

"Speaking of which," Aly said and got up to go to the bathroom.

As soon as she was out of earshot, I locked eyes with Hawk. "Odd that you left that out the other day," I said. 

"Another woman peeing on me seemed a subject best kept from ones own girl friend," he said logically. 

That got a laugh from Matt. 

"What do you think?" Hawk asked.

"She's great." Matt said quickly. 

"Change your mind then?" I asked with a small sarcastic smile.

"Sure," Matt said, "she's charming, funny, smart." 

"And oh yeah...gorgeous and sexy?" I added.

"Yeah, that too," Matt added sheepishly.

"You were having doubts about meeting her?" Hawk asked Matt.

"I was just told an hour ago we were meeting her," Matt informed him.

"Sorry, just got around to it," I said.

"How did you get her to pee on your foot?" Matt asked.

"I'm a charming guy," he joked. 

Mat laughed. "How much have you told her about us?" 

"Just a little. No details. If this doesn't work out I saw no point in sharing our private moments with her." 

"You are a gentleman," I said. "Remind me to pee on you one day." 

"How did you ask her to ... you know ... join us?" Matt asked Hawk.

"I didn't, she did," Hawk said. 

"Really?" Matt asked surprised. 

"Yeah. We started swapping stories about some of our most stupid dares," Hawk said. "I told her about my nude surfing adventure. She countered with a story about skinny-dipping that nearly turned into a threesome. I had her beat when I told her about our first threesome. She was all over that and begged for details. When I told her that our threesome was an on going thing, she nearly flipped. She asked to meet you guys, the foursome is her idea."

Hawk shushed us when he saw Aly coming back. 

Aly scanned our face as she sat down. Nobody said a thing ... which spoke volumes. "Talking about me?" she asked.

"Yeah, I was telling them about what you asked," Hawk said. 

"Oh," she said and blushed for the second time that evening. More quiet ensued and it seemed ton go on forever none of us having any idea how to proceed from here. "I'm sorry," she said, finally breaking the silence. "I'm imposing on something very private with the three of you. Look, forget that I ever said anything. I have all the sophistication of a groundhog." She got up and reached for her purse swung on the back of her chair. She looked modified and about to cry. 

We all spoke at once asking her to sit back down. To make sure that she did, Hawk grabbed the strap of her handbag. 

We were all quiet again. Hawk and Matt looked at me. 

I rolled my eyes, apparently I had been proclaimed group spokeswoman. "We're all interested." Hawk and Matt gave tiny nods. "It's just that this is all new for us too. We eased into our thing slowly. We got to know each other over time first. You are very sudden and unexpected." Aly looked perplexed again, but before she could say anything, I added, "We'll give you time to get to know us. You could hate us for all you know?" 

Or we could hate you, I thought but kept it to myself. 

After a long pause, Aly nodded looking immensely relieved ... and just a little bit disappointed.

"May I ask a some questions?" she said.

I looked at the guys; they shrugged.

"Do you guys do anything ... you know, freaky?" she asked just above a whisper. 

"I like to watch Hawk and Matt kiss. Turns me on to no end," I said.

"No way!" Hawk and Matt said together. 

I laughed. "Just kidding. The boys are straight."

Aly gave me a look and it took me a couple of seconds to get the unspoken question behind her eyes. "I'm straight too," I quickly added.

"You kissed another chick a couple of weeks ago," Hawk rudely said, but thankfully didn't mention Li Hong's name.

"Didn't count," I said. "She kissed me remember?"

"You kissed a girl?" Matt asked sounding both intrigued and surprised.

"It was no big deal," I said giving Matt a 'we will talk about this another time' look. 

Aly looked at me with a raised eyebrow but thankfully didn't pursue the subject and asked instead, "S and M? Tie me up? Tie me down?" 

"Nothing like that," I said. "We make love and let things happen," I finished with a shrug. Her questions made me wonder if the girl was a freak herself. 

Aly nodded. Thankfully the conversation moved on to less complex subjects like religions conflicts in the Middle East, Geo-political economics and time retardation involving black holes. 

Deep into our fourth round of drinks, the night's band started setting up.

"It's Liquid Sky," Matt said with a groan. 

Hawk, Matt and I are regulars here at the Volcano Pub and we have heard Liquid Sky play often enough too label them the shittest band on the planet. 

"Why don't we go to my place?" Aly suggested.

We happily accepted the invitation to escape the awful sounds of Liquid Sky. 

"Look it's Meka," Hawk said just as we were about to get up to leave. 

We all turned our heads toward the doorway, and low and behold, there stood Meka Okuda, gorgeous in black tights and a lavender dress that showed off her enviable figure. As usual, her halo of luscious, black, wavy hair served as a sexy mandala around her upper body. At her side, and a full foot shorter, stood Emmett Magalan ceramic's golden boy, the same guy that gave the Kokuras, Hawk and I a tour of the secret ceramic yard. 

I waved and the pair came our way.

"What's up history girl?" I asked Meka.

"Playing fag-hag for Emmett here," she said. 

"You no have too," Emmett said with mock offense, "I get plenty girls standing in line you know."

"You hate all those crunchy hippie chicks in ceramics," Meka said to him. 

"Not all," Emmett corrected. 

Introductions were made all around. Emmett frowned at Aly.

"Stand," he demanded of her curtly. 

Aly made a face at the odd request but stood anyway. Emmett stared at her open mouthed, obviously impressed by her towering height and exotic looks. 

"You student?" he asked. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 09



"Lecturer," Aly said.

"How I not see you before now? You fag hag worthy" 

Aly laughed. "Ah...thank you...I think?" 

The band started up. 

"Oh my God Emmett!" Meka just about screamed. "I can't abide this shitty band one more night!" 

We all roared with laughter at her timely comment

"I gotta stay,' Emmett wined, "the man I wanna marry is the drummer." 

We all turned to check out the drummer. It was a skinny haole guy with a scorpion tattooed on his shiny, shaved head. If heroin junkies had a poster boy it would be the drummer of Liquid Sky.

"Wanna join us?" Aly shouted at Meka. "We're going to my place. I'm just up the valley. I got plenty to drink."

"Love too." Meka said emphatically. To emphasize her dislike for the band she covered her ears. 

"You no fag-hag fo' me no mo'," Emmett scolded. 

"You'll be fine," Meka said giving him a big hug. "Go sit with the poets and writers. He glumly sat in the section claimed by campus literary types. Everyone called out his name which brought a smile to his face. 

We squared our bill and vacated the Volcano. 

In the parking lot, Hawk tossed me his keys then he and Aly loaded into her dark blue Corolla. It irritated me that he decided to ride with her. Matt and I got into Hawk's white Bronco; I drove. Meka followed in her silver Volvo.

"Those two are the most beautiful and tall Asian chicks I've ever seen. Man oh, man." Matt said. 

"Cool your jets haole boy," I said full of annoyance at his male hormonal response. Apparently, his doubts about mixing it up with Aly were all gone and now he was adding Meka to the mix. "Nothing is gonna happen tonight," I reminded him. "We agreed to take this slow and Meka ain't part of the deal." 

Our mini caravan advanced. I watched the taillights of Aly's car and wondered what she and Hawk were talking about.



Naked Portraits Pt. 10



Chapter 49 Room Full of Angels 

A couple of miles deep into the lush Manoa Valley, Aly pulled her Toyota into a driveway. I parked the Bronco on the street, Meka slid in behind me in her Volvo. We piled out of the cars. 

"This is nice," Hawk said looking at the house with it's tastefully lit sculpted Japanese garden. 

"Yes it is," Aly said, "but my place is outback. The front house belongs to—"

"Oshi and Brian two retired university professors," Meka finished for her.

"You know them?" Aly asked. 

"Yeah, Brian and Oshi are art patrons and I bump into them every now and then," Meka said.

We followed a path of flat, evenly spaced rock slabs embedded in the ground that led us along the left side of the big house. Motion sensors activated path lights as we advanced. Aly's little house around back was a quaint yellow vinyl sided structure surrounded by a jungle of banana palms, ti plants and ferns. The house was on stilts and seemed sunk into the hillside behind it. Aly led the way up the two flights of wooden stairs to get to the front door. She opened the door and clicked on the lights revealing a surprisingly spacious living room. An impressive collection of small carvings were scattered everywhere in the room. Hand sized bronze, silver, brass and wooden statues took up every available flat space, there must have been close to a hundred of them. 

"This is my collection," Aly said, "I can't help buying them. It's kind of a sickness really." 

She picked up a delicate little bronze angel with crystal wings. "It cost me a fortune to ship them here." 

"They're all angels," Meka observed.

"And female," Hawk added.

Aly picked up an angel made of white stone. "Pick them up if you like. They're fun to touch." 

I picked up a tallish snow globe that rested on a shelf and automatically shook it. Artificial snow settled on a tiny angel statue at the center flanked by palm trees surrounded by, of all things, a graveyard. 

"This is a little creepy," I said with a frown. A feeling not unlike the one that had descended on me at Hawk's archaeological dig on Maui, enveloped me.

"Yeah I know, freaky thing isn't it," Aly said, "The landlords, Oshi and Brian, gave it to me as a house warming present after they saw my collection. She's kind of sad stuck behind all that glass." 

Meka took the globe from me and I was happy to be rid of it. She shook it then gave it a good critical look.

"I know this place," Meka said in wonder. "It's the entrance to a grave yard in Makiki Heights across the street from my house. I've photographed that very angel many times." 

Meka handed the globe back to me but I refused to take it so she put it back on the shelf I got it from. 

Aly pulled open the curtain in the living room. The large picture window overlooked the front house. Below, lights illuminated a swimming pool and screen enclosed pool deck. 

"This place is awesome," Matt said, 

Aly nodded. "I scooped it up the moment I saw it. Come see the rest," She led us down a hallway passed a tiny galley kitchen. Photos and framed reproductions of famous angel painting crowded the walls of the hall. Among the angel stuff was an unframed eighteen by twenty four inch painting that looked out of place for there clearly was on angel in it. It was done in an impressionistic style that made me thing of Camille Pissaro. I stopped to get a good look. The painting was dark and shadowy with two figures at the center in odd crossing orange beams of light. Both figures were female, one nude with dark brown skin, the other pale with dark hair dressed in black clothing. 

"This is an odd one," I said to Aly.

Aly nodded in agreement. "I got it at a craft fair in Waipahu three months ago. I stopped at a booth to look at it and the woman there just gave it to me. 

"Really?' I asked. "She just gave it to you for free? This is skillfully done."

"Yep," Aly said. "I tried to turn it down but she insisted, saying it was my destiny to own it. She was a little crazy I thought. I only took just to get away from her."

"I wish crazy people would give me art," Matt said.

"Gwen gives you art all the time," Hawk said to him.

"I'm not lolo," I said and punch Hawk in the arm. 

Aly waved us along to continued the tour of the house. "Bathroom, guestroom, study, master bedroom," she said as we passed doors all on our left. At the end of the long hall (the place didn't look that big from the outside) was a glass door and the only one on the right side. The glass door was delicately inlaid with geometric patterns of frosted green and white glass. Aly pushed the glass door open, hit the light switch and led us in the room.

Hawk summed it up in one word.

"Righteous." 

We stood in a room dominated by a raised wooden hot top. The floor was solid cement and felt coarse under foot. The the tub looked seasoned and well used. One wall was made entirely of glass. The space had a distinct Japanese feel to it.

"Watch this," Aly said. She walked to a control panel off in the corner and hit some switches. Lights came on outside the glass wall revealing a lush growth of banana trees just a few feet out. "This place is built right into the hillside. You should see it in the morning," 

As we paraded back into the living room, Aly said, "I got Merlot, Cabernet, Mums champagne and Coronas." She went to the fridge and got out a bottle of champagne.

"Lecturing must pay well," Matt said.

Aly laughed. "Normally, you guys would be drinking just beer but the landlords gave me a case of everything on the drink menu as a moving in present. Would you believe it?" 

"I would," Meka said. "Your landlords are loaded."

"This sure beats faculty housing," Hawk said as he settled onto the suede leather sofa. 

"And the dorms," Matt added. 

"And my cramped little Waikiki apartment," I said.

"I have a nice house in Makiki Heights," Meka said. "but I don't have a cool hot tub and mountains for a backyard."

"I like it too," Aly said with a smile as she popped a chilled bottle of Mums.

Aly poured flukes of champagne for everyone and we all found places to sit in her comfy living room. Matt, Hawk and I sat on the suede sofa with me in the center. Meka and Aly sat in the matching lounge chairs. 

"Did you hear about the little incident involving my photo?" Meka asked. She quickly gave a short history of her photo of Wahine Lani and the alleged break in a few days back. 

As she spoke, I slowly gripped Hawk's hand.

"I know the statue!" Hawk said with excitement, "Gwen discovered her on a—" 

I squeezed his hand as hard as I could. 

He gave me a quizzical look than squinted at me suspiciously. "Did you see what the offering was?" Hawk asked still eying me up. "Hair perhaps? Some blood? Teeth? A finger? A human heart?" 

Meka laughed. "Nothing that exciting. When I arrived at the gallery security was already there along with a hand full of Hawaiian activist students. The activists wanted to take the offering away but the head of security said noway. He wanted to see inside the leaf wrapped bundle calming it was evidence in a crime." Meka laughed, "I guess he was thinking along the same lines as you, Hawk."

"Yeah I know, those offerings can get real extreme with some people," Hawk said as he gave my knee a mildly painful squeeze. 

"May I have some white wine?" I asked.

"Help yourself," Aly said.

I slipped off to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of white wine from the fridge as Meka continued describing the event. 

"Anyway, the Hawaiian activists insisted that the offering was sacred and opening it would be sacrilege. A fight almost broke out. Sandy Agato, the art office secretary calmed everyone down and even got the activist to open the bundle to let security see what was inside."

Meka took a sip of her champagne. Matt and Aly leaned forward. Hawk's eyes were on me in the kitchen. I swallowed half of my glass of freshly poured wine before Meka spoke again.

"In the leaves was a small wooden box with a sliding top. I recognized the box as the kind that holds compressed charcoal sticks, high grade expensive stuff." 

Yeah, I know, I thought. 

"One of the activist slid back the lid and inside were short bristly hairs from some kind of animal, a broken stick that turned out to be a paint brush, two scraps of painted cloth, one of a red hand outlined in black and the other a pair of striking eyes of an Asian woman." 

"No real human eye?" Matt asked with a laugh.

"Security was disappointed too," Aly said laughing too. "And since nothing was broken or stolen they backed off and the activist spirited away with the offering."

As Matt and Aly peppered Meka with questions, Hawk got up to join me in the kitchen. 

"You've been a busy pagan," he said softly.

"What are they going to do with my offering?" I asked a bit concerned for all the hubbub I had created. 

"Probably bury it. Who did you fuck to create the offering?"

"Nobody!" I said with slap at his chest. After a short pause I confessed, "I just sneaked Paul Gleason a kiss is all."

Hawk chuckled. "That must have blown his mind."

"Actually, it did," I said with sheepish pride. 

In the living room, Meka spoke on.

"All week long people have been coming and leaving offerings at my photo. Sally and Oleander built me some cool pedestals made of stone and wood. It's kinda cool having people worship my art. One woman gave me this." Meka took something from her bag and held it out. It was a black t-shirt with a hand in a red circle.

Oh my god," I whispered looking at the symbol I had created. I wanted to laugh but at the same time felt a little weirded out, not to mention robbed, it was after all my creation. But to claim it I would have to confess to the break in and more seriously, appropriating a religion that didn't belong to me. 

"These shirts are all over campus," Meka said, putting the t-shirt away. "Even Sally's bronzes got some attention. Someone ringed each with fragrant flowered leis and made ti leaf skirts for them. Sally was tickled when she saw them. A news crew showed up and Sally and I made the evening news. A friend called me from Maui and said that people are visiting the Wahine Lani statue in droves. She is now one busy Goddess."

"Always was," I mumbled in the kitchen.

The evening progressed and the conversation wove and twisted from one subject to another, never stopping, flowing on a slow easy current of beer, wine, champagne and good company. I was getting to like Aly and Meka was making quite an impression too. Hawk talked about his new tentative friendship with the local guy A.J. whose life he saved. 

"That A.J. is one hot Hawaiian guy," Aly said. He is a stack of dreams with all those manly tattoos." 

"You catch one yet?" Meka asked Aly. 

Aly's sudden deep blushing was all the answer we needed. Everyone laughed and gave her naughty girl oohs. 

"Tell us," I said feeling mellow from all the wine. I snuggled close in with Matt, in the mood to touch his smooth skin. I guy shouldn't have such perfect skin I mused. 

"Yeah, in detail," Hawk added.

"No editing. Leave in all the dirty stuff," I insisted.

Aly pondered for a second and then said, "You can read about at Literotica dot com. I wrote my little encounter down and submitted it."

"Matt visits that site all the time," I said.

"I do not!" Matt said immediately.

"Dude," Hawk said, "Whenever you use my computer clear your history when you're done."

"You can do that?" Matt asked.

I rolled my eyes. "How can someone as smart as you be so lolo about computers?" I asked dumfounded. 

"Literotica?" Meka said. "That's a very popular amateur erotic story sight. I have a friend that submits stories there all the time."

"You write erotica?" Matt asked Aly, clearly doing his best to move the spotlight off him.

"Just that one time after too much white wine," Aly said with an ain't no big thing wave of her hand. 

Matt picked up Aly's laptop resting on the coffee table. 

"I know where you're going," Aly said with a roll of her eyes. 

He nodded as he brought up the Literotica site. "What category?"

Aly sighed. "Erotic coupling. The title is 'Under the Maui Sky' by Kim Gold."

"I'm gonna read it out loud," Matt said.

"Oh come on," Aly said. "This is so embarrassing." She covered her face with her hands but made no serious move to stop him.

Matt read, "Under the Maui Sky by Kim Gold ..."

Chapter 50 Noah's Flood

Debra Cho was tall for an Asian girl. At an even six feet, her height made her look like a supermodel but there was nothing model thin about her. The woman had a full figure and curves in all the places that mattered. Then add to her bombshell figure natural blond hair, she officially cornering the market on the exotic. To say that the girl stood out was an understatement. Fortunately, she had the brains to match her looks. In less than a year she claimed the number three spot in her Minnesota based tech company.

In August, her company opened a branch in Honolulu, Hawaii to get closer to the South Korean and Japanese markets. The number one tech job was up for grabs. With the job came a fat raise and a choice Waikiki apartment. The moment Debra heard this news she started a fierce campaigned to get the head tech job. The raise and Waikiki apartment were nice perks but she would have taken a cut in pay and shared a room with a crackhead in a rundown tenement if it meant no more Minnesota winters. Of course Debra Cho got the job. 

The day she landed, her new boss met her at the airport and drove her straight to the new Honolulu office. Minutes after her arrival, the computer system went schizophrenic. Total panic ensued. Adding to the bedlam was the ongoing construction of the facilities. Debra was informed that the building contractors had fallen behind schedule and showed total indifference to the chaos it was causing. Her boss was totally inept and incapable of making decision on her own. What seem like an extravagant raise in salary at the beginning, turned out to be hard earned ... and not enough in Debra's opinion. 

Every day as she left her Waikiki apartment for work, she saw the ocean less than a mile away through her balcony window. Unfortunately, that would be the closest she would get to the Hawaiian surf for some time because of the chaos at work. To stave off depression, she would tell herself that it was February and she was in Hawaii and not Minnesota.

A month down the line, the day arrived when things were running close to the way they were designed to. Debra went to her lab assistants and said, "I am booking a flight to Maui to forget this place for the weekend. Don't call me unless there is a fire or the government wants us to clone Elvis or Kurt Cobain."

Wasting no time, Debra drove home to her Waikiki apartment and packed for her getaway on Maui. She booked a flight to Maui then took a taxi to the Honolulu airport were she boarded a DC-10. On Maui, She drove her rental car to the south shore of the island to a resort area called Wailea. Debra had picked her getaway resort after reading one line in a brochure that said the ocean was no more then ten paces away.

She checked in, dumped her stuff in her spacious, third floor, light infused hotel room. She pulled back the drapes and looked at the blue-green ocean with content ... and lust. She stripped and put on a modest bathing suit. Armed with sun block, a beach towel and a good cheesy thriller, she went down to the lobby and made a beeline to the beach. She counted eight-two steps before she stood in sand, well over the ten paces promised in the brochure. 

Blatant false advertising she thought. 

But all was quickly forgiven as she wiggled her feet deep into the warm Wailea sand. She picked a spot to spread her towel then sat and watched the early beginnings of a Maui sunset play out before her eyes and thought of how far away from Minnesota she was. She just couldn't believe that it was February here too. 

"Nothing is more beautiful then this," Debra said to herself contently.

She was wrong.

The dreamiest man Debra had ever laid eyes on stepped out of the gently churning surf and headed her way. The guy had coppery dark skin stretched over a perfect frame of muscle and bone. As he drew near, her eyes flickered from perfect pecs to a six-pack stomach flatter then a Minnesota prairie. The red and black tiger striped, spandex swim trunks he wore accentuated his beautiful sculpted thighs and displayed a respectable bulge where it counted. The guy ran right passed her and some water splashed off of him spattering her right forearm. Shamelessly, she licked the moistness off her arm savoring the salty taste. She turned to assess the guy's backside, which was as perfect as his front. The dream disappeared from sight behind a clump of coconut palms.

"Toto, we are not in Minnesota any more," Debra whispered. 

Toto growled lustfully.

Debra waited for the sky to lose all of its gaudy color and then went to the hotel restaurant and ordered a grilled aku steak surrounded with a teriyaki, Kula onion salsa on a bed of fragrant jasmine rice and washed it all down with two glasses of sweet white wine. Then for desert, she had banana sorbet and a sinful wedge of chocolate cheesecake with a sweetened creamy cup of Kona coffee. After her fine dinner, Debra waddled to her room and took the world's longest bath. Once in bed, her Hawaiian merman filled her mind's eye and she put her vibrator through its paces. She went to sleep with a smile on her face. 

In the morning, Debra went down to the restaurant and gorged on a sinful breakfast of tender strips of Kobe steak, two sunny side eggs, fried taro, half a papaya and more Kona coffee. As she ate, she watched the ocean waves come and go from the open-air deck of the restaurant. After her sinful breakfast, she walked to the beach via the pool. At poolside she saw her dreamy Hawaiian masturbatory fantasy from the day before talking to the bartender. 

After dream boy left the pool area, Debra walked over to the bar and flat out asked the bartender, "The guy you were talking to, is he a guest?" 

"No, az my cuz Noah," the chubby Hawaiian bartender said. "He the golf pro fo' the hotel." 

Noah, a nice biblical name, she thought absently.

Debra thanked the bartender and went back into the resort lobby to signed up for a late afternoon golf lesson with instructor Noah. She spent the time before the golf lesson well oiled in a bikini on the pool deck reading a paperback novel. The pool boys kept checking in to see if she needed anything every five minutes to the point of annoyance. Finally, the chubby bartender, Noah's cuz, intervened.

"Leave the lady alone you pests! Go do yo' work!" He gave her a wink and a smile. The pool boys stayed away for the remainder of the afternoon. That earned him a twenty dollar tip. 

At three, she went back to her room to shower and change. At four, she sat waiting in the lobby for the start of her golf lesson. A middle aged Japanese couple waited with her. Debra wore loose beige shorts that accentuated her ass and showed maximum leg. Up top she wore a clinging short sleeve white shirt that showed enough cleavage for visual impact but still allowing for taste. The Japaneses guy kept stealing little looks at her when he thought his wife wasn't looking. Her height, blond hair and Asian features always drew such attention, but here in the Hawaiian Islands it was ten fold. She had hoped that she would blend in better because of her Korean half. But her height and blond hair made her stand out even more then she ever did in Minnesota. 

Noah finally showed looking good in khaki shorts, a dark blue polo shirt and a white ball cap with the name of the resort on it. She was four inches taller then he was. She could tell immediately that he found her attractive, but she worried about the height difference. Most men found tall girls sexy, but at the same time intimidating. Aly knew from experience that her height scared guys off more often then not.




Naked Portraits Pt. 10



Noah, Debra and the Japanese couple piled into a six-seat golf cart; Debra sat up front with Noah, the Japanese couple sat behind them. Debra cracked a small smile when she caught Noah stealing glances at her legs.

Debra played a mean game of tennis and found that some of that translated into driving a golf ball. With a few tips from Noah, she got the hang of a good drive. 

As Noah gave tips to the Japanese guy, the Japanese woman said to Debra in heavily accented English, "Good looking boy this Mr. Noah." 

Debra nodded in agreement. 

"You good looking too. Very tall for Asian girl," she said. "Nice hair too." 

Debra shrugged and smiled at the unexpected compliment.

"My husband look too much I think," she added.

Debra cringed but had to agree that the woman's husband had roaming eyes, but she kept quiet about it. Nothing good would come from that conversation she was sure.

"Fishing for Mr. Noah?" the woman asked with a little smile. 

Mildly shocked by this woman's brazen question, and totally embarrassed that her intent seemed so obvious to a stranger, Debra blushed and dropped her eyes. 

"I get you private lesson," the woman said then barked something in Japanese that got her husband's attention. Then the woman said to Noah, "My husband and I have to meet with our group for dinner. We go and you give nice girl lesson." The couple bowed to Noah then to Debra. The woman gave Debra a wink as they departed. 

"Practice putts?" Noah asked giving Debra a dazzling white smile. 

"You the pro," she said returning the smile. 

They made their first physical contact on the practice putting green as Noah stood behind her and gently adjusted her shoulders, arms and hands. She liked his touch and got a pleasant sampling of his aftershave. 

Debra's driving was better then her putting, but she improved with each attempt. Pitching from the practice sand trap was even more fun. She liked the feel of the sand wedge in her hands; the dramatic explosion of sand, and she especially loved that the ball went generally were she wanted it to go. With joy and satisfaction, Debra watched a ball she had just pitched from the sand fall within five feet of the hole. 

"This is more fun then mini golf," she said with a big grin. She handed the sand wedge to Noah, "Here you do it." 

He took the club and dropped a ball in front of him. Debra playful stepped on it sinking it a few inches deep in the sand.

"Hey, no make!" he said with a mock frown that made her giggle. He positioned himself and took his swing. Sand exploded out, the ball arched high, bounced on the green and then rolled to within inches of the cup, then miraculously, it dropped in with a distinctive patter. 

"You are the golf pro," she said impressed.

He tipped his cap at the compliment. 

Their physical contact became more frequent as the lesson went on. The sun started to set and Debra wondered how long a lesson was supposed to last. Not that she was complaining. There was no mistaking Noah's attraction to her, but he seemed too polite to make an overt move, or more likely, hotel policy frowned on him hitting on guests. 

Debra decided to take matters into her own hands. "Would you like to take me to dinner?" 

He smiled. "Yes I would," he said, "but not hea' at the hotel, no look good if I did." 

"You pick the place," Debra said. 

"You like Mexican?"

"Love Mexican." 

Noah gave her instructions on were to meet him and then dropped her off at the resort. On the way up to her room Debra saw the Japanese couple from the golf lesson in the lobby amongst a gaggle of other guests. Debra caught the eye of the woman and from across the lobby gave her what she hoped was a respectful and thankful bow. The woman gave an elfish grin and bowed back. 

Debra showered and then dressed for a casual evening in jeans, a pale blue cotton shirt and put on makeup and perfume. She went down stairs and followed the path to the ocean. Noah was waiting for her on a bench looking out to sea, bathed in soft orange light from rows of tiki torches nearby.

"Hey," She called out. Noah stood to greet her. He wore loose fitting white cotton pants, a dark blue aloha shirt and sandals. His longish brown hair fluttered in the light ocean breeze. Behind him, stars speckled the moonless night sky meeting the sea and an island in the distance. Aly's heart skipped at the breath-taking scenery... and her handsome Hawaiian date.

"What island is that?" she asked just to make conversation.

"Kahoolawe. No body live dea'. Not enough rain." 

Noah gave a small bow and they followed the concrete beach path for a quarter mile to a nearby resort that housed the Mexican restaurant. 

At an outside table, they shared a single platter of chicken enchiladas smothered in a white gooey cheese, topped with chopped green onions, surrounded by black re-fried beans and Spanish rice.

After a fork full of the rice she said, "This is the best rice ever."

"Gandule rice, Portuguese style," Noah said proud that I was pleased with his choice of restaurant. "I get some Potagee in me, I tell you, this is good." He leaned forward and added in a conspirator's whisper, "Better then my mother." 

Debra laughed as Noah scanned the eating area to make sure his mother was nowhere in sight. Apparently, Portuguese mothers were on par with the CIA here in Hawaii. After the meal, they drank Dos Equis and talked. Debra enjoyed the sexy rhythmic pattern of Noah's deep voice and found the local pidgin intriguing ... and very sexy.

Noah insisted on paying for dinner. She suspected that she made loads more money than him, but she kept silent not wanting to hurt his feelings. They abandoned the paved path and chose to follow the beach back to the resort. The sound of the gentle pounding surf, the soft rustling of palm trees in the breeze, the stars overhead, the smell of the sea and Noah's cologne, put Debra in the mood for a kiss. Fortunately for her, Noah was of the same mind. They turned to face each other and carried out the sweet deed. The kiss was mellow, their bodies at a polite distance hardly touching. 

As the kiss gained traction, the sound of the ocean seem to intensify. With each passing second, their bodies crept closer and politeness and restraint ebbed away. Audaciously, Debra felt between the man's legs to gauge his size, her unscientific estimation of the stony erection she encountered was eight, plus or minus. Emboldened as well, Noah's hands slid down her back to her ass. 

Their mouths parted and he said, "You one tall girl, you part Japanese? Chinese?"

"Korean-German," she said. 

"Would you like to go to your room?" he asked pointblank. 

"No, I wanna make love to you right her under the stars," Debra said then moved in for another kiss. 

When the kiss broke, Noah said, "This beach too public." But that didn't stop him from working the buttons of her shirt. Noise from down the beach made him stop. A boisterous group of people came marched down the beach at them from the direction of the resort. Debra laughed as Noah sighed and politely re-buttoning the couple of buttons he had manage to undo. Bristling with sexual anticipation, Debra and Noah walked hand in hand back to the resort. She had to admit she was disappointed. The Idea of making love with the stars gleaming overhead would have been epic! 

"Come," he said with a tug at her arm. He steered them to a path that went around the resort lobby. She figured he was looking for a less direct rout to her room. Oddly, he led her in the direction of the golf course entrance and then straight to the golf pro shop. 

Noah unlocked the door to the golf shop with a set of keys and they slipped into the darkened space. A buzzing sound greeted them. Noah punched a code on a keypad near the door and the buzzing stopped. He stepped around to the front counter. In the dim light, Debra looked at the neat rows golf clubs lining the walls and racks of clothing down the center. Noah was at her side again with a rolled up foam rug and a large flashlight. He then led Debra's to a door behind the counter marked staff only. The door opened onto a utility hallway brightly lit by florescent lights. They followed the hallway for several yards to a large garage like space. Along two walls were dozens of electric golf carts plugged into wall sockets for overnight charging. Noah put the rolled mat and flashlight into the back of one of the carts and unplugged the cart from the wall. They boarded the cart and Noah drove them through a tunnel that exited into the warm Maui night. 

"Were are we going?" Aly asked enjoying the mystery. 

"The seventh hole, par five with a long dogleg, no one around," he said as he maneuvered the cart onto a small asphalt road. The path lights were few and far between. If the cart had headlights they weren't on as Noah drove in the dark at a good clip in total confidence. 

"You bring dates here a lot?" Debra asked. 

"No. You first one." 

She believe him and smiled at the boyish excitement in his voice. The high whining electric drone of the cart's motor was the only sound she could hear. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness around her and with the lights of the resort further away, the Milky Way was impressive overhead. The cart stopped at what Debra assumed was the seventh hole. With the cart motor off, the quiet was nearly total. Debra walked to the center of the green where she could just make out the flag. A shaft of light cut into the darkness from the flashlight in Noah's hand, effectively spoiling her night vision. She watched Noah spread the foam mat on the sculpted grass. Then a delicious idea struck her. 

Noah clicked off the flashlight, put it on the ground near the mat and then walked toward where Debra stood waiting. As soon as he was close enough to touch, she pulled him in for a kiss and he instantly discovered she was absolutely naked. Automatically, his hands slid down her smooth back to her equally smooth naked ass. 

After the kiss he said, "Wait, no go way," and he dashed off in the direction of the mat he had placed on the green. 

Debra laughed and said, "Hurry up or I might just wander off." 

Seconds later, a flashlight beam cut through the darkness and illuminated her upper torso. "Iz okay? I gotta see this," he said. 

She laughed, "Iz okay," she returned in her best imitation of his local pidgin. 

The beam of light slipped up and down her body lingering in strategic areas, namely her breasts, pubic area and of course her ass as he walked around her. Illogically, Debra could almost feel the light flow over her naked skin. Maybe this proves that light does have mass, she thought amused and excited. The science mined part of her argued that more testing was required before she could come to that conclusion, but she told that part of her brain to shut the fuck up ... and it did for even the science geek in her wanted desperately to make love to this beautiful Hawaiian man. 

"Give it to me," Debra said reaching for the light, but he backed away unwilling to give it up. 

"Not done lookin'," he said. Debra laughed and stood still to allow him to have his optical orbs worth. "You one beautiful lady Ms. Debra," he said with undisguised lust. 

"I'll kiss you if you give me the light," she said. The beam lingered at her breasts highlighting her pink aureoles and nipples, they almost seem to glow with their own inner light. 

"One kiss not enough, I like two," he said stepping toward her with the light still focused on her breasts. 

When he got close enough, she took the flashlight from him and then allowed him to collected his kisses. The feel of his hands on her naked skin was hot and thrilling. At the end of the kiss she pushed him away.

"Hey! I get one mo' kiss!"

"Hang on, I wanna see skin too," she said as she fumbled with the flashlight. "Like I'm gonna deny you more kisses," she added with a laugh as she stepped back. "Give me the full Monty."

Debra focused the light on his face. With a sweet boyish grin, he removed his aloha shirt. She centered the light on his muscled, hairless chest then slid down lower as he dropped his pants revealing a pair of dark briefs with red trim. With no hesitation, he slipped his briefs down his legs spring his erection free. She focused the light on his stiff organ. 

To date, all of Debra's lovers had been Caucasian, and because of her height, most were basketball players. She liked that Noah was shorter than her, liked that his skin was dark, his features wonderfully Polynesian, and she especially liked that his penis was slightly darker then the rest of him. She walked up to him, clicked the flashlight off and dropped it onto the manicured surface of the seventh green. The sudden darkness was absolute and she groped for him and bent her head down to allow for the kiss she sensed coming, their height difference no longer an issue. His hands explored her breasts and she returned the favor and stroked his length. 

As Noah's tongue danced in the her mouth, an urgent thought filled Debra's head halting the kiss. "Did you bring a condom?" she asked in a worried breathy voice feeling stupid for not bringing one herself. Her contraception was back at the hotel room where she thought this would logically play out. 

"In my pants pocket," he said breathing hard too. 

"My hero," she said and meant it. Teasingly she added, "You were that sure that you were getting some tonight, huh?" She pulled him close liking the feel of his erection nestled between them. 

"No, but you wuz, I just the lucky guy that you picked," he said. 

His astute remark prompted her to ask a rude question. "How old are you?" 

He laughed and said, "Forty three last week." 

"No!" Debra said genuinely surprised, she had him at twenty-nine tops. They kissed again with hips gently grinding, both feeling the need to get microns closer. After the kiss she asked, "What's your youthful secret?" 

"Gresian Formula," he said with an easy laugh. "If you look down below you can see the gray." 

Debra broke the embrace, fumbled around and found the flashlight. She dropped to her knees on the grass in front of him and clicked it on to study his pubic hair.

"Hey, you no have to look so hard?" he objected. 

"Hold the light," she said as she handed it to him. She gently plucked at his pubic hair to examine the occasional strands of white. She gripped his stiff penis in one hand and cradled his balls with the other. Noah focused the light on her busy hands. In the yellow white glow, she smiled up at him then took him into her mouth. Excitement rippled through her. This was a first for her at giving a guy head in such a public place ... or fucking outside under the stars. She made a low moaning sound in the back of her throat; the only other sound was the flapping of the seventh green's flag in the light breeze. 

She let him slip from her mouth, stood up and said, "Go get that condom." 

There was another frantic search for the flashlight. Debra walked over to the padded rug and lay on her side. After a comical, frantic hunt for his slacks, Noah was on his knees at her side. He handed her the flashlight and she lit the interesting little task of him slipping the condom onto his eager erection. He took the light from her hands, clicked it off plunging them into darkness once more. She felt the tip of his erection touch the outer edges of her opening. Then slowly he slipped into her. 

Demonstrating super human restraint, they kissed slowly and deeply, barely moving. The kiss ended and they abandoned restraint as Noah started to move his hips. Although they were strangers, it didn't take them long to find a mutual delicious rhythm. A soft gasp escaped her with each of his pleasant plunges. Her night vision had returned and she looked up into the Milky Way as her pleasure built. She found the constellation of Orion just as her orgasm exploded. Orion and his belt of stars blurred losing focus and she called out, "Noah!" digging her fingers into his muscled back. "Don't stop," she demanded. 

He didn't and her second orgasm swept in shockingly quick and she added more marks to his back. Her energy and need seemed boundless and in a smooth rolling move, without him slipping out of her, they switched positions. Debra wasted no time getting them up to speed. 

She looked down into his face lit only by starlight just as orgasm number three hit her like a crashing wave. Noah followed seconds later. He arched under her easily lifting her like she were riding an ocean wave, all the splendid muscles of his body rippling and vibrating. His body relaxed; his flood of sexual excitement subsided and he fell on his back beside her.

On the seventh green, at a Wailea resort, on the island of Maui, in the middle pf the Pacific Ocean, on the planet earth, in a small suburb of the Milky Way Galaxy, Debra was one with the universe.

**********

"That was hot," Meka said. 

"And totally biblical," Hawk added.

Aly gave a nervous laugh. "If they found out in my department that I'm an amateur erotic writer I'd never live it down."

"Could you lose your job?" I asked.

"You kidding?" Aly said. "That place would collapse under its own weight without me. I could play volleyball naked at Ala Moana park and they'd still keep me." Aly laughed and then asked, Hawk, "You caught up to some local girls in your chases other then Gwen?" 

There was Betty, I thought and hoped to God he wasn't going to talk about her.

"Only Gwen, no others are worth mentioning," Hawk said.

I smiled at his diplomatic lie. 

"Nobody? Really?" Meka asked teasingly. 

"Scout's honor," Hawk said.

"I doubt you were ever a boy scout," Aly scoffed.

"So Meka," Aly said, "What's your disreputable tale with local guys?" 

"Which one do I pick? Meka said with a small laugh and sat back in her lounge chair to sip some Merlot. "Normally, I don't talk about my photo shoots with clients but stills and parts of a film I worked on with a couple has been appearing on the web. It's safe to say all bets are off. Meka took another sip of wine cleared her throat and said, "I filmed a private porno for Cassie and Rudy Kahakaloha." 

"Rudy Kahakaloha? The football star and owner of the Waikiki Sunset Gym?" Hawk asked intrigued and surprised.

"I know who you're talking about!" Aly said with excitement. "I see his ads on the TV all the time." 

"That's the one," Meka said. "Gwen was there. She helped."

"Oh really?" Hawk asked with arched eyebrows. 

Matt looked at me slacked jawed.

"I wasn't in it you lolos I just helped with the filming," I said quickly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to out you," Meka said, "Gwen was a fine assistant too. May I use the laptop? It would be easier to show than tell."

After a few clacks of the keys from Meka, we all took turns looking at still photos of petite and pale Cassie Kahakaloha making love to her two Hawaiian hunks. 

It occurred to me that most of the stills were taken by me and they were very good. My favorite was of Cassie doing the cowgirl with Rudy, her eyes closed and focused, her right hand gripping Harry's erection held close to her face. The contrast of Cassie's pale face to the dark plumb-brown cock in her hand was striking. I noticed that in all the shots Harry's face never showed. I assumed that it was intentional.

"That Rudy guy is stunning," Aly said. 

"Let me bring up the movie clip," Meka said. It was the clip of Rudy on his knees holding his wife up as Harry, also on his knees, fucked her. Harry's face was digitally blurred in all the shots. Surprisingly, the shot of me near the end was left in. 

"I thought you were going to cut that out?" I asked Meka. I wasn't mad at her, just surprised. 

"I was," Meka said, "but Cassie wanted to keep it in. Probably should have told you but I didn't expect this to go viral. Sorry."




Naked Portraits Pt. 10



"Who leaked it you think?" I asked as I watched Cassie rolling her hips frantically on the laptop.

"They did it for the publicity is my guess," Meka pondered. "It worked for Paris Hilton. After her little porn thing hit the net everyone had her on their minds."

"Play it back," I wanna see Gwen again," Hawk demanded.

The male gaze to the tenth power I thought as the camera focused on me kneeling in the sand. 

"You've been a naughty girl on Maui," Matt said.

"A lot less naughty then you at the writers conference in Lahaina," I said offhandedly.

"You know about that?" he asked shocked. Quickly his eyes found Hawk to gave him an accusing look.

"Don't blame Hawk," I said, "I saw your story and read it."

"You have something to share?" Aly asked Matt.

"Tell the story of deputy Sheriff Santos," I insisted.

"Better yet you should read the story aloud," I suggested.

"Good! Someone else is in the spot light," Aly said with vengeful glee.

"Don't have it on me," Matt said.

"That's easily remedied," Hawk said as he took charge of Aly's laptop.

"Technology is a amazing," Matt said sheepishly as Hawk shoved the laptop his way.

"Maybe you should put it on Literotica, too," I teased.

Matt declined to read the story aloud claiming he was bad at reading his own work. Aly happily volunteered to read for him. Throughout the reading, Matt avoided my eyes. 

At the end of Matt's elevator adventure with Stephanie Santos, Meka said, "Good lord, you guys are a living Penthouse Forum letter." She stood up and swung her bag over her shoulder. "I have to TA Asian art history in the morning. Thanks for a fun evening Aly."

"You okay to drive?" I asked her.

"No way, this princess is calling a pumpkin," Meka said as she dialed for a cab with her cell. 

"I'll leave a note for the landlords not to call a tow truck on your car," Aly said. 

"Don't worry," Meka said. "I've known those old queers for years. They know my car." 

"They're gay?" Aly asked shocked at the news. 

"Yeah," Meka said surprised that Aly was surprised. "Brian Tutsuku and Mark Oshita — he goes by Oshi — are as gay as they come. Did I just out them to you guys?" 

"Ah, yeah," Aly said. "And all this time I thought that I got this place for such a reasonable price because I'm a hot looking chick."

Meka laughed. "Sorry but I think the old guys just simply like you."

I was surprised that they were gay too. I didn't know the pair personally but I have known of them for years. Brian Tutsuku still sat on a couple of boards at the university. 

"Those guys can throw a mean party," Meka added with a knowing smile. "Thank you all for a stimulating evening." Her eyes flickered to Hawk and Matt and then to Aly and then back to me. She gave me a raised eyebrow and I gave her a shrug. 

"I'll go wait with you. I want more dirt on my landlords," Aly said.

"Me too," Matt said. "With all the wine and champagne I could use some air to clear my head."

"And bum a smoke from Meka," Hawk added.

"I take the fifth," Matt said following Aly and Meka out the door. Matt was trying to quit smoking because cigarettes were outrageously expensive in the islands. Paul Gleason kept his supplied. The trio stomped down the wooden front steps leaving Hawk and me alone. 

"I think Matt is avoiding you," Hawk theorized with a crooked grin.

"He should be, keeping the chick a secret like that," I said. "You ever tell him about the way we met her again at the dig on Maui?"

"I will now," he said with a chuckle. 

My hand explored Hawk's lap and stroked the steel in his shorts. "Looks like all the dirty stories has got you going I see ... Fucking perv."

"You the perv girl. Get your hands off me," he said as he slapped my hand off his lap and jumped to his feet in mock offense.

"Come back here so I can grope you better," I said. He made to run and I got up to chase after him, he hardly made an effort to get away. I caught him and we kissed near the hall entrance.

He cut the kiss short and said, "Cool your jets girl. No hanky panky until we get home."

I pouted but agreed. We took the time to look at some of Aly's angels instead of making out. 

"I like this one," Hawk said holding a curvy naked, golden winged figure in his hands. The thing's tits appeared enormous because of its slim elfish limbs and body. 

"You miss big tits?" I asked. 

Before he could answer that dangerous question, Aly, Matt and Meka returned to the house. 

"That cab diver was amazingly creepy," Aly said.

"Yeah," Matt said, "he kept checking Aly out and he called her something weird."

"He called you a liner," Meka said.

"What was that all about?" Aly said. "Liner? Really? Do I look like I do drugs?"

"I'm good to drive," Hawk volunteered. 

"That would be really sweet," Meka said. She looked at Matt. "Why don't you come too? I have a friend that might pay you for some ghost writing if you're interested. We can talk on the ride to my place." Matt looked surprised but nodded. Meka said to me, "In my rush to get out I forgot to mention, I have a connection at the China Cup Coffee House. An artist dropped out from the line up and he needs someone to fill the gap. I gave him your name. If you want it the slot's yours."

My eyes went wide. The China Cup showed edgy stuff and could sometimes launch a Honolulu artist's career. In a nutshell, it was a big fucking deal. 

"When?" I managed to choke out. 

"April next year?" Meka said knowing how short notice this was. "Call me in the next two days if you want the spot."

Everyone left leaving Aly and I alone. 

"This China Cup thing a big deal?" Aly asked. 

I nodded too stunned to speak.

"Congratulations ... I think," she said with a bewildered laugh. "Looks like you need more champagne." I offered my glass up and she filled it. I gulped down most of the glass in one long unladylike draw.



Naked Portraits Pt. 11



Chapter 51: Confessions of a Wisconsin Beauty Queen 

"Tell me how you, Hawk and Matt hooked up," Aly asked as she filled my glass. 

In the mood to share, I told her everything. I even told her about the encounter with the Emiko and Kira Kokura.

"I'm so fucking boring," Aly said with awe. 

"Noah at the golf course sounded hot and Hawk said you had a drunken thing with two guys down by the river," I said doing my best Chris Farley. I was that drunk. 

"The river stuff is all lies," Aly confessed. "One of the two guys passed out drunk and never got out of the car. The second guy puked on the sand a couple of minutes later and then passed out too. But Noah was the real thing and I can get used to Hawaiian boys." She smiled probably thinking of Rudy Kahakaloha. 

In my drunken state, I tried to focus. I marveled at how exotic Aly looked as she casually pushed a lock of her sun streaked blonde hair away from her beautiful Asian face. The judgmental part of me said ... dye job totally.

"You came to check me out today," Aly said.

I moaned and covered my face in shame. "Busted," I said trough my fingers. 

Aly laughed. "I checked you out a week ago. I'm just a better spy then you." 

"You lied about something else besides the river thing," I said returning the embarrassing favor. 

"About what?" she asked with a frown taken aback by my abruptness. So was I for that matter. I blamed the wine.

"I Googled you. You lied to us about being the runner up in the Miss Wisconsin contest. You were crowned Miss Wisconsin. You were the runner up in the Miss America contest." 

She sat silent. 

"Why not tell, why keep it a secret?" my drunk brain demanded to know.

"People treat you different when they find out you're a beauty queen," she said with a crestfallen expression. "When I met Hawk, I wanted him to accept me for more then my looks." 

"But you used your good looks to seduce him," I stated flatly. 

Her face scrunched up then relaxed and went neutral. 

"Okay, here's the God's honest truth," she said. "Hawk is my type, intellectual, tall, blond, athletic and I fibbed about my beauty queen career out of insecurity." Aly rolled her eyes. "This is going to sound sooo stupid. The three of you are so interesting and not just because of the sex thing. Hawk is a globetrotting archeologist, a living Indian Jones and a world class surfer just as a side thing. Matt is a writer, a deep thinker with a sharp wit. You are a practicing artist, beautiful, dark and edgy. Even your tall friend Meka is so fucking intriguing. Alyson Reese the beauty queen? Just didn't seem to fit." She sighed and seem to deflate on her end of the sofa. 

My God. This beautiful woman really is insecure. And all this time I thought beautiful people with insecurities were an urban myth.

"Isn't Alyson Reese the genetic doctor ... whatever somewhere in the picture?" I asked almost irritated. 

She reached for her glass and took a big gulp. 

"Would you like to hear the sad strange and probably very stupid story of a beauty queen from Wisconsin?" she asked sheepishly. 

I looked at my wrist pretending I had a watch.

"I got the time and you got the wine." 

She nodded refilled our glasses and I listened. 

"I grew up in a small town call Hill Forest twenty miles from Madison, Wisconsin. I always wondered about the name of the town because there were no hills anywhere to speak of and no forest for miles around. Perhaps the town fathers were wishful thinkers or maybe they had a sly sense of humor. I would bet on the former though. From its onset, the town of Hill Forest was staunchly Evangelic, ultra conservative with Tea Party leanings leaving little room for ironic humor. 

Ballinger College was our little town's claim to fame voted as the number one Evangelical college in the Midwest. Ballinger was my destiny. After high school, I was expected to enroll there, major in something pointless and marry an up and coming Evangelical minister and hope that he gets a TV ministry.

My father is Korean-German and my mother German-Swiss. Both are tall and I got all the height in spades and somehow, I got my mom's blond hair. Being a tall blonde Asian chick in Wisconsin didn't seem so strange. Nearly half the population in Hill forest is tall and blonde, not many Asians though. Everyone assumed I had a little Russian in me so I managed to blend in well enough. Here in Hawaii though, I'm a sideshow freak.

"Just like Debra Cho in your story," I said. 

Aly laughed. "Anyway, my destiny was seriously altered when on a lark, I entered the Miss Wisconsin contest. To make a long stupid story short, I won. My family was very happy for me mostly because a scholarship came with the honors of being crowned. Everyone assumed I would put the scholarship toward Ballinger. And I planned to ... right after the Miss America contest in Vegas. 

To show you the kind of hick I was, I thought Madison, Wisconsin was wild and breathtaking. But man oh man; the city of Las Vegas was a completely new universe of sin and temptation. Two chaperones, hand picked by my parents from my local church, accompanied me. But a wild hair had worked its way up my butt and I lost them every chance I got. 

My bewildered chaperones sent back shocking reports of my deplorable behavior: staying out all night, going to clubs and parties, drinking, making out with guys I hardly knew, but no drugs. I wasn't sure if they tested for drugs in the Miss America Pageant so I played it safe staying away from all that. Anyway, my parents were totally freaked. But since they were so far away, they could nothing about my bad behavior. 

"Ironically, I lost to Miss Hawaii. And like every other pageant runner up in history, I burst into tears, but unknown to everyone in TV land, I was crying tears of happiness. I wanted to be first runner up. I didn't want the grand responsibility of being Miss America, I simply wanted to add more scholarship money to my war chest. 

"My parents picked me up at the airport. The local press showed up and I was glad for that because it put off the stern lecture that was coming. An impromptu homecoming parade was granted for my return and I waved and blew kisses like a true beauty pageant first runner up. After the parade my parents sat me down for the talk. 

The first thing my father asked was, "When do you plan on depositing your winnings into the joint account?" 

I told them, "I opened a new account at a different bank. 

"What do you plan to do with the Devil's money?" my father asked. 

I said, "I suppose that if I had put the money in the joint account then the money would have belonged to God?" I thought the comeback was quite clever. My dad turned red and my mom gave me dagger eyes. Since I was clearly in the shit house I added, "I'm not going to Ballinger. I'm enrolling at State College." As expected, they flipped. 

"You are under the Devil's influence for using your body to make money," my father said. My mom stood behind him nodding her head looking disappointed. 

"You guys just gave me a stinking parade for using this body!" I screamed at them.

Things got real ugly after that. All of my animosity and dislike for my misogynistic, oppressive, religious upbringing bubbled to the surface. I said some pretty awful things ... and so did they. I walked out of my family's home away from my old life and into my new one. I've been walking ever since." 

Aly sat silent for a few seconds before continuing. 

"After that day every decision of my life was a direct polar opposite of my Evangelical religious up bringing. I declared myself a science major throwing my hat on the side of secular godlessness. I went out of my way to pick a study that encroached on God's exclusive turf, human genetics. Even my decision to do my doctorate here in Hawaii was because of my childish rebellion."

"Really?" I asked. 

"In my sophomore year in high school, I joined the girl's basketball team. I played center of course and we were damn good. The team was invited to the Hawaiian Islands to play in a tournament. Everyone lost their minds when we got the word. My father was dead set against it saying that the Hawaiian Islands was a place good Christian girls should avoid, calling it a modern Sodom and Gomorrah. He complained to the school board and had the trip squashed. You can imagine how popular that made me with the team. Anyway, I finally got to go to Hawaii." Aly sighed and somewhere between a smile and a frown she downed the dregs in her glass and filled it again. 

I reached for my glass too and said, "My grandmother once told me that the best tomatoes come from bull shit." 

"What?" she said with a laugh. 

"If more people used their anger the way you have," I told her seriously, "there would be less dysfunction walking the streets."

"So what about you? Slave to your up bringing too?" Aly asked mostly joking. 

It was my turn for a bitter laugh.

"Yeah, pretty much," I said. "Two older brothers and being the youngest and female in a Japanese family, I was expected to achieve in school then marry well, but mostly I was pretty much ignored. As long as my grades were high and I didn't whore around and take drugs, I was left to my own devises. When I declared myself an art major in my second year at San Jose State, my parents paid a lot of attention. They flipped and demanded I pick a useful major like business, science or English, anything but art. In the serious majors, I could find a husband with a good career to take care of me."

"They actually said that?" Aly asked wide eyed. 

"No but I bet they thought that. I was so pissed at them. My whole life I've been an artist. From kindergarten on through high school I did nothing but art. How could they be surprised at my choice? I should have whored around and took drugs because apparently no one was paying attention. Anyway, they were so ticked off they refused to pay my next year's tuition. Betty, my best friend at the time, pleaded my pathetic case to her parents and her father offered to cover my tuition. My parents eventually paid up." I sighed and sat back in the lounge chair. I took a sip of wine and then said, "They've come around ... mostly."

"So you're shouting at your family, look at how GOOD I am and I'm screaming at mine look how BAD I am."

"We're a pathetic pair," I said with a hollow laugh. 

Aly leaned forward and clinked her glass against mine. We heard footfalls on the wooden steps outside and moments later the guys entered. 

Aly said, "Let's get in the hot tub."

Chapter 52 From Room to Room

"Great idea," Hawk said.

Matt looked at Hawk and said, "But you just told me in the car you were beat and wanted to head on home?" 

"Lolo!" Hawk barked with perfect local inflection and dope slapped him in the back of the head. 

"No make!" Matt barked back rubbing his head.

Aly laughed at the guy's antics. She stood up, pulled her top over her head and then pealed off her jeans reducing herself to sexy black lace panties and bra. The guys stared at Aly's spectacular figure, hell, so did I. The chick had me beat in every department. Well maybe not, my ass was just as shapely as hers. It might have been self delusion but I was placing a lot of hope in my shapely ass to compete with our blond Amazon. 

"Come on everybody," she said. "Don't leave me hangin'" 

The guys stripped down to their boxer-briefs. 

Aly looked at me, in fact, all of them were looking at me. Feeling a little self conscious about my figure, I joined the club and stripped down to my matching blue undies. Despite my worries, a hot shiver raced up and down my spine. I really liked taking off clothing with all those eyes on me. 

"I love your figure," Aly said.

"Wish I had yours," I said.

"Nonsense," Aly said, "I would give this up to look like you. I bet you eat whatever you want without and yet still look like that."

"She eats like a sumo wrestler," Hawk said.

"No make," I said, but it did warm me a little that Aly thought I had a nice figure ... although I would kill to have her tits. By the conspicuous bulges the guy's sported, I could tell they liked Aly's tits too. 

For a few seconds, Aly's eyes hopped from Hawk's crotch to Matthew's. Eventually, she pulled her eyes away, cleared her throat and led the way to the hot tub.

Oh my God, Hawk mouthed wordlessly to Matt as we followed Aly. Her ass looking spectacular with every step. She certainly walked as if she were a beauty queen on a runway. 

Because she IS a beauty queen I reminded myself. Can't compete with that strut ... or any of her for that mater. Get out of here! Grab Hawk and Matt! Get out of this house! Run away! Run away! 

I got a grip om my Monty Python moment of panic as we filed into the glassed in hot tub room. Aly went to a panel near the door and hit some switches. The soft sound of a motor kicked in and the water in the elevated tub churned with a gentle turbulence.  

"It will be perfect in about five minutes," Aly informed us. I couldn't help but look at her wonderful ass as she bent to test the water with her hand. And of course the boys were looking too. 

How far is she willing to go? I wondered. How insecure are you? I was willing to test that. "Let's get in the tub naked," I suggested.

After a brief hesitation, Aly said. "That's a swell idea."

"Boy's first," I said. "Give us a show." 

Aly sat down on one of the two deckchairs in the room her eyes on Hawk and Matt. I stretched out on my side like a Roman empress on the other deckchair, pleased that she was a little nervous. 

Matt and Hawk stood side-by-side facing us, they shared an odd little look between themselves making me wonder what their conversation was on the way back from Meka's. They slid their briefs down to the floor at the same time. 

"Wow," Aly said.

"Turn around. Show some ass," I said. They obliged. As usual, Hawk's ass looked as good as the first day I saw it, tight and a slight lighter shade than the rest of him. Matt didn't have much of an ass. When he swung back around his impressive erection came into view again, making up for his average backside. Then I had a depressing thought, did Matt think the same of my tits compared to Aly's.

Aly flushed red, her eyes locked on Matt's substantial member.

"Earth to Aly?" I asked amused. 

"Girls turn," Hawk said, his eyes unabashedly roving up and down Aly's near naked form. 

Hawk walked my way and nudged me off the deckchair. Aly tracked his bobbing erection with every step. I vacated the chair and stepped to the center of the room. Slowly, Aly got up and joined me. Matt slipped onto in Aly's chair to watch. For several seconds, Aly stood absolutely still with her eyes on Matt's big erect penis draped across his midsection. 

She's chickening out, I thought smugly. This is about to end right here. 

To show I was no chicken, I unhooked my bra and let it drop to the floor exposing my breasts and a hint of bikini tan lines. That drew the attention of the boys. Even Aly looked my way. A hot tingling enveloped me with all those eyes on me. Tingly and thrilled, I did a little pirouette to give everyone a few of my, shapely panty covered ass. With my back to everyone, I slipped my thumbs under the elastic and efficiently slipped my panties down my slim, smooth legs. At my knees, the panties dropped to the stoney floor and I kicked them aside. I had tan lines below too.

"One naked Japanese girl for your viewing pleasure," I said playfully. I looked at Aly to see what she planned on doing. 

With a blank expression, she unhooked her bra. I noted a tiny shake in her hands. The boy's watched intently. I anticipated more jealousy from my messy brain, but oddly, only sexual adrenaline flowed through me at the moment. 

Aly held her untethered bra in place with a hand over each cup. She turned her back to the guys then let the bra drop to the floor. She turned around with her arms crossed over her chest. After a self-conscious deep breath, she dropped her arms. 

I don't know about Hawk and Matt, but I was turned on by her shyness ... which was a little disturbing. Like me, Aly had tan lines too. I noted faint freckles on her upper breasts and arms. Her nipples and half dollar size aureoles were a matching shade of pink. Her stomach had a nice curve to it. In fact, she had nice curves everywhere. With her high end C-cups or maybe even D's She had what Betty would call a 50's figure. 

Aly slipped her black panties to the floor. 

"Oh my god!" I barked. "You really are a blonde!" Her pubic hair was platinum and sparse. I bet she rarely had to trim. 

"Nobody believes this is my real color," she said emphatically pointing at her head. 

"Maybe you should show your hoochie more often," Hawk said. 

Aly blushed but laughed. 

I marveled at her height and asked, "How tall are you?" 

"An even six bare foot," she said. "In heels I'm fucking Shaquille O'Neal." 

Hawk made a spinning motion with his hand requesting Aly to turn around. She obliged doing a slow self conscious turn. 

"That's some figure you got there," I readily admitted. 

The room was absolutely quiet for what seemed like forever. 

Finally, Aly said softly, "The hell with the hot tub. Let's do it."

I looked at the guys and their erections were their answer. 

"Okay," I said. 

We all looked at Aly standing demurely in all her naked glory. After a couple of seconds of quiet she asked, "Now what?" 

Like with the Kokuras, everyone was looking at me for answers. When did I become the group sex guru? I wondered. 

"Start with a simple kiss," I said. 

She stepped toward Matt surprising me. She confessed that Hawk was her type and I had assumed she would have started with him. Aly's eyes drifting down to Matt's glorious erection. I smiled a little. Mr. Happy has its own gravity field and it was clearly pulling her in. Matt looked up at her. His eyes flickered my way. 

"Kiss her lolo," I said almost laughing.

Matt stood from his deck chair. Aly quickly covered his mouth with an aggressive kiss taking him off guard. He quickly recovered though and his hands drifted over Aly's wonderful curves. 

Finally, ugly jealousy reared its head and I had to look away for a second. My eyes fell on Hawk unabashedly stroking his pale erection as he watched Aly and Matt kiss and grope. I drift over to Hawk, dropped to my knees, took charge his penis and took it into my mouth. He hissed with pleasure as I worked him deep down my throat as far as I could take him. This must be heaven for him, I thought, getting sucked while watching others make out. Apparently done with their kiss, Matt and Aly drew near to watch me work Hawk. Eddies of sexual current danced through me. I so fucking loved having an audience ... did this make me an exhibitionist too? My mind instantly went to the few seconds of me in Meka's little film. 

Seeming to sense my need to be viewed, Hawk moved my long dark hair to one side to give an unobstructed view of my busy hands and mouth. Hot moments with the Kokuras flashed in my head adding fuel to my need. I rolled my eyes up to look at Hawk, he in turn was transfixed on Aly inches away. This was an interesting reversal, the voyeur being viewed, and by a beautiful naked, Asian, blond Amazon to boot.

"You're very beautiful," Hawk said to Aly. 

"No ... you are," Aly said almost shyly. Her hand came into view and I watch her fingers glide across Hawk' muscled chest.

I freed Hawk from my mouth and arranged us on the padded deckchair so I could put both knees up on it. With my ass up high, I returned to working him with my mouth and hands. I felt Matt get behind me and slowly entered me. Matt and Hawk always knew what I wanted them to do ... and they were in great form tonight. Soon, the three of us got into a practiced slow pleasurable rhythm. Matt's hands roam over my breasts feeling both sensational and distracting. His heavy petting caused little hitches in our smooth three-way rhythm. Aly appeared on my left and sat on the edge of the deckchair. I rolled my eyes up to watch her bend in and kiss Hawk. One of Hawk's hands explore her full milky breasts. I experience a jealousy jolt but at the same time, my body vibrated deep from within as my orgasm worked it's way to the light.




Naked Portraits Pt. 11



"Oh shit!" Hawk exclaimed. 

At first I thought he was about to come. No big fan of swallowing semen, I quickly pulled him out of my mouth just as he tipped sideways off the deckchair. He's not coming, he's falling I realized too late as he pulled me down with him. Both Hawk and I instinctively grabbed at Aly for support. Aly yelped in surprise as she toppled to the floor with us. 

"Ouch!" I yelped as Aly tumbled on top of me, poor Hawk was on the bottom. Matt was the only one standing, his shiny wet penis twitched in the cooling air. I broke out in laughter and untangled myself from Hawk and Aly. 

Aly laughed too.

"So this is what it's like in an orgy huh?" Aly commented.

"We're usually not this graceful," I said. 

"Anybody hurt?" Matt asked.

"I'm cool," Hawk said apparently enjoying being at the bottom of the heap.

"Let's finish this some place more comfortable," I said as I accepted a hand from Matt to stand. 

"Aw, don't get up!" Hawk said. 

Both Matt and I helped Aly to her feet and with a hand from Aly, Hawk got up too. I was the shortest naked person in the room. I could help but look at Aly, the boys certainly were too. 

"What size bed do you have?" I asked Aly adding up everyone's height and mass. 

"California king," she said. 

"Good, were gonna need every inch of it," I said. 

Aly laughing as she led us to her bed. She took a short detour to her night stand to pull out a string of condoms. 

She handed them to me but I refused them. "Don't need them but it won't offend us if you use them. 

Aly put the condoms on the nightstand. "Want to pick up where you left off?" she asked. 

Curious as to what she will do, I said. "No you take it were you want." She coaxed Hawk onto the bed and applied a condom to stiff erection. Without a word, she crawled on top of him. Hawk steadied himself with a hand and she uninhibitedly lower herself onto his erection. I sat close and dipped my head to watch. I had never seen such a an intimate thing done outside of a porn movie. My eyes flickered up and I saw Mat on the other side watching just as intently. I held my breath as Aly worked all of Hawk in her, her face locked in serious concentration. When she had him all the way in, she sat still looking down at him (still holding her serious expression) tracing the muscles of his chest with the tip of her fingers. Slowly, she got to rocking. With each roll of her hips, she let out tiny gasp. 

"I want to suck on Matt as I get fucked," she said out of the blue. Well trained at fulfilling my demands while lovemaking, Matt was there to oblige her. 

"That's a hard one to maintain," I told her. "It easier if I'm taken from behind to give head and even then it's hard to stay focused with a dick moving in and out of you."

"Let the girl try," Matt said.

"Yeah, leave her alone," Hawk scolded from down under, clearly interested in watching Aly as he fucked her. 

Like a trooper, Aly's mouth covered the velvety head of Matt's penis. All too soon, she found out I was right. She freed Matt from her mouth and simply stroked him in time with Hawk's thrusts from under her. 

Unlike Hawk, I'm never satisfied as the observer. I waved Matt my way. He pulled free from Aly's grip and worked his way to my side of the bed. I coaxed him to his knees and took his erection into my mouth noticing it was still wet from Aly's mouth sending a dirty spike of sexual electricity through me. 

Man, I am hot to go tonight! 

"I have to kiss you!" Aly said desperately. At first I thought she meant Matt so I freed him from my mouth, but it was Hawk she speaking to. Aly drop for the kiss, but inches from claiming her kiss, the unmistakable spasm of an orgasm jolted her. 

She bolted up in a sitting position. "Grab my tits, don't stop fucking!" she demanded. "I want Matt in my mouth now." 

I wasn't the only one hot to go tonight apparently. The girl was certainly enjoying the moment. 

Matt untangled himself from me, got to his knees and guided his erection to Aly's mouth. Moments after her mouth covering the head of Matt's hardon, her second orgasm hit. Her hands clutched at Hawk's chest as she quaked and bucked. She let Matt drop from her mouth to take in deep breaths. Hawks hands gripped Aly's full breasts, her hands flashed up to cover his to make sure he stayed where she needed them. I noticed red marks on Hawk's chest from where Aly's fingers had dug in. 

Sated and spent, Aly lifted herself off Hawk and lay on her side next to him. 

"Sorry," she said noticing the marks she made on Hawk's chest.

"That looked like fun," I said and crawled on top of Hawk's reclined form. 

"Gonna wear me down to a nub," Hawk complained.

Ignoring him, I snapped off the condom, steadied his erection and lowered myself onto him. 

With my hands planted on either side of Hawk's head and his hands at my hips, we got moving. All too quickly, on an upward rise of my hips, I froze.

"Holy fuck," I whispered then slammed down hard with my hips. The entire bed and maybe the whole house, vibrated from my orgasm. When I calmed, I noticed I was bending low and Hawk's hot mouth was mere inches from mine. I kissed him tenderly and then sat back up. 

"Aly scratched you up good," I said running my fingers over the injured area on his chest. 

Hawk propped himself on his elbows and looked at his chest.

"Gnarly," he said. 

"Sorry about that" Aly said sitting cross legged next to Matt. 

"No big ting," Hawk said in perfect pidgin making me laugh. 

Aly gently slapped at Matt's erection sticking straight up from his lap. "That thing defies the laws of physics," she said in playful awe. "Let's take it for a spin." She applied a fresh condom to his erection, shooed Hawk and I to one side and plopped in the vacated spot on her back. Hawk and I watched as Matt enter her slowly. "Hard and fast," she said. Matt obliged starting with his first forceful plunge. He got moving at a good clip, and with every thrust, her breasts bounced hypnotically. 

"My chest doesn't do that," I complained. Hawk nodded, enraptured by the effect of Newton's laws on Aly's wonderful full breasts.

Aly's moment arrived. Around gasps she exclaimed, "Oh sweet Jesus!" 

She gripped Matt's slim ass and held him in deep. Her hands slipped off his ass and her arms fell stretched out over her head. "This was such a great fucking idea." She stated then started to giggle, then broke into laughter.

"I think you guys have fucked her stupid," I said.

That made her laugh more. After calming a bit, she said, "One more big boy." 

Aly's boundless energy got me going again too. I nudged Hawk and then got on my hands and knees making it clear what I wanted from him. He entered me from behind. The position allowed me to watch Aly and Matt fuck. Aly and I came at about the same moment. Matt exploded seconds after. Hawk came deep inside me a half minuet later. We lay on our backs boy, girl, boy, girl on Aly's California king breathing hard, staring at the ceiling.

"Moments like this makes me wish I smoked," Aly said.

Matt and Hawk got off the bed and left the room. Hawk returned with two warm wet hand towels and Matt followed with two icy bottles of Coronas.

As we cleaned up, Aly said, "I can get used to this." Matt handed her a beer. Aly said as she accepted a glass of sparkling wine from Matt. She swallowed close to half of it half and gave to Hawk who finished it. Matt handed me the remaining me the other beer and sat down on the bed. Aly leaned over and kissed Matt. 

"Thanks," she said. 

"It's your beer, I should be thanking you," Matt said with a small smile. 

"No, for everything," She said returning his smile. She leaned in and kissed Hawk too. I gave a small laugh as Hawk's penis twitched and started to grow. I saw Matt's dick stirring too. Aly looked to see what I was getting on about. Astounded, she gripped Matt's growing erection in one hand. 

"No way, I am totally fucked out," She said. 

She was wrong of course and we did it again.

Chapter 53 Breakfast at Aly's

I woke to the smell of fresh brewing coffee and baked cinnamon rolls. Both smells were near narcotic allowing me to ignore the dull pounding in my head and the tender ache from between my legs. 

I nudged Matt. He stirred then bolted to a seated position. "I smell cinnamon rolls!" he barked. 

We dressed with whatever we found at hand. I slipped on Matt's t-shirt that came to mid thigh on me and didn't bother with anything else. Matt donned a light-blue bathrobe decorated on the front with large pink flowers. I looked at myself in the mirror over the dresser and pointlessly shoved at my bed wild hair and then I followed Matt down the hall to the alluring morning smells of coffee and fresh baked goods. 

We found Hawk and Aly standing in the kitchen with steaming mugs of coffee in their hands. Both were dressed in matching cream, terrycloth robes. Hawk kissed my cheek, he smelled freshly showered. I wondered if the pair had showered together. 

Matt surprised me by kissing Aly lightly on the lips. Apparently it surprised Aly too. She looked over at me to gauge my reaction. I smiled, walked over to her and gave her a hug. 

"You made coffee and rolls. You're my hero," I said.

"Just Pop n Fresh," Aly said with a tiny bewildered laugh. 

"Been up long?" Matt asked.

"Yeah," Aly said. "Hawk and I went for a run." 

"Nice robe," Hawk said to Matt. 

"All the cool guys are wearing it," Matt said as he lifted two sticky cinnamon rolls from the pan to a plate. Aly poured us two mugs of coffee. Hawk sat on the counter near the sink, Aly stood leaning against the fridge. Matt and I sat on tall stools on the living room side of the kitchen counter. A long silence settled as we sipped coffee and scarfed sticky buns. 

"Last night was fantastic," I said breaking the silence. I looked T Aly. "Would you like to join our little group?" The two guys nodded. Aly smiled. Just like that she was in. 

"Everyone up for a morning mimosa?" Aly asked.

"If it comes with an Advil chaser," I said. 

"What's a mimosa?" Matt asked.

"What planet is Ohio on again?" Hawk asked.

Aly mixed a bottle of Mums champagne with an equal amount of orange juice into a pitcher. After locating four tall champagne glasses, she handed out ibuprofen to any takers then led us to the hot tub room. Aly dropped her robe setting the mood. 

How can someone look so perfect naked? It simply wasn't fair the jealous part of me groused. I pulled my borrowed t-shirt over my head. 

Naked and armed with mimosas, the four of us sat in the hot tub talking and laughing about everything and nothing. 

The hot water, painkillers and champagne did wonders for my hangover, and amazingly, I found myself in the mood for more lovin'. I looked at the others to gauge the mood. Aly was seemed suddenly quiet. Then I realized Hawk was clearly fingering her underwater. Aly lean into Hawk and they kissed. 

We certainly are a horny bunch I mused. 

Assuming that Matt was as hard as advanced Chinese algebra, I drifted his way in the full tub and sat on his lap. My assumption proved correct as I encircled his wood with my slim thighs. Matt absently fondled my breasts and pinched my pert nipples as we watched Aly and Hawk kiss and grope. 

After their kiss, Hawk sat on the edge of the tub and I watched Aly gave him expert head. Matt untangled himself from me and sat on the edge of the tub exposing his large member to the steamy air, clearly hoping the same from me. Obliging, I floated between his legs and took the head of his cock in one hand, his balls in the other. I pulled myself up and kissed him tenderly on the mouth as my hands worked his shaft and balls. At the end of the kiss, I looked back at Hawk who was still sitting on the edge of the tub with Aly snuggled between his legs facing me, her full breasts above the water line. 

"Take me from behind," I said to Hawk then covered the head of Matt's hardon with my mouth. I felt the water swell and rise as Hawk settled behind me. He then guided his erection between my legs and entered me. I had never had sex in water before and it felt great. All too soon though, we saw the ill effects of gravity and motion on a body of water and after losing a high percentage over the edge of the tub, we called a halt, toweled off and moved the action to firmer ground, namely Aly's big bed again. 

"The guys should give us head," I said as I threw myself in the air and landed on my back with a bounce. Aly slid in beside me but her face showed a lack of enthusiasm. "You don't like head?" I asked her. The guys settled in around us and started to explore our bodies with eager hands, mouths and darting wet tongues. 

"I've had a few guys give me head but never got into it," Aly said as Matt fondled her full firm breasts. He pushed her blond hair aside and nuzzled the back of her ear. She tilted her head to allow him easy access to her neck; he kissed his way to her shoulder. 

"Well, It sounds like your few guys didn't know what they were doing," I said casually gripped Hawk's erection as he bent to kiss one of my dark brown nipples. I closed my eyes and made purring sounds as Hawk's teeth encircled a stiff nipple applying gentle pressure. I opened my eyes and said, "The all-time master of cunnilingus is kissing your neck as we speak." 

"Is that true? You a master of cunnilingus?" She asked Matt with a dubious look. 

"Matt, give her a sample of your skills," I said. 

"And what makes you think you're the boss of me?" Matt complained. 

"This," I said running two fingers down the warm opening between my legs. 

Hawk laughed and said, "The pussy rules." 

Matt laughed, cajoled Aly onto her back and settled between her spread thighs. 

"And you," I said to Hawk as if I were a queen up high, "work your way down to where it matters." Hawk grunted but obeyed. I closed my eyes to enjoy the sweet ride. 

Hawk hardly got started when Aly exclaimed, "Oh fucking God!"

Hawk stopped his attentions; I propped up on my elbows and looked over at Aly lying with her hands over her face taking in short hot breathes. I smiled for I had had the exact reaction to Matt's skilled attentions that first time ... and every time since. 

Aly grabbed a fist full of Matt's scraggly long hair, pulled his head away from her crotch and started rambling. 

"That was my first oral orgasm of my life ... I never thought it would ever happen ... I assumed all the girls who told me that they had orgasms from oral copulation were liars ... Oh my god! That was amazing! Where did you learn to do that? I should pay you! Get my credit cards, max them out, fuck, just keep them."

Matt smiled smugly as he bobbed back down hopping kisses from one smooth milky thigh to the other. 

"I'm spent and gone. I don't have another in me," Aly said as Matt prepared to work her again.

I smiled; she was about to find out how totally wrong she was. 

As he did last night, Hawk took me from behind so we could watch the others. I wondered if I was becoming a bit of a voyeur myself. In carnal synchronicity, Aly, Hawk and I came as one. Pleasantly spent I lay on my side to rest. The Beatles, Come Together filled my head. Hawk snuggled in behind me.

"Oh my Lord Jesus," Aly said converting back to her old religion. "I owe you head big time," she said to Matt. 

"Let him give you a pearl necklace," Hawk suggested. 

"This isn't a porn set you twisted fuck," I said, and punctuated my protest with a backward jab to his ribs.

"What's a pearl necklace?" Matt asked sitting on the edge of the bed cross-legged.

"You really don't know dude?" Hawk asked.

Aly laughed. "It's a titty fuck and when you come I get a wet pearl necklace," she said pantomiming a sting of pearls high on her chest with a finger. "It sounds like fun." She stuffed a couple of pillows behind her for support and got Matt to straddled her upper torso. Aly smiled up at him as she squeezed her full breasts around his erection.

Is she trying to impress us at how dirty she can get?

But I didn't think so; I felt the girl's lust streak was genuine and I wondered, what more is behind those pretty green eyes? 

Matt pulled back his penis until the head disappeared then thrust forward again making it reappear. 

Not fair, I can't do that for a guy, I thought with a great deal of envy. 

"That looks interesting," Hawk said. His interest was evident by his twitching erection against my naked ass. 

"We should lube these girls up,"?" Aly said. "I keep a bottle of oil for ... um ... personal use in that bedside drawer." 

I crawled over Hawk purposely dragging my small tits across his face to remind him of their existence. I pulled the drawer open and saw the bottle of oil next to a sleek, black battery powered vibrator. I pulled out the bottle of oil then crawled back over Hawk, but this time, brushed my pubic area across his handsome face. I giggled as he flicked out his tongue and managed a tiny lick at my passing clitoris. I handed the bottle of oil to Aly, who poured a liberal amount onto her chest. Matt happily offered his assistance in distributing the oil over Aly's enviable pair. 

"The oil heats up," Matt's said with a huge grin as he got back into his titty humping position With a sly smile, Aly squeezed her shiny breasts around his happy erection. 

"Aw dude, that's gotta feel good," Hawk commented. 

Matt thrust his hips and we all watch the head of his erection appear then disappear again and again at the top of Aly's breasts. 

Aly started to giggle. 

"It tickles?" I ask. 

"No ... I can't believe I'm getting turned on by this," She said. Her giggles turned into a sexy husky laugh. 

Matt gripped the top of the headboard for support and picked up the pace. Just over a minute's worth of slick thrusts later, Matt froze with several inches of his hardon poking out from between Aly's breasts. Suddenly, a huge jet of white sprayed the under side of Aly's chin and neck.

"Banzai!" Hawk barked as more ropes of cum soaked Aly's neck. One strand splashed a little higher and and striped her full lips down the middle. 

"Oh-my-god, I've become a porn star," Aly said as she delicately dabbed at her mouth. 

Matt slipped off her. Hawk left the room and returned with a hand towel and handed it to Aly.

"Such a gentleman," she said and as she cleaned off her face, neck and chin. Hawk stayed standing looking down at her. Aly's eyes focused on Hawk's fresh erection.

I hunted for the string of condoms, freed one and handed it to Hawk. "You might want to suit up," I said. 

I sat cross-legged on the bed and watched Hawk apply the condom and then enter Aly. Matt settled in beside me. 

In sweaty delicious bliss, Aly and Hawk went at it. 

Aly complicates things. None of this can last. You're in for some serious heartache, the analytical part of my brain informed me. Matt started trailing a line of kisses along my neck and shoulder. I gripped his penis and it twitch with interest. Lizard brain took over nudging my logical brain aside.



Naked Portraits Pt. 12



Notes from the author:

Hello reader. In parts 9, 10 and 11, I introduced Alyson Reese. The real person Alyson is based on is described as Asian, tall, shapely and blond. All of that was clearly stated on the flash drive I had accidentally procured from my old job. Read the introduction in part two for the history of the flash drive if you like. Of course I was guessing at the color of her pubic hair. Hell, I don't even know if a person with dark hair in their family background can even have blond hair, let alone blond pubic hair. According to my editor, pure blond pubic hair is just an urban myth and exists only in Japanese animated porn. I know I can go on line and get all the facts on pubic hair, but I like the idea of Alyson Reese being blond allover, so I'm sticking to the myth.

Speaking of my editor... he's been dogging me to pare down my chapters again. He thought the Alyson Reese golf course scene gratuitous and that it meandered too far from Gwen Yoshimura, the principal star. The little story came together from a hand full of email corespondents on the flash drive between Alyson and a friend. No way I was going to leave it out.

Enough pointless notes. Enjoy the story. 

**********

Chapter 54 Visits From Queen of the Nile and Goddess of the Sea

Alyson Reese, Aly to her friends, Asian, naturally blond, impossibly tall, genetic scientist and reluctant former beauty queen, changed the dynamics of the group. The anthropology and biology buildings were right next door to each other on campus making it easy for Aly and Hawk to hook up on a daily bases. Naturally, everyone assumed that they were a couple and since they were academic equals, there was no stigma connected to the relationship. Of course I didn't like it at first, but at the same time it was kind of a relief. I always worried Hawk could get fired for dating a student, even though I'm a graduate. Matt and I are seen together more often than Hawk and I, so everyone assumed we were a couple too. The only people who knew the truth about the group thing was Paul Gleason and Meka Okuda.

Anyway, the moment Matt was done with a class, he'd head my way. He really enjoyed showing his affection for me in public, and to be honest, I dug it too. Matt is loving and silly, opposite Hawk, who is always so manly and reserved. 

Matt did have a moody side though, and it manifested when he was working on a story. As an artist, I TOTALLY understood that side of him. Occasionally, we would get together in my studio, he would write and I would paint. Usually, I don't like company when I'm painting, but sometimes it was nice having someone like minded to brood with. But mostly, Matt gives doubly spectacular head when he's brooding. I can't say why but I'm not knocking it. Aly learned that about him too and has taken to inviting him over to her place when he's in the mood to write. Lucky for me, Matt seemed to like writing in my grubby little studio more. 

When the four of us got together off campus I'd hang off of whichever lover I wished. Aly particularly liked having both guys draped on her. I kind of liked that too but was never totally comfortable doing it in public. And sometimes it was tough sharing the guy's affections with her in view of others. In private, though I have no problem whatsoever. No way I could I have done this with my old friend Betty. 

My head returned to the here and now, it was Friday and my bimonthly portfolio review had just ended. As I packed away my portfolio, I marveled at how well it had gone considering I didn't show a single painting, which was ironic, because I was in the middle of a very productive period. But no way was I going to show my nudes to the review board. Not with Erma Beaumont still in the mix.

In desperation, I had submitted a stack of old charcoal and pencil drawings. The review board accepted my return to basics spiel, but I knew this was a one-time thing, and with the next review, I had better have paintings to show. Erma Beaumont, my neglected mentor and adviser, had sat silent throughout the review, offering no words of encouragement, or even discouragement for that matter. Her silence was a little unnerving, but I was glad for it. Apparently, Beaumont's heart was already in San Francisco thinking about her up coming one woman show. Near the end of the review, I offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Wahinelani my forest goddess on Maui. 

How did I go from a secular, non practicing Shinto to a an idol worshiping pagan?

Den Kang, head of figure drawing and painting was the last to leave. I've been meaning to talk to him about something big for a while. I decided that now was the time. "Professor Kang? May I have a word?" I asked.

"Is it about why you holding back your figure paintings from the review board?" He asked in his usual gruff fashion, his heavy local accent added a stern edge that made me cringe.

My jaw dropped. Aside from that one time when I audited his class a while back, there was no way he could have known I've been painting nudes, but apparently he did. I didn't know what to say.

"No worries," he said, "Your secret safe with me, but this review was big waste of time."

My cheeks turned red that he had seen through my ruse so easily, but I was also touched that he had kept it to himself. I was about to ask how he knew I was painting figures, but decided not to bother and went right to what I wanted to talk to him about. With a lump in my throat, I asked, "Will you be my adviser?"

He gave me a leveled look. "What about Erma?"

"We don't see eye to eye lately," I said, dropping my gaze, unable to look into his stern eyes.

"Very unusual to make this kind big change so late," he said. 

I could hear the disapproval in his voice. I looked up, ready to apologize for showing such disloyalty toward Erma, but Professor Kang spoke on.

"The review board will not look on this with favor. Make you look flighty, indecisive." 

I nodded, agreeing that it would put me in a bad spot. Kang went on.

"I go talk to the head of the portfolio review and put in a good word. I do my best make your case."

My eyes dropped again and my heart sank. The head of the review was Erma Beaumont. I was about to tell him not to bother, but he kept talking.

"Erma's big show coming up. Last week she step down and they picked new head."

I looked up in surprise and then nearly gasped when I saw that Professor Kang was doing something I had never seen him do in all the years I've known him ... he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

"I new head of review," he said. The grin disappeared like it never happened. "I your adviser now. Next time you show paintings, or I march you out! Understand!" His words were stern but his eyes still showed the Cheshire grin. He gave a little nod, hefted up his shoulder bag and left.

I stood with my jaw hanging open in shock and awe. "Fucking unbelievable," I said aloud. And for the second time today, I offered thanks to my goddess. Now all I had to do was inform Erma. I debated if I should talk to her face to face or shoot her an email. A cowardly email sounded much more appealing at the moment. 

I kicked the door of my studio open and dumped my portfolio in a corner. Sitting on my easel was a portrait of Matt done in the style of Vincent Van Gogh, the first non-nude I had done since I started in on painting portraits. I did the painting in an hour at Aly's house. We were all sitting at Aly's landlord's pool deck drinking beer and there sat Matt with his bearded chin in hand reading a book. It made me think of Van Gogh's Portrait of Dr. Gachet and I just had to paint him. In place of the old Doctor's white hat, Matt is wearing a Cleveland Indians baseball cap and a green t-shirt with the Heineken logo on the front. In the painting, like the Van Gogh original, Matt is resting his chin in his hand with the elbow propped on the table, looking out at the viewer. In Van Gogh's painting, the figure has some kind of flower resting on the table, in my painting Matt has a Budweiser and a paperback book laying open face down before him.

As I looked at the painting, a state of panic gripped me. Insanely, I had accepted the China Cup show slot come next April. 

That's not enough time! My artistic brain screamed at me. To add to my anxiety, I just found out from Meka the other day that Erma Beaumont was the artist I was replacing at the China Cup. Getting a show at the Cup was no small thing. The waiting list was years long. Meka told me the owner was livid when Beaumont jilted him. The guy was her number one fan and has bought scores of her paintings over the years. He was so pissed that he loved the idea of giving her spot to one of her defecting students. I suspect the idea was planted in his head by Meka. 

Impulsively, I pulled out my resent nudes to judge them worthy, but more to the point, did I have the guts to show them in public? A knock came at my door. It was a quiet knock, but in my hyper state it sounded like a bomb going off. My heart rate doubled as I hastily, threw a large piece of craft paper over Matt's portrait and returned the nudes to the rack just in case it was a member of the portfolio committee. Then a horrible thought occurred to me, Professor Kang had let Erma know I was dumping her as my adviser. 

"Fuck! I should have kept my big mouth shut!" I said in a panicked whisper. 

I was positive Erma was standing outside my door ready to lay in on me for my defection to the figurative. And worse! She knew I was taking her spot at the China Cup and came to tell me how unworthy I am on top of my disloyalty. 

"Cool your jets girl!" I said aloud. I took a deep breath to calm myself. 

I opened the door to find a pretty local girl, probably Filipino, with long dark hair, in jeans and a yellow shirt standing in the dingy hall. A substantial purple backpack hung on her right shoulder. She looked familiar but I couldn't place her. I was so relieved that it wasn't Erma Beaumont, I rudely stared at the girl and didn't say a thing for several seconds. 

"Sorry. I'm bothering you," The girl said in accented English. She dropped her eyes and turned to go.

My manners caught up with me and I said, "Hey wait, sorry, what can I do for you?" 

Without a word, the girl handed me a piece of paper she had clutched in her hand. It was a pencil drawing of an animal skull done on a piece of standard computer paper. The drawing triggered my memory; she was my impromptu biology lab partner of a month ago when I went to spy on Aly. But I was sure I knew her from somewhere else too ... but where? I looked at the drawing, it was done by a beginner, but one with heart and talent. 

"You did this?" I asked.

The girl nodded. 

"It's very good." I said. She was clutching a spiral bound Strathmore nine by twelve inch sketchbook to her chest. "Come in," I told her. She stepped into my studio and I closed the door. "May I see your sketchbook?" I asked, positive she had come to show it to me. She nodded and handed it over with a look of apprehension and relief. 

"My vole skull is not good like yours but I tried to copy it many times. That one is the best," she said. She spoke clearly and deliberately. Apparently English was a second language for her. But even with her strong accent, I understood her easily. The girl's sketchbook was filled with sensitive drawings of small animals and insects. Most were in pencil but a few were in ink. There was a drawing on almost every page, sometimes on two sides.

"They're all very good. Especially this one," I said holding up a detailed ballpoint pen drawing of a spider double or triple its natural size.

"I want to become an art major!" she blurted as if she were coming out to me. 

"Um ... Okay," I said perplexed and amused at her emotional out burst. 

"Are my drawings good enough? Can I be an art major?" she asked with honest anxiety.

I almost laughed out loud thinking of some of the untalented people I knew that have declared themselves art majors; Paul Gleason came immediately to mind. "You might want to bring this up with your parents," I said. I cringed for mouthing such a statement. Ever since declaring myself an art major, its been a rough road with MY family. 

The girl smiled for the first time. She went from pretty to radiant just like that. 

"My parents will be overjoyed at the news, happy that I made the decision," she said. "They liked my drawings too." 

"I'm glad," I said, envious of her obvious confidence in her parents support. "Is this your freshmen year?"

She nodded. 

"Okay. Go down to the art office and ask for an art major's class requirement sheet. Everything you've taken to this point will apply to the major. Are you in any art classes now?"

She shook her head.

"No worries. I'll give you a list of beginning instructors I like. I can make a list of text books they use too. You can find the books at the library. It'll give you a head start, but I don't recommend you buy any of the books because the list may change next term."

She beamed me a huge dazzling smile.

I stuck my hand out. "I'm Gwen Yoshimura art graduate extraordinaire. My focus is studio painting. What's your name?"

"Neffie," she said shyly shaking my hand.

"Neffie? Is that short for something?" 

"Nefertiti. My full name is Nefertiti Margarita Ulamat."

"Really?"

She nodded. "I have two older sisters one named Cleopatra and the other Hatshepsut."

"Hatshepsut? Really?"

She nodded. "Both my parents teach Egyptology. They met at the University of Manilla and now they teach at Palolo Valley College. I always wondered what they would name us if we were boys. "I'm soooo glad that I didn't get stuck with Hatshepsut. We called that sister soupy, and when we're fighting, Shit-soup."

I laughed. "I was thinking just that," I said as I reached for a pen and a piece of paper to write down the list of beginning teachers and text books. 

"I live paperless," Neffie said as she dug through her purple backpack, pulled a couple of things out that were apparently in the way of a sleek little laptop.

"How did you track me down?" I asked as she plopped the laptop on my desk, opened it and fired it up. 

"On line. You signed the drawing you gave me at bio lab, G. Yoshimura. That's all I had to go by. I Googled your initial and name, slash Honolulu University, slash art major. I got all I needed including your studio number."

"Really?" I asked mildly freaked that I was so easy to Google. 

"Yes. Tell me the classes and books, please."

I told her and her fingers raced over laptop keys. She shut her laptop, opened her sketchbook and tore out a drawing and handed it to me. It was the ballpoint pen drawing of the spider I had just admired. "That one is my favorite. I know it's not the best but it would honor me if you would accept it," she said shyly.

"It's a great drawing. I love it."

She shoved her laptop back into her backpack and made to leave. 

"Wait, I know you from before the bio lab," I said. "Where from?"

She paused with her hand on the door nob. After a couple of beats she said softly, "Truth or dare."

I shook my head, still lost. 

"In the hall of the dorm towers months back," she said close to a whisper, turning red with each word. "I was with my cousin Elmer. You were naked ... twice."

I recalled the night running around naked on Hawk's floor. I covered my reddening face and said, "I am so sorry. I don't know what had gotten into me that night."

Neffie giggled in spite of her embarrassment. "My cousin thought you were very pretty. He carries his phone in his hand when he walks in the hall hoping to get a photo of you naked, even when he goes to the shower. I thought you were pretty too." She gave a cute smile, a tiny wave and left.

Oh my God. The girl probably thinks I'm a perverted wacko. 

I pinned Neffie's spider to my crowded bulletin board. The girl had spent some time on the creepy thing, the detail was impressive. A knock at the door exploded and I jumped out of my skin. "You are so fucking wired today," I said with a laugh. I opened the door a crack to see who it was.

"Hiding from Beaumont?" Meka asked standing outside my door looking good in a black skirt and light blue top.

"You look nice," I said, letting her in.

"Perk of being an art history major. No mess," she said as she plopped her long body down on my beat up old loveseat. "How did the review go?"

"Good actually," I said, "but I'm in a shit storm next review if I don't show up with fresh paintings." I told her about my encounter with professor Kang.

"God almighty! Free at last!" Meka said clearly happy for me. "What are you hiding?" she asked as she eyed the painting covered with craft paper on the easel. I pulled the paper away from Matt's portrait. She barked a laugh at my parody of Van Gogh. "This is great kid!" 

"It was too much fun to be great." I said, but still beamed at her compliment. 

"I got an invite to a very exclusive club tonight. You wanna come?" Meka asked.

"Sorry. Can't. Me and the gang are going to watch Honolulu play San Jose at Mama Rosa's. You can come if you like." 

"No thanks. I'm in the mood for a club. Besides, I don't wanna be the fifth wheel at one of your orgies." 

"It's a public place," I said. "Odds are we'd leave our clothes on."

Meka laughed. It was deep and sexy. She looked stunning sitting with her long legs crossed on my loveseat. I'm sure the boys would LOVE for you to join the fun, I thought, but kept that comment to myself.

Meka stood to leave. "I'll find Sally and Oleander and give Emmett the best fag hag entourage on Oahu." She pulled something out of her shoulder bag. "Got you your very own personal goddess." She walked to my bulletin board and pinned an eight by ten black and white photo of Wahinelani in dappled sunlight next to Neffie's creepy spider drawing. "I was on Maui last weekend and took that photo. Enjoy the game." She left.

I grabbed my backpack and headed to the staircase to meet up with Aly at biology. As I bolted down the stairs, someone called my name. I stopped to see who it was.

Li Hong smiled sweetly down at me from a couple of stairs up. I had rushed right passed her. She wore designer jeans and a silk red top, her hair was a little longer, less boyish, more of a bob now, an expensive looking bag hung off one shoulder. The woman glowed with health and energy.

"Oh wow... hi," I said unable to hide my surprise.

"I've come to see you," the Olympic champion said. "Is this a bad time?" 

"No," I lied, too polite to say I was in a hurry.

"Good. Can we talk in your studio?"

I nodded and we tromped back to my studio. 

As I opened the door, I thought of our kiss in this very space a couple of months ago, then naturally, I rehashed our second kiss underwater a few hours later on that same day. As the door shut I worried she had came to get more of that. I hoped not. Plain and simple, I just wasn't into girls. 

First of all, you kissed the chick twice, my raunchy lizard brain said. And have we forgotten that moment with Betty in San Francisco? 

They were drunk, my logical side answered. 

And Emiko? Everyone was sober that time? lizard persisted.

It was one of those fleeting moments. Nothing would have come of it, logic reasoned back. 

Come on we're all curious here, lizard said. Why not find out what it's like?

Logic didn't dispute lizard on that point.

"You are gorgeous," Li exclaimed.

I"M NOT A LESBIAN! I nearly yelled at her. 

Fortunately, I had kept my mouth shut. She was commenting on the nude of me with the net float. The chick had started flicking through my stack of paintings without asking. How rude. 

Our eyes met and hot panic instantly seized me. My brain raced for a way to gracefully exit without offending her, but running in blind panic seemed my only option. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 12



"I bought a condo down town," Li said, "I want to buy one of your painting to put in it." 

She's here to buy some art! I thought with an inward sigh of relief. 

My lizard brain sulked and pouted.

"I want something controversial that screams coming out lesbian," Li continued. She picked up the seated nude with the net float and put it on my easel to get a better look. "This is wonderful."

"It's based on an object I found related to the goddess Li," I told her. I would have shown her the glass net float, but it was at home adorning a shelf at my apartment. 

A small smile touched the edges of her mouth. She said, "Li is the sea goddess in parts of China and Indonesia."

"I know," I said.

"My grandparents named me. They aren't Christians like my parents. In fact, my parents wanted to legally change my name to Linda when I was ten. Fortunately, my granddad would have none of that. This painting is karma. How much?"

My heart leaped with joy for I was flat broke. Without Betty in my life I was broke all the time it seemed. It didn't take me long to maxed out my two credit card. The Japanese in me deplored unpaid debt so all the money I had made with Meka in the last few months went to card payments. It's taken all of my will power not to run the cards up again. 

Before I could come up with a price for the painting, Li said, "Why don't we do a portrait of me?" 

"Um ... okay," I said.

"A nude! What could be more controversial than a naked portrait of me?" she said clearly excited by the idea. "How much for that?"

"Um ... nine hundred?" I said.

"Don't be silly," she said offhandedly. "I'll pay you four thousand, half now and half on completion." 

"Okay," I said totally stunned. 

She pulled an insanely large wad of bills held together with a thick rubber band from her black bag. All the bills appeared to be hundreds. Holy shit, I thought. That is crazy! How much is this chick carrying on her? She counted out some bills and handed me a stack. 

Not even considering that it might be rude, I counted the bills. At forty I said, "Um ... you made a mistake. You said half and this is the full four thousand."

"I'm buying this one too," she said pointing at the net float painting. "Is two thousand fair?"

I nodded too shocked to speak.

"If you don't have a title can we call it Goddess of the Sea?"

"That would be perfect," I said. I had to sit down on the loveseat as my head swam from how quickly this had all come about.

"Can I take it right now?"

"It needs a coat of varnish then it's all yours," I said.

"I'm so glad I came," Li said as she ran her fingers over my painted figure's face and then down to her breasts. She quickly pulled her hand away, perhaps realizing she was being a bit blatant. "Thank you," she said looking at me again. "I have a thing to go to downtown. Give me your cell and I'll call later so we can set up a time for me to pose."

"You don't have to mess with your schedule," I said as I scratched my number on a piece of paper. "I can work from photos. I'm sure Meka would help."

"I want to sit," she said with a smile. She took the slip of paper and left.

I looked at Goddess of the Sea resting on my easel. My eyes welled with tears for she was no longer mine.

Chapter 55 Olympia and a Visit From the Psych Department

With my fat wad of money spread out on my desk, I stupidly chanted, "I have four thousand dollars," over and over again while doing an undignified jig. 

I called Aly and told her about the sale. 

"Cool girlfriend," she said happy for me. "I'm running a little late. Give me a half hour?"

"I'm in the mood to paint so I think I'll skip the game tonight," I said.

"Won't be as much fun without you complaining about the over inflated budgets of collegian male sports," Aly said.

"Can't ignore my feminist imprinting," I said. 

Aly laughed. "Congrads on the sale. Have fun painting naked people." 

I called Hawk next to share the news.

"Cool," he said. "but I'm going to miss that painting. I liked it."

"Me too," I said. "I'm in the mood to paint. Okay if I skip watching the game tonight?"

"Gonna miss your anti sports commentary," he said.

"Fuck you," I said sweetly and hung up.

I called Matt.

"Hey painter chick. Whatssup?"

I told him about the sale and that I was oping out of the the Mama Rosa thing.

"Bummer," he said. "And since you're so loaded, it would be cool for once that one of us poor folk paid for the drinks."

I laughed. "With the spectacular head you give? I think Aly is happy to pay for your drinks."

"What about Hawk?" he asked.

"I got him covered."

"Good. I wasn't looking forward to giving him head too," he said with a chuckle. "Gonna miss you ragging on the wasted money spent on the sports program."

"Like I told Hawk ... fuck you."

"Love you too," he said and hung up.

I smiled warmly. He tells me that he loves me everyday ... unlike Hawk. In too good a mood to emotionally corner myself, I quickly pushed the thought aside. 

With a spring in my step, I headed to the campus book store with three crisp one hundred dollar bills in my back pocket. Two hundred dollars plus later, I struggled up the stairs to my studio with my new art supply booty. A gallon bucket of gesso seriously messed with my balance on the way up. At the top of the stairs, I lost control of a roll of canvas and as I shifted things around to hang on to it, the bag with all the tubes of paints burst open spilling plastic tubes down the stairs ... and then I dropped the canvas anyway. 

"Fuck it!" I barked, putting the bucket of gesso down at the top of the steps and then marched down to retrieve the canvas and scattered tubes of paint. At the bottom, someone was already there picking up tubes. It was Nefertiti Ulamat. 

"Hey, thanks," I said, surprised to see her back.

"I'm so glad it's you," Neffie said handing me tubes of paint. "I went all the way home and couldn't find a folder I need for a paper due on Monday. I think I left it on your desk. I've been hanging around an hour hoping you would show."

"Sorry, went shopping."

My arms were full with the roll of canvas and several loose tubes of paint. Neffie hung on to some of the tubes, took charge of the bucket of gesso and followed me to my studio door. I unlocked the door and threw the canvas and paints on the loveseat, Neffie put the gesso on my desk and picked up her folder that had blended in with the general mess.

"That's amazing," Neffie said as she took in the painting of me seated with the net float. "It's you. You're beautiful."

Forgetting that I had left it uncovered on my easel, I cringed. "Guess you get to see me naked again," I said sheepishly.

Neffie laughed. "My cousin Elmer will be so disappointed he can't see this." She studied the painting for a few seconds longer and then asked, "Can I watch you work on a painting one day?"

It was such an odd request that I didn't know how to answer.

"Sorry," she said with red cheeks. "That was too rude to ask."

"It's okay," I said, "it's just unusual. To be honest I can't think of anything more boring then watching someone else paint."

"I think it would be interesting," she said still looking at my painting. 

Then I had an interesting idea. "If you're free for the next couple of hours you might get your heart's desire." I sought out my cell. 

"Really?" she asked excited. "I wouldn't be bothering you?"

"You gotta help me set up, but sure," I said 

"Awesome," she said with a big grin. 

Five rings in, Aly picked up. 

"Hey," I said, "Come to my studio when you're done. I wanna paint you."

"Really?" Aly asked sounding surprised and thrilled. "But I'm suppose to meet up with the guys to watch the game?"

"They'll watch their misogynistic game and not miss you one bit."

"Not if I swing my tits in front of the TV screen," Aly said with absolute confidence of the outcome.

I sniggered. "That would be a memorable moment at Mama Rosa's for years to come. Bring your ponderous tits here and we'll put them to better use."

"It's gonna be a nude?"

"You forget who you're talking to? Of course it is! And ... um a fellow artist will sketch you as I work if that's okay." Neffie looked both thrilled and panicked at the same time.

"As long as it's a chick, sure," Aly said.

"It's a girl and she's very nice. Just bring your impossibly tall body over here." 

"I'll call the boys and tell them. I still have some paper work to do. Be there in forty five minutes tops." Aly hung up.

"My friend will be here in a little while," I said. "I've been playing with this idea for a painting of her based on Edouard Manet's Olympia. I have just enough time to rush to the library to get a couple of books for reference. Then we go to the drawing studio to get some stuff."

Neffie nodded, pulled out her laptop and in less than a minute, had the painting up on the screen.

"Okay ... never mind the library," I said and sat next to her on the loveseat. 

Thanks to Wikipedia, Manet's famous reclining naked woman glowed on the laptop screen. The figure's only clothing were a black ribbon around her neck and a single short heeled slipper on one foot. She lay on her back on a bed of white pads and pillows with a creamy shall under her lower half spilling out at her feet. Her figure was voluptuous and curvy, her skin ghostly white, a pink flower nestled in her hair. The figure's left hand rested deliberately on her lap concealing her womanhood. A clothed dark skin woman with an odd expression on her face, holding a pillow, looked at the reclined figure. A frisky black cat stood at the end of the bed near the nude woman's feet.

"She's looking right out at me," Neffie said.

"That look caused a stir in it's time," I said.

"She seems so serious," Neffie said. 

"More business like I would say. It's gonna cost you to move that hand in her lap."

Neffie giggled.

After a raid of the figure painting studio for pads and the like. Neffie and I took to setting up my studio for the pose. It was quite the squeeze in the tiny space and we had to move a lot of stuff around, but with Neffie's help, we got it all done just as Aly arrived. 

Neffie's jaw dropped. "Miss Reese?" 

"Nefertiti right?" Aly said. "You're in my Friday lab." 

"Didn't think about that," I said. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea Neffie.

"I will leave," Neffie said with crushing disappointment in her voice. 

"You will do no such thing," Aly said. "Gwen and I have talked about doing this thing for months. If she's comfortable with you being here then it's okay with me." 

I nodded, not daring to tell Aly I had officially met Neffie just hours ago. The girl could be a serial killer for all I knew ... or worst, a total gossip. 

"Besides," Aly said as she dropped her shoulder bag on the sofa, "I have someone of my own stopping over."

"Really? Who?" I asked curious.

Instead of answering, she asked a question. "Did you participate in a dream study at the psychology department a couple months back?" 

"Yeah ... just one time," I said guardedly, wondering how she found out. Only Paul Gleason knew I went to the study, but I was pretty sure he hadn't told a soul. Paul was rough around the edges, but the dude was loyal to his friends. 

"The money was good but things got hectic and I dropped out," I said. 

That was a lie. The real reason I dropped out was because I was too embarrassed to show my face after recording in detail my explicit sexual dream. It had been total porn filth. No way could I look some male grad assistant in the eye after all that. 

"Nelly wants to talk to you," Aly said.

"Who's Nelly?" I asked.

"Dr. Nelly Ling, she's head of research at the psych department. She's a friend, we met at a faculty social the first year I was here."

"How did she know that you and I are friends?" I asked mildly worried that someone from the psych department was hunting me down ... no, not just someone, but the head of research. 

"You put Hawk down as an emergency contact on your forms," Aly said. "Nelly knows I'm friends with Hawk so she contacted me about you. I told her you and I are friends too. It's very unusual for her to approach someone outside her department about a study subject. The woman is skating on thin ethical ice coming to me like that." Aly gave me a curious look. "What happened at the study?"

I tilted my head toward Neffie who was fussing with the drawing supplies I had loaned her. Aly got that I didn't want to talk in front of the girl. 

"Anyway," Aly said, "Nelly is stopping by to talk. If you don't want to see her, I'll call and tell her to back off." 

Curiosity trumped my mortification and I said, "No, it's okay, I'll talk to her."

Aly tested the makeshift bed Neffie and I had created with a couple of foam pads and a beanbag chair stacked on top of my cleared desk. Covering it all were a light green comforter and a white sheet, items I kept in my studio for times when I slept over on crunch days. 

Without being told, Aly started to strip. First went her white lab coat revealing a expensive looking salmon top and black snug slacks. She kick off her sensible flat black shoes. Aly never wore heels. At an even six feet, the last thing the chick needed was to enhance her height. Here in the Islands, the woman was an Amazon, taller then most men. She undid the slacks and let the garment slide down her spectacularly long legs revealing light blue panties. 

With short stolen glances, Neffie watched Aly. She did her best to keep her eyes on her borrowed drawing board but she was clearly mesmerized with Aly undressing.

"Never worked with a nude model before?" I asked the girl, amused at her shy fascination. 

Neffie's face reddened as she shook her head. 

The salmon top went over Aly's head and her long sun streaked blond hair crashed back down to her wide shoulders. The bra matched the light blue panties below. 

"Don't suppose you have hangers?" Aly asked with her lab jacket, top and slacks draped on one arm.

"What are hangers?" I joked.

Without being asked, Neffie stepped forward and took charge of Aly's clothes. Sitting on the loveseat, she expertly folded the items as neat as could be. Realizing Aly and I were watching her, Neffie said shyly, "My sister Cleo owns a dry cleaning service downtown. I worked there on weekends from age twelve through high school." She got up and put Aly's clothes on a relatively clean shelf near the door. 

"I could uses a good dry cleaner," Aly said. "I'll check her out." Aly unhitched her bra from behind lending her breasts to the forces of gravity with a cheery little bounce. 

Neffie eyes locked hypnotically on Aly's impressive pair as she stepped forward to take charge of the bra. Neffie was clearly an A-cup and I wondered what she was thinking. Then casually, Aly slipped off the panties. 

Here comes the best part, I thought with amused anticipation.

Oh!" Neffie exclaimed at the sight of Aly's pale triangle of hair. 

I let out a small laugh.

"Yes, this Asian chick is a real blond," Aly announced. She looked at blushing Neffie and couldn't help but tease her. "Please let the rest of the world know I'm the real thing. Okay?"

Neffie nodded solemnly and put the bra neatly on top of the stack of Aly's clothes. She looked a bit stricken, probably wondering if she should take charge of the panties too. Aly saved her the trouble by folding her shucked panties and putting them with her stack of clothes herself.

For the next half hour, I worked at arranging Aly for the pose and setting up the lighting. It wasn't so easy in my cramped little studio but Neffie's assistance made a big difference. I only had to tell her something once and she did it—a rare quality for a declared art major.

"You are so organized," I told Neffie as the girl fiddled with a spotlight to get it just right.

"Her work in my biology lab is outstanding," Aly said. "What's your major, kid?"

"Art," Neffie said, sounding proud and a little awed at her own statement.

"You're doomed girl," Aly teased making Neffie giggle. "Soon you'll be a clueless imbecile like Gwen here."

"Shut up," I said as I worked at getting Aly's legs just right.

Finally satisfied with the pose, I got to painting. Neffie moved around discretely, drawing Aly from different angles but made sure that she didn't get in my way. The girl was quiet as a mouse. 

It didn't take long for Aly to get bored. "Please stay still," I told her for what seemed like the hundred time. 

"This is harder than I thought it would be," Aly said. "Can I read a book or something?"

"No," I said flatly.

"Can I at least make conversation?"

"Go ahead but I tend not to talk when I'm painting."

"Then I'll talk to Nefertiti."

"Call me Neffie," the Filipino girl said shyly. 

"And you can call me Aly." 

Aly turned on her formidable charm, relaxing Neffie to a point where the girl could talk without blushing. Soon, the pair were chatting away. The banter didn't bother me, but I didn't say much as I floated in that place my brain goes when I'm focused on an art project. Matt called it the dusty mauve place after watching me for hours working on a painting with a glowing gray mauve background. 

"Who posed for Manet's Olympia anyway?" Aly asked Neffie. "Was she a prostitute or a mistress of the artist? Or what?"

Neffie put down her drawing board and clacked at the keys on her laptop, her cheeks, nose and forehead smeared with charcoal. 

"Victorine Meurent," Neffie said. "She was an artist too. Also, a musician, she played the violin and guitar and gave lessons in both. She had an extensive modeling career starting at the age of sixteen. She appeared in lot of Manet paintings. Most notable: Olympia, Luncheon in the grass and The Railway.

That last bit caught my ear.

"She's the same chick in The Railway?" I asked.

Neffie nodded.

"All my years of art history and I never knew that," I said with genuine surprise.

"I guess us models just disappear into obscurity while all you artists bask in the lime light," Aly said. 

"And that's the way it should be," I said arrogantly. "Tilt your head the other way I'm starting in on the face." 

Aly moved her face opposite of what I wanted so I stepped away from the easel, leaned in and adjust her head and hair. I looked down and saw that her hand was way off the mark too. Hands were hardest to paint and I needed that hand to be just right. I took her hand and moved it into place just above the swell of her pubic mound.

"In Manet's painting, the hand covers her belot," Neffie said.

"Her what?" Aly asked.

"Your pussy in Filipino," I translated. "I'm altering the pose. We get to see all her hairy glory."

"Hey, I'm bikini trimmed," Aly said, insulted. 

"You're so pale down there I don't know why you bother," I said. I looked at Aly's neatly trimmed mound. I casually brushed my fingers at the upper region where the hair started. My eyes went back up to Aly's face to make sure her head hadn't strayed. Her left eyebrow was raised as she gave me a curious look. 

Holy hell, I was practically feeling her up I realized. I looked at Neffie to see if she had seen my unintentional groping. She had. The girl looked at me and then her eyes quickly dropped back to her drawing board. 

Fuck ... one more notch in the weirdo column for me. To hide my reddening face, I slipped behind the canvas. Anxious to distant myself from my brazen behavior, I quickly said, "Neffie? You see the cat at the figure's feet in Manet's painting?"

"Uh huh."

"Manet based his composition on a painting by Titian called Venus of Urbino from a couple of hundred years before." 

I heard Neffie's fingers fly over the keys of her laptop. 

"Got it up," she said. "Wow. It's the exact same pose as Olympia."




Naked Portraits Pt. 12



"See the dog curled up on the bed?" I asked. 

"Yes."

"In the old days, the dog represented fidelity, loyalty. Manet used the cat as the opposite symbol."

"Nothing less faithful than an ally cat," Neffie said.

I grinned at her unintended pun of Aly's name. I heard Aly laugh too. 

Neffie, clearly missing the joke, asked, "What about the black servant woman?"

"Again, Manet was borrowing from an earlier artist named Ingres titled something or other with a slave."

"Odalisque with a Slave," Neffie said apparently having no trouble finding the painting on line. "It's another naked woman, same pose as Olympia but her head is on the other side. Is the slave the woman playing the musical instrument? Or is it the guy in the background in the robes and turban?" She came around to my side of the easel to show me the laptop screen. A nude figure rested on a bed looking all pale and alluring. Beside the naked woman knelt another woman, just as pale but fully dressed playing an instrument that looked like a stretched out mandolin. 

"I guess the guy in the background is the slave," I said. 

"Let me see," Aly said. Neffie held out the laptop for her to see. "I think the slave in this picture is the naked chick if you ask me. The dark turban dude looks more like a sultan or a prince."

"Odalisque means mistress," I said. "The naked chick has to be the mistress." 

"People did keep sex slaves in the old days," Neffie said. "Both male and female."

"I could use a sex slave," Aly said. "I wonder if George Clooney is available?"

"Or all of Big Time Rush?" Neffie said.

"You go girl," Aly said with a laugh. "Who is your choice for sex slave, Gwen?"

"Thor and Captain America ... maybe Iron Man too, just for giggles," I said.

"What about the Hulk?" Aly asked. 

"Shut up and keep still," I said.

A knock came at the door. 

"Dr. Ling I presume," Aly said in a bad British accent. 

I grunted with frustration at the interruption. I put my brush down and found a cloth to wipe my hands. "I'll find something so you can cover up," I offered.

"No need," Aly said, "I'm sure Nelly has seen it all."

I shrugged and opened the door. An attractive Asian woman with a fair amount of gray in her long dark hair smiled at me. She looked familiar but I couldn't quiet place her ... I could only hope that she hadn't seen me naked like Neffie had. 

The woman''s jaw dropped open when she saw Aly posing behind me. 

"Close the door Nelly," Aly said, "or the whole world will know that I'm a natural blond."

"And that you ARE," Dr. Nelly Ling said with genuine surprise. 

Apparently she hadn't seen it all, I thought cracking a smile. I stepped aside to let the woman into my already crowed studio and closed the door.

Aly introduced everybody all around.

"You could have told me you were posing nude," Ling said, after polite handshakes.

Aly shrugged and smiled. It was clear she had meant to shock her friend.

Dr. Ling turned to me. "You look seriously busy. We can do this another time."

"No, you're here and it's time we all took a break anyway," I said. 

Aly stretched, sat up, reached for her shoulder bag and pulled out her laptop. Neffie focused on her laptop too although her eyes kept flickering to Aly sitting naked casually reading her emails. Aly could probably make anything look sexy with that bod of hers; doing a crossword, gutting fish ... or dare I say ... disk sanding a wooden floor. 

"May we talk somewhere less ... um ... distracting?" Ling asked as she too seemed unable to look away from naked Aly.

"Join me downstairs for a very bad cup of coffee?" I asked. 

"Can't be any worse then the vending machines at the psych department," Dr. Ling said as we squeezed our way to the door.

"I think they've gone out of their way to make the coffee spectacularly bad here," Aly warned.

Ling laughed. It was a pleasant sound.

"Don't peek at the painting," I told Aly. "I don't want you to see it until it's near done."

"Wouldn't think of it," Aly said. 

"I'm going to take off after I talk to Gwen," Dr. Ling said turning to Aly. "Nice seeing ... all of you."

Aly laughed at her joke as I closed the door. 

At the vending machine on the ground floor under the stairs, we each bought a cup of coffee. Dr. ling quickly agreed with Aly that somehow, the art department vending machine coffee was truly shittier.

"What can I do for you doctor?" I asked trying to sound casual.

"Call me Nelly. I hate all that doctor stuff." She smiled, looked at me for a few seconds and then said, "Your dream was off the charts." 

I blushed several shades of red. That's why she's here. She thinks I was making shit up. I must be ruining her research somehow. "I was told to describe my dream in detail," I said softly not meeting her eyes. "I wasn't being weird. All the sex happened ... in the dream I mean. I wasn't making things up."

"I'm not talking about the content, Gwen," Ling said sounding a bit surprised at my reaction. "Your levels, your brain activity is what I'm referring to." 

"Oh." After a moment of thought I asked, "Is there something wrong with me? Do you think I'm crazy?" My heart skipped at that sudden disturbing thought.

"That's none of my business for one," Dr. Ling said pleasantly—and clearly joking. She sipped her coffee and made a face. "I've been working at getting a grant to study religious cults that profess at having visions while worshiping."

I frowned. "I don't belong to a cult. I'm as secular as they come." Although I have been praying to heathen idols lately, I thought, but kept quiet on that point.

"But you are having dreams of a vivid nature not unlike cult members in some of my studies. You mentioned in your background form you've been having visions while awake?"

Sure wish I had skipped that part, I thought. 

"I would hardly call them visions," I said starting to feel a little uncomfortable. "They're more like flights of intense imagination. I am an artist you know?"

"With these flights of the imagination, when do they happen most often?" she asked pointblank.

For several seconds I didn't say a thing, wondering if I should lie. I didn't see the point so I said, "During or just after sex." 

"Really? Can you give me some detail?" She gestured for me to sit on a nearby concrete bench with her. We sat.

I looked at her wondering if she was asking me about the dreams or the sex? She looked back passively not hinting one way or another. It was the dreams she was interested in I assumed. "Lifelike," I said. "I can feel, smell and hear things. Like it's real. Like I'm there ... where ever there is."

Dr. Ling sat quietly. The silence seem to stretch on forever. I sipped my awful coffee just to have something to do. Finally she spoke. 

"Will you come back into the dream study, Gwen?"

"Will I still be paid?" I asked sheepishly. 

Dr. Ling laughed. "Of course. I've come prepared to entice you back. She pulled out an envelope from her shoulder bag and handed it to me. "I'll pay you the maximum per session. Six sessions all together all up front."

I opened the envelope and saw a a check written to me for one thousand eight hundred dollars.

"That much money for just sleeping? Awesome!" Apparently, today was my day for people to hand large sums of money. It made me wonder how my horoscope read. After a couple of seconds to ponder my latest windfall, I asked, "Will I have to take drugs or something like that?"

Ling laughed some more. "Only if you want to," she said, clearly joking again. She handed me a card. "Next Monday night at eight. Call if you need to reschedule." She stood up and so did I. "I like the painting, Manet's Olympia?" 

I nodded. 

"Tell Aly I'll get her back somehow." She gave me a pleasant smile, shook my hand and made a bee line to a nearby trashcan to dump her unfinished cup of coffee. 

I watched her walk away. Being a broke ass student, I made myself drink more of the shitty coffee. Then I remembered that I had just got a check for one thousand eight hundred dollars on top of the four thousand from Li Hong. 

"Fuck this shit," I said and dumped my awful cup of vending machine coffee in the same trash can as Dr. Ling. 

Back in my studio I found Neffie and Aly talking animatedly when I entered. Both were drinking sodas. Since Aly was still naked, I assumed that Neffie had gone out to get the drinks. 

"What you guys talking about?" I asked.

"You of course," Aly said as she put aside her soda and resumed her pose "Neffie was telling me how you flashed her and her cousin sometime back. Truth of dare? Really Gwen, you are such a slut." 

"Yeah, like that beats Noah at the seventh hole," I said casually. 

"So? How did it go with Nelly?" Aly asked, quickly changing the subject.

"She says she's going to get you back for flashing your belot at her."

Neffie snorted a laugh.

"I'm sure she will," Aly agreed. "You taking part in her study again?"

Not wanting to talk in front of Neffie, I said, "I'll tell you later."

"Dr. Ling looks likes Sandra Oh," Neffie said.

"The actress from Gray's Anatomy!" Aly barked, "I tell everybody that!"

Maybe that's why she looks so familiar, I thought.

Two hours later, we called it quiets. Fully dressed with her lab coat draped over one shoulder Aly stood looked at the painting for the first time.

"Wow," she said with real awe in her voice. 

I nodded in agreement. 

"What about the cat and black woman?" Aly asked.

"I'll do something, I just don't know what yet," I said. 

"Before I leave, I wanna see Neffie's charcoals," Aly said.

Neffie, with her cute face absolutely filthy with charcoal smudges, shyly showed us her seven finished sixteen by twenty drawings. They were all well done with sensitive attention to detail. 

"I like this one," Aly said of a nice study of her upper body. The likeness was right on. Neffie had added in elements from Manet's figure like the arm bracelet, the flower in the hair and the black ribbon at the neck.

Neffie passed the drawing to Aly. 

"It would please me if you would keep it," Neffie said.

Aly's jaw dropped open as she took the drawing in her hands. "Thank you. I am so framing this!"

Neffie smiled, pleased that Aly liked the drawing. 

"I'm going to see if the guys are still at Rosa's," Aly said, "You coming?"

"No, I'm still in the zone. Think I'll keep working."

"Thanks for the drawing Neffie," Aly said and left. 

I scrutinized the rest of Neffie's drawings. They were all good. The girl had certainly taken to the charcoal. I pondered over a focused study of Aly's hand resting on her stomach just above the pubic area. Neffie had spent sometime working on the details of Aly's vagina, the clitoris was clearly visible. My mind quickly flashed to my brief groping of Aly's pubic mound. 

"Would you like to keep that one?" Neffie asked.

Realizing that I may have been staring at the drawing a bit too long, I shook my head and handed it back to her.

Great, now the chick is sure I'm a lesbian. Bet I never see her again after today. 

"Thanks for your help," I said. "You can go."

"I'll help you break down the setup," she said. "I need to check my email first." She sat down on the old loveseat. I looked at her beautiful Filipino face illuminated by the light of her laptop. 

I handed her a wet wipe. "Your face is a mess." I watched her absently clean her face as she read her emails.

"You need to leave soon?" I asked her.

She shook her head.

For the next two hours, I painted Neffie into Aly's painting just as she was, laptop screen and all. Needless to say, the girl was totally thrilled. 

Chapter 56 Dreaming For a Government Grant

It was eight o'clock in the evening on a Monday night and I sat in a little bedroom in the dream study section of the psych department of Honolulu University in my mismatched panties and bra. My bra was ordinary and black but my panties pushed the envelope of good taste: the front was decorated with black and orange leopard spots and the back half with black and white zebra stripes. Matt called them my zebard panties ... I should have put more thought in my underwear selection.

I looked into Dr. Lings face as she applied sticky sensors to my forehead. Last time I was here, all the prep was done by a grad student. I must rate having the doctor herself prepping me. Guess she was really serious about landing that grant. She got to work putting the sensor over my heart. She was very pretty I thought, and she really does look like Sandra Oh, the part of my brain in charge of pointless things observed. 

That feeling I knew her from somewhere else nagged at me. A sudden rush rippled through me starting as a crawly tingling at the back of my neck. Then a feeling of deja vu descended on me so powerful that I nearly swooned. Since this was hardly the first time this has happened, I stayed calm. I looked at the the door positive that someone would be knocking. A few seconds later, the knock came.

"I'm prepping a subject," Dr. Ling yelled sounding put out.

The pretty grad from last time stuck her head in the door. Ling turned to face her, clearly angry. 

"I got a crazy spike on the monitors," the girl said in her odd accent. "I came to see if there was some kind of electronic device in the room causing interference."

"Is your cell phone off?" Ling asked me.

I nodded. 

"Could be my cell," Ling said sheepishly. She reached into her lab coat pocket and pulled out her phone. "Sorry, the thing's on. Okay, it's off now."

The girl eyed me up for a few seconds and then left. Needless to say, this all felt like it has happened to me before. 

"You can put your pajamas on," Ling said.

I did. My said pajamas was an oversized t-shirt made to look like the Hawaii State flag front and back. 

Dr. Ling picked up a clipboard and read from it. "For the record, how would your describe your dreams?" 

"Vivid. Super real. I can smell and taste things," I answered.

"Do the images and sensory experiences fade quickly after you wake up?"

"No. They stay with me."

"Your recall of them is sharp and clear?"

"Yes."

"What would you say your general mental state is when you are having these vivid dreams?" 

"Horny," I said mostly to be funny.

"It's sexual," Ling said in all seriousness as she wrote something down.

"Yeah," I said embarrassed at being so flippant when she was so obviously serious. This was not the joking friendly, Dr Ling from the other day. Guess chasing government grants will do that to you.

Ling looked at her clipboard again.

"Let's talk about the hallucinations when you are awake." 

"Sure," I said but flinched at her use of the word hallucinations. It made me sound crazy. For the moment, I decided to keep my recent deja vu episode to myself. 

"You say they happen while you're sexually aroused."

"Always," I answered.

"Do you take medication for any of this?"

"Beer sometimes," I said, trying to be funny again.

Dr. ling wrote a note. "Have a good sleep," she said. She gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder, got up and left the room. 

Crazy and a drunk, she probably wrote in her notes. 

I looked around the room. My accommodations had improved from last time. Now I had my own mini fridge and a small private bathroom like they have in hospital rooms. This is gonna be an easy three hundred bucks. Now all I had to do was go to sleep. My fingers brushed over the sensors on my forehead and then felt the one over my left breast under my nightshirt. Having stuff stuck to your skin made sleep seem impossible. 

I flopped on my back and stared at the textured industrial ceiling. The room was lit by a small dim reading lamp on a side table. I swung my legs off the bed and got up to get my book out of my backpack, but first I check out the contents of the fridge: bottled water, mini cans of ginger ale, apple juice boxes. I went to the tiny bathroom and clicked on the light to check that out too: low flow toilet with handicap support bar, metal sink with mirror above it. 

I walked back to the bed, unzipped my backpack, pulled out my book and my travel bag, tossed my book on the bed and headed to the bathroom. My eyes flickered to one of the three cameras set up in the room. A dirty little thrill flushed through me. Maybe I should strip naked right were I stood. Bet that notion created a spike on the monitors, I thought with some amusement. 

Go ahead, prove that you're unstable to Dr. ling and the WHOLE psych department by getting naked for the cameras, my logical half chimed in.

"Wasn't gonna really do it," I mumbled sub vocally. 

You're no fun at all my lizard brain complained.

I continued on to the bathroom to brush my teeth. After brushing, I spent a minute looking at myself in the mirror in my Hawaii State flag t-shirt. Aly found it odd that the British flag dominated one corner of the flag. I thought it odd that she found it odd. She reminded me that we had fought a war to be free of England and putting the British Union Jack in the corner of the state flag seemed treasonous to her.

I got out my hair brush and smoothed my long hair to shiny perfection. A pointless exercise since it would become a rat's nest in no time flat. I stepped out of the bathroom and stopped short. Someone was laying in my bed!

"What the fuck?" I grumbled. Apparently, some idiot from another study had stepped into the wrong room. "Excuse me, you got the wrong room, dude," I said. 

The little reading lamp on the side table seemed oddly brighter all of a sudden and I had to shield my eyes from it. I could just make out that it was a woman in my bed, and weirdly, she wore the exact same Hawaii flag shirt as me. Just as I reached out to shake the lolo awake, she rolled over. 

I barked a small scream and stepped back. The chick in the bed was ME! No surprise that my hair was a ratty mess. 

"When the fuck did I fall asleep?" I exclaimed to the room in general. The Hawaiian flag t-shirt was slightly hiked up exposing the leopard front of my panties. "Should have worn more tasteful underwear," I told sleeping me. 

Even though I was dreaming, I still took the time to pull sleeping me's shirt down a bit then slipped the sheet over her for good measure. I pushed her hair from her face and lightly touched the sensors on her forehead. I touched my own forehead but felt no sensors there. I checked the length of my hair, and wouldn't you know it, it was short and reddish brown. 

"Sheeees baaack," I said as I stepped into the bathroom to check myself out in the mirror. 

My reddish short hair framed a shockingly pale face created by a heavy makeup base. Both my eyes were outlined top and bottom with black eyeliner. Blackish-red lipstick covered my lips. The whole make up job screamed Goth. Up top I wore a clinging, black, short-sleeved spandex bustier thing that pushed at my tits, magically creating more cleavage then I usually deserved. Below, I wore black biker shorts and black calf high suede boots.

"This is even more tacky then my animal panties," I said aloud to my reflection. I had to admit though, it was sexy in a tasteless Fredrick's of Hollywood catalog kind of way. I turned sideways to look at my seemingly enhanced bust line. "You gotta like that."

I stepped back into the bedroom. The stupid bright reading lamp blinded me for a second. Then abruptly, the world went absolutely black. "What the fuck," I said as I held my arms out and inched forward in the direction of the bed. I couldn't see my arms in front of me it was that dark. I stopped short when I heard whispers in the darkness from all around me. Then a sudden booming male voice made me yelp and jump out of my skin.

"LADIES AND GENTLMEN! I GIVE YOU THE KABUKI SISTERS! 

The voice was followed by roaring applause coming from all around me in the darkness. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 12



A dim light fell on me allowing me to see my arms. A few feet away, I saw me standing with arms stretched out. Clearly, I was looking into a large mirror. I stepped toward the mirror. Oddly, my reflection seemed a half step too slow.

I dropped my arms and took a step to the side. My reflection followed suit, but a whole second late. My reflection glared back at me with her goth eyes, clearly displeased with me. 

"No give ME the stink eye!" I said. "You da one late."

A titter of laughter came from the darkness around me. I smiled, pleased that I had made the darkness laugh. Anger flared in the eyes of my reflection. "Sorry," I said. Not wanting to upset her any further, I stood absolutely still.

I saw I had a tattoo on my upper right arm. It was an angel with an elaborate set of wings. Nowadays, whenever I see angels, I think of Aly. The angel's face was clearly Asian, her wings and hair jet black. I twisted my arm to get a better look. Aly would like it I was sure. My reflection gave me a dirty look again. Apparently, she didn't like me looking at the tattoo. I straightened my arm and sent her a psychic apology. Without moving my head, my eyes drifted down my reflection's sleek body and stopped short when I saw two faint one inch long parallel lines on my right thigh.

"Betty?" I asked, totally confused.

Years ago, my former best friend Betty got that scar when she, Misty and I had jumped a barbed wire fence at the Fernandez farm to escape a charging cow. Betty didn't clear the fence and had scratched herself badly. No ... wait, if that's my reflection then I must be Betty I thought logically. 

"Gwen," my reflection whispered barely moving her lips.

Okay ... I'm not Betty ... but how come I'm reflecting ... Betty? I thought, foolishly trying to find the logic in my implausible dream. Stupid yeah?

"Take off your top you idiot," my Betty reflection said and pulled her her bustier thing over her head. Totally confused, I followed suit. Not wearing a bra, I stood facing my reflection topless. Betty's breasts were pretty, they were always pretty. For years I always thought Betty and I could be mirror images if only I would workout more. 

My eyes welled with tears. "I missed you," I told her. 

She frowned, my tears seem to alarm her. 

"You ready for the kiss?" she whispered.

Her request shocked me. She closed her goth eyes and leaned in. Not knowing what else to do, I followed suit. The kiss was perfect, reminiscent of the one we shared in San Francisco all those years ago. Our breasts squeezed together and that felt totally amazing too. But as delirious as the kiss was, it also felt very wrong. Plus, anger at her for shunning me all these months swelled in my brain. It was time I had it out with her, never mind that we were topless and kissing in some weird dark void surrounded by whispering shadows. 

My eyes fluttered open to bright daylight. I stood in the shade of a patch of banana trees looking into the exotic, beautiful face of Alyson Reese barely a foot away. Her long blond hair flickered with a small gust of wind. I frowned trying to recall if we had kissed or not. I was pretty sure we had. This could mess up our friendship, I thought aimlessly, even as I leaned in to get another kiss. 

"Stop! Don't move a muscle," Aly cautioned.

I stopped, confused, not to mention embarrassed by my impulsive behavior. Overcome with a compulsive need to apologized, I said, ''I'm sorry for feeling you up at the portrait sitting." Neither of us had spoken about the incident from a couple of weeks ago. 

Aly's blue-green eyes looked right at me, yet, at the same time, she seemed not to see me at all. Was I not here? Aly puckered. I giggled for it made her look a lot like Marilyn Monroe down to the crinkly smiley eyes. I puckered too anticipating a friendly peck. She blew out a puff of air and crazily, something crawled onto her face, it was a black and yellow spider near the size of my hand. If this were anything but a dream, I would have screamed and scurried back, but all I could think of was how much it looked like Neffie's drawing on my bulletin board. My eyes made an adjustment and I saw that the spider was in it's web and not on her face. Aly had kept me from blundering into it.

"Is it poisonous?" the girl next to me at the bus stop bench asked. 

"Is what poisonous?"I asked the girl.

She didn't answer so I looked around to see where Aly and the spider had gotten to. All I saw were darken streets lit by orange halogen lampposts. I knew this stop for it wasn't far from Ala Moana Beach Park. I looked at the girl on the bench and saw she was dressed in my bedclothes from Dr. Lings dream study. And stranger still, Dr. Ling stood a few paces away from the bench looking at me and the girl. The girl was me of course. I pushed her hair away from her sleepy face and touched the sensors on her forehead.

"Your top is cute," sleepy me said. I looked down to see that I had on a tight leather vest thing with no sleeves. Below I wore faded jeans and shiny leather boots that looked expensive. "You look like one of those goth chicks from photography," sleepy mumbled. 

The headlights of a bus washed over us as it pulled up to the stop. The door hissed open. I stood and helped long-hair to her feet. I pulled a day pass from my faded jeans that I knew was there and squeezed it into her hand. On her own, in her Hawaii flag t-shirt pajamas, she managed to ascend the stairs of the bus, I noticed she was barefoot.

"Be nice to her," I said to a distressed looking Dr. Ling standing nearby. She nodded jerkily and followed sleepy. They sat together in the middle of the bus and sleepy me rested her head on the doctor's shoulder. The door closed and just as the bus was about to pull away, a woman stepped up and slapped at the door. The bus stopped, the door hissed open and the woman stepped on. I walked the length of the bus tracking the woman as she moved down the aisle and sat one seat behind sleepy me and Dr. Ling. As the bus pulled away, the woman turned and looked right at me. It was Li Hong! Her hair was long and a total mess and it looked like someone had scratched her right cheek. I can't say why, but it freaked me out and I let out a scream.

"She cannot harm them," my forest goddess said. She was at the bus stop too. Oddly, she was no longer made of wood and seemed cast from bronze.

Her new look didn't surprise me, it seemed fitting. I nodded and tried to calm myself. 

"Do you understand your task?" Wahinelani asked. Her eyes gave off a golden glow. 

"I didn't know I had a task?" I informed her.

"You are phasing and you need to center yourself or foolishness will distract you," the bronze goddess said. 

Dark brown bronze suited her Hawaiian features and her figure was kicking. She would give Aly a serious run for her money with that bod, I thought. 

A spider skittered from her hairline and stopped in the middle of her forehead. With a rueful smile, she nudged the spider with a finger. The thing zipped down the side of her head, halted for a second the way spiders do, and then continued down her neck. It scurried over her right shoulder and finally settled between her metal cast breasts were it held still like it were a piece of jewelry. Aside from an occasional leg twitch, the thing was quite pretty.

"You have lost focus again," Wahinelani said sounding weirdly like Professor Kang. 

Then just like that, we were in my campus art studio. I saw me on my knees, naked performing fellatio on Matt sprawled out in the loveseat. My long dark hair cascaded over my shoulders and down my back ... I missed my long hair. Matt wore a t-shirt and shorts, with the shorts down around his ankles of course. I watched my head bob up and down for a few seconds. 

"Is that what I look like giving head?" I asked with a frown. 

Behind the intimate act of fellatio was a painting of a red hand splayed out surrounded by a black circle. 

"I thought I had cut that up?" I said absently.

Matt looked up. He seemed to have heard me. He took in a harsh breathe, he was close to coming. I stepped up to them, stopped and looked behind me. Did I come from the mirror? I saw myself in all my goth glory, the bustier thing was back and I couldn't help turning sideways to look at my tits and admire the tattoo. Long hair spoke so I turned to listen. 

"I'm in the mood to do something dirty. Let's finish this in the hall."

Matt looked alarmed at the suggestion. "You off your nut?" he said. "Someone could come along any second." 

With a crooked bad girl smile, she stood up, gripped him by his convenient handle and led him to the door. Matt hiked up his shorts and held them in place with one hand up front. Both Long hair and I giggled at how freaked out he looked. I stepped aside to give them room to slip out the door. For some reason, I was positive she was thinking about Shelly's New dance. 

The hall was empty, but like Matt had said, that could change. In the middle of the hallway, Long-hair dropped to her knees bold and naked before him. She gripped his big erection with both hands, but just as she leaned in to take him into her mouth, Matt ejaculated. Long-hair squealed as a burst of white splashed her right cheek and gobbed into her hair near her neck. She grabbed the spewing thing and pointed it at her bare chest as lines of white stuff erupted all over her perky B cups.

Then I saw someone standing at the other end of the hall. Matt didn't see because his back was turned. It was clear that longhair saw the person but kept quiet about it. Was it someone who had just come along or did she arrange this like she had at the main gallery months ago? 

"Come inside and close the door, Gwen, "Wahinelani said from inside the studio. I wanted to see who was standing at the other end of the hall, but as asked, I stepped back into the studio and closed the door.

"Is this my task? To watch me do dirty things to Matt?" I asked a bit annoyed. 

As if this were a Bergman film, Wahinelani shook her head slowly raised her arm, ominously pointing a finger at the mirror on the back of my studio door. The mirror didn't reflect the room anymore, and instead, gave off a dull purple glow. 

"The dusty mauve place," the other me said. I thought her voice was coming from the mirror, then I realized she was probably still kneeling naked in the hall on the other side of the door. The glow scared the shit out of me for some reason and I was glad the she and Matt were safe in the hall. I turned away from the mirror to ask a question but found myself face to face with redheaded Venus from Betty's painting and short-hair me standing next to her. Venus was stark naked, her galaxy of freckles pleasing to the eye. Short hair was totally decked out in goth splendor in shiny bust enhancing spandex vest, black biker shorts and the black calf high suede boots. Her figure was totally awesome. I looked for the scar on her thigh to see if it were me or my Betty. I couldn't tell for I was suddenly very sleepy and it was hard to keep my eyes open. 

I pushed my hair out of my face and was stupidly pleased to see that it was long again. Also, I was back in my Hawaii state flag pajamas, the sensors were there too. Short-hair took Venus by the hand and they stepped toward me. Through my heavy sleepy eyes I managed to find the scar proving that it was Betty. They walked passed me. It was clear that they planned on walking into the mirror.

Alarmed, I said, "You don't want to go in there Betty!"

"Understand your task," Venus told me.

"What fucking task!" I barked at her. 

My outburst seem to sadden her.

"Sorry," I said feeling bad for yelling.

She reached out and tenderly touched my face. Her touch soothed my anger. She smile warmly. I smiled back and then I started to cry.

"Don't go in there," I begged through my tears.

She gave me a puzzled look. "I'm not going to let her go in there alone," she said gently as if I were being silly. She pointed back toward the room. Mat and I sat naked, snuggling on the ratty loveseat. Mat seemed asleep but the other me was clearly wide awake watching me talk to Venus. Venus brushed her hand through my hair and seemed fascinated by the length.

"I'm easily distracted too," Venus said with an amused smile. She leaned in close and I was sure she was gonna kiss me. I closed my eyes happy to let it happen. Her warm mouth met mine. The kiss was awesome ... just the way a goddess should kiss, I thought. I opened my eyes and found myself looking into Li Hong's beautiful pale face. 

"Li ... goddess of the sea," I whispered. 

"Watch out for her," Venus said ominously.

I wondered which of us she was talking too and was it a warning or a request to be vigilant? Venus stood inside the mirror holding hands with Betty.

"I'll find you!" I shouted after them pushing away from Li and approached the mirror. A huge shadow obscured my view of them. I stepped back and saw that it was a spider the size of large dog clinging to the other side of the mirror blocking the opening. 

In a frightening wheezy voice, the spider said, "You are the night."

I screamed and sat up in the dream study room.

Breathing heard, my eyes flickered to all the corners of the room expecting to see the giant spider clinging to the walls or ceiling. Needing to pee like crazy, I swung my legs off the bed but pulled them back up quickly. After tentatively peeping under the bed to assure myself there was no spider under there, I got up and quick stepped to the bathroom, turned on the light and did my business. As I washed my hands, I looked at my sweaty face in the mirror to take stock: sensors on my forehead, hair long, Hawaii state flag t-shirt. I lifted the t-shirt to assess my panties: leopard and zebra ... no biker shorts. lowered my shirt. 

"If a spider jumps out at me like in one of those stupid Nightmare on Elm Street movies, I'm gonna be royally pissed," I said aloud. 

Nothing like that happened ... thank goodness. 

Confidant that I was fully awake, I went back to my bedside and related my stupid pointless dream into the little recorder thing. At least there wasn't too much embarrassing sex this time. 

Chapter 57 Goddess of the Sea

"You're going to have her sorting your laundry next," Hawk said from Aly's kitchen sitting at a bar stool working on something on his laptop. 

"She's already doing that," Matt said at one end of Aly's sofa, his face hidden from view by the Honolulu Advertiser. Aly occupied the other end of the sofa with her feet resting in Matt's lap.

"She is not!" I said. "Neffie was just returning a work shirt I loaned her." I sat cross legged in the comfy lounge chair near the front door with my big Van Gogh book book in my lap. After seeing my portrait of Matt in the Van Gogh style, Meka had suggested I do a nude using Van Gogh's crazy swirls. I liked the idea. 

"The shirt was folded and wrapped in plastic," Matt said from behind his newspaper.

"It's because one of her sisters owns a dry cleaning business you dipshit," Aly said, coming to my defense. 

I bent over and picked up a rubber slipper and threw it at Matt's newspaper but my angle was bad and it rattled a side table full of Aly's collection of angels.

"Hey!" Aly snapped at me. "Don't you hit my angels!" 

I gave Aly an apologetic look then said to Matt, "It's not my fault the crazy little chick has declared herself my personal assistant and all around gofer." 

"Your own personal house maid? How colonial of you," Hawk pipped in without looking up from his laptop screen. 

"You want a slipper to the face too surfer boy?" I threatened. 

"You throw like an artist," Hawk mocked.

I picked up the second slipper and proved Hawk's point as the thing went sailing way off the mark into the kitchen. 

"Stop that!" Aly barked.

"Did you always get picked last in playground sports?" Matt asked.

"Stop being mean," Aly said to Matt and kicked a foot up to crinkle his newspaper. "Neffie's super sweet."

"You're defending her because Neffie's sister gives you the family discount at her dry cleaner," Matt said.

"Be that as it may," Aly said. "Neffie's done something the rest of us seemed unable to do. She's got Gwen organized." 

"Enough about Neffie," I said with a roll of my eyes. 

Nefertiti Margarita Ulamat has become everyone's favorite subject lately. But I have to admit that Aly was right. Neffie has amazing organization skills and with her help, my life in general has been moving along smoothly. Before Neffie, I would come up with these grandiose ideas for paintings, but was too busy (or more accurately, too lazy) to go to the library to follow up. Neffie's little laptop put all of the art world at my literal finger tips. I gotta get me one of those, I thought. Maybe I will after Li Hong's final payment. Anyway, Neffie is an excellent proof reader and has improved my class papers tenfold. And the girl picks up skills like seashells on the beach. A week ago, she watched me stretch raw canvas on wooden stretcher bars and prime it with gesso. The girl now stretches and primes canvas better then I ever have. I do my best to pay her back by telling her everything I know about painting. Using my clout as a top graduate student, I get her insider tours of all the art facilities. 

"I have to go and meet Li Hong for her portrait," I said, closing my Van Gogh book.

"Call little Neffie, she'll do the painting for you," Matt said.

I reach for another slipper.

Aly leaned in and yanked it from my hand. "Don't you dare," she warned. "I'll do it for you." She fired the slipper at Matt on the other side of the sofa. The slipper smacked the newspaper out of his hands crumpling it against his face.

"Hey no make! I ain't George Bush!" 

I got up, grabbed my bag and the keys to Hawk's Bronco.

"Be back here tonight to watch the game at the big house," Aly said. "My landlords are out of town and we got the pool to ourselves the whole weekend."

"Okay," I said and left.

**********

Earlier in the week, I had wrangled Neffie to assist with Li's painting. I could have easily done the whole thing myself but the thought of being alone with Li for such a long stretch of time freaked me out. Her brief appearances in my freaky dream from the other day didn't help at all. The warning from Venus still rung in my head ... watch out for her. 

Hawk and Matt teased me, calling me homophobic. I argued that Li was very intense and a little aggressive. Gallantly, both Hawk and Matt volunteered to be there to back me up. I knew they just wanted to see Li naked so I settled for just Neffie's presents. Besides, I didn't want to scare Li off, the chick still owed me two thousand dollars.

It was Saturday and I had procured the empty figure-painting studio for the session. After my struggle with Aly's portrait in my tiny studio, I decided I needing more room. 

And it would be harder to corner you there, my logical side added.

Chicken shit, lizard brain chimed in.

"How long do we have the space?" Neffie asked, ending my annoying internal argument. 

"We have to be out by six, an open figure drawing class comes in at seven. My model will be here at eleven. That gives me plenty of time to do the hard stuff. Background and details I can deal with later."

"Aly's painting was amazing," Neffie said as she locked in a thirty by forty inch gallery wrapped canvas on my easel. "It was so cool you painted me in like that." Neffie had stretched and primed the canvas herself yesterday. I brushed the canvas with my fingers. It was sanded smooth ... just the way I liked it.

"Surface okay boss?" she asked.

She had taken to calling me boss lately. "Don't call me boss," I said mildly irritated. All I needed was for Matt or Hawk hear her calling me that. I'd never hear the end of it. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 12



We went to my studio. We decided to have an early lunch of fast food burgers. As I dictated my order to Neffie, a soft knock came at the door. I looked at the clock on my desk; it was ten twelve in the morning, too early for Li. But low and behold, there she stood outside my door holding two crinkling plastic grocery bags. 

"Too early for bentos from Shirokiya?" the beautiful Olympian asked with a smile.

"Ohmygod! You're Li Hong!" Neffie shouted.

"And you must be Nefertiti," Li said with a smile just for her. 

Neffie gaped in silence, shocked that the famous Li Hong knew her name. I never told Neffie who was sitting for the portrait.

I took the grocery bags from Li, she stepped into the room and shook Neffie's hand warmly. Li wore a loose cream shirt and jeans. Her hair recently cut, the bob from our last meeting gone, replaced by a floppy on top, short on the sides boyish do, the same cut she had at Meka's photo shoot. 

I put the grocery bags on my desk and unpacked three bento box lunches, a bottle of chilled white wine, a bottle of Billano's Merlot. A six-pack of Kirin beer, a liter bottle of cola, a stack of clear plastic cups and a plastic container full of ice. 

"I didn't know what everyone drank so I covered all the bases," Li said. "Hope you're okay drinking before noon." 

Finally finding her voice, Neffie said shyly, "I watched you in the summer Olympics. You probably hear this a lot ... but you were awesome."

Li smiled as she twisted the top off a Kirin. "I did my best," she said and knocked back a big swallow of beer. 

"A gold in everyone of your events? Yeah, I would say you did," Neffie said.

"The last one was controversial," Li said as she picked up a bento box of teriyaki chicken and rice. "Clearly, the Australian girl had a better dive." She sat down on the loveseat to eat. 

Neffie looked like she about to disagreed. Sure that Li has heard all she cared on her Olympic performance, I quickly jumped in. 

"Nef, show Li my idea for the painting."

Neffie took the hint and opened her ever helpful laptop. As the laptop went through its opening phases, Neffie selected one of the bentos. it was teriyaki beef, my favorite from Shirokiya so I snatched it away from her. 

"Hey!" Neffie complained.

"I get the beef. I'm the boss remember?"

"But you just told not to call you that?" Neffie said perplexed.

"Doesn't mean I'm not the boss," I said opening my appropriated bento.

Neffie made a disgruntled sound and mumbled a few swear words in Tagalog. I gave her the stink eye for I knew all the choice swear words form grade school. Neffie opened the remaining bento box to see what she got stuck with. 

"Smoked eel, salmon roe and jumbo shrimp sushi," she said with a smile.

"Change my mind! I want that one!" I kidded. Neffie held her bento high and away from me. I laughed and asked, "What want to drink kid?"

"White wine please," Neffie said. 

Although I was sure she wasn't twenty one yet, I poured her a glass anyway, and one for me too. Wine before noon ... how wonderfully decadent. 

Neffie sat at her laptop at my desk and brought up the painting I told her to research. Around a bite of teriyaki beef I said, "Renoir's Sleeping girl or more famously known as Girl With Cat.

Li's forehead furrowed. "I don't like cats," she said.

"It's not the cat," I said. "It's the pose and the Renoir style I'm using."

"Why this one?" Li asked as she bit a morsel of teriyaki chicken then followed it up with a chopstick bite of rice.

"It was controversial in it's time. Loved and scorned with equal vigor. I like the way Renoir painted the flesh and cloth and how solid the chair looks."

"The stripped socks and goofy hat?" Li asked obviously not liking those elements.

"Leaving that stuff out and putting you in a smaller skirt and no top at all."

"Sound's like a plan," Li said.

After our meal, we headed to the figure painting studio with the remaining wine, beers and soda. Neffie had found the perfect chair for the sitting; it looked old fashion and vaguely Chinese. Neffie handed Li a fluffy white robe and a light cream silk slip, both items on plastic hangers and covered with dry cleaner bags, courtesy of Cleopatra's dry cleaning service downtown. 

"We set up a screen for you to change behind," Neffie said.

Li started disrobing where she stood.

"Um ... okay," Neffie said. Her cute brown face blushed bright red at the cheeks as she took charge of Li's garments one at a time starting with the sandals, then the blouse, the jeans and bra. 

"You can leave on the panties," I said.

"Okay," Li said.

Li stood before us in just red silk panties, her skin pale and milky, almost luminescent. My eyes naturally fell to the swell of her panty covered pubic area between her athletic thighs.

"I did like you asked and avoided the sun." She spun so I could see that her skin was seamless with no hint of tan lines whatsoever. Facing front again, she looked right at me with a small smile. The smile (and her perky tits) were aimed right at me. 

"Um, nice," I said. "Put on the skirt and let's set the pose."

This time, Neffie came prepared with plastic hangers. 

After a few minutes of fussing, the Renoir pose just wasn't working for me. 

"Maybe it's this?" Li said, pinching the frilly skirt with her fingers.

"Her bare legs would look better against the maroon fabric of the chair," Neffie offered 

Li didn't wait for my response and simply stood and shucked the skirt. She didn't stop there and slipped off her panties too. Neffie took charge of the slip and panties, she dropped the slip on a drawing bench and reverently folded the panties and then draping them on the hanger with the jeans. 

Li looked at me innocently but I could tell that she loved pointing that pussy at me.

"Can I suggest a different pose that might work?" Neffie asked tentatively. 

"Go ahead. My opening idea ain't working," I said doing my best to avoid Li's eyes, which left me looking at her naked body. She does have pretty breasts, I thought, eying her perky B-cups ... maybe they were C's ... and that ass of hers was a work of art. Athletes always had wonderful asses ... and it was impossible not stare at the jet black patch of hear between her legs. 

Good God, girl, my logical brain said, You're looking at her like a frat boy on spring break! 

I quickly refocused my eyes on Neffie. 

Neffie adjusted Li's chair so that it faced the easel full front. She then put a big red cushion on the floor, at the foot of the chair. She waved Li over and sat her down with her butt pushed to one side of the seat angling her body in an interesting way. Neffie stretched Li's legs out, feet crossed resting on the red pillow then adjusted Li's elbows on the arms of the chair. The pose was swaggering and aggressive. In other words, perfect for Li. 

"I like it," I said. "Looks familiar, though. Who you ripping off?"

"Not ripping off, appropriating," Neffie said. 

Her accent and seriousness made her so adorable that I had to laugh. "When did you join the post modern movement?" I asked.

Ignoring my ribbing, Neffie went to her laptop and showed me what was on the screen. Paul Gauguin's Anna the Javanese. "I know you hate the guy," she said, "but this pose is right on for Ms. Hong."

"Hate who?" Li asked.

"Paul Gauguin," Neffie said. "Gwen says he's a sexist pig with a colonialist world view." Neffie turned laptop so that Li could see.

"I like the pose," Li said. "You gonna paint in the orange monkey? I like that more than the cat."

"No monkey," I said, "I'll use the pose but I'm sticking to Renoir. His style is more suited for your skin."

"You do have very beautiful," Neffie said, as she fussed with the pillow under Li's feet.

"And so do you, Nefertiti," Li said.

Neffie, blushed and let out a honky geeky laugh. 

I got to work. Neffie provided refreshments. Li stuck to the beers, Neffie kept at the wine. After two glasses of wine myself, I switched to cola to keep my head clear. 

With the courage of the alcohol in her blood, Neffie was less shy and talked to Li freely asking her questions about her Olympic adventures. I wished she wouldn't, but Li didn't seem to mind so I let it go.

"The parties were wild," Li confessed, "the former eastern block girls and the the Australian athletes the wildest. I had a thing going with one of the Australian swimmers. It ended, but was fun while it lasted."

"I heard rumors that you are lesbian," Neffie said.

"NEFFIE!" I shouted shocked at her brazenness.

"It's okay," Li said with a cheery laugh. "It refreshing to meet someone with honest directness that's NOT a paparazzi." She gave Neffie a leveled look and said, "I like girls." Li's eyes sought mine and I quickly looked back at the canvas. The brief exchange wasn't lost on Neffie.

"Where exactly did you hear the rumor?" Li asked Neffie.

"From Deidre Kaahumanu," Li said.

"How do you know Deidre?" I asked, surprised.

"She was the grad that gave me a tour of the photography department."

"And she just blurted out Li's sexual preference just like that?" I asked, annoyed at Deidre's indiscretion.

"There was a photo of Ms. Hong on Deidre's studio wall," Neffie said. "The conversation sort of went in that direction. She was kind of shy about it."

I detected a tiny smile at the edges of Li's mouth. It made me wonder if the two had hooked up?I liked Deidre and I hoped that Li wasn't messing with the poor girls heart. 

During a break, Li went outside in her robe to make a phone call. In her absents, Neffie said to me quietly, "I think she likes you."

"Neffie!" I barked.

"Well, she does," she persisted.

"There is nothing I can do about that. I'm not into girls so she's shit out of luck." 

Neffie frowned and gave me a puzzled look, for apparently, she thought differently. Clearly, my my unintentional groping of Aly was still fresh in her head. 

Li returned and resumed her pose. A half hour later, Neffie's cell rang and she went outside to take the call. A minute later, Neffie popped back in the room and said, "My sister Cleo has a flat on the H-1. She's freaking out. I have to go rescue her."

What about your dad?" I asked quickly. I didn't want to be left alone with Li.

"My dad can go on all day about Egyptian history but wouldn't have a clue what to do with a tire jack. I gotta go help."

"You okay to drive after the wine?" I asked immediately. YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME ALONE WITH THIS WOMAN! I wanted to scream.

"I already called someone else to drive me," Neffie said as she packed up her laptop.

"If you need muscle I can call my boyfriend Hawk?" I said. Neffie had met Hawk and knew he was my boyfriend. I had thrown in the word boyfriend as a warning shot over Li's lesbian bow. 

"Paul Gleason is gonna drive me," Neffie said.

"You know Paul?" I asked surprised. Neffie seems to be making quick friends here at the art department. 

"Yeah, he gave me a tour of the sculpture yard a couple of weeks ago. Remember? He's nice and a real handy guy." 

"You dating him?" I asked astonished.

"Noway!" Neffie said giving me a shocked look, "He's not THAT nice."

Neffie turned to Li. "Nice to have met you Ms. Hong."

"Call me Li and nice to have met you too, Nefertiti." 

Neffie gave her geeky laugh again and left me alone with Li.

"Neffie is very nice," Li said. "I like her."

"Yeah, she's great," I said.

"I don't have a chance with you do I?" Li said.

Her directness unnerved me and all I could do was shake my head, but my lizard brain was thinking ... why not?

Because she scares me, I said.

Only because of the stupid dream, lizard brain said.

As if responding to my thoughts, Li said, "It's more then the girl-girl thing isn't it. There's something about me that freaks you out."

Again, all I could do was nod.

"You're not the only one," Li said softly.

I was about to apologize, or something stupid like that, but she kept on talking.

"It's been like that my whole life," she said.

I wanted to tell her that she was wrong ... that I wasn't afraid of her ... but I kept quiet.

"Something happened to me that night at the pool at Meka's photo shoot," Li said. 

I looked into her sad, beautiful face. I didn't know what to say. 

She continued speaking in a low soft voice. 

"I thought I had found something that night ... I thought that something was you."

I dropped my eyes again.

"But I'm slowly realizing that it's not is it?"

I shook my head.

"But you triggered something that's for sure." 

I had no idea what to say so I picked up a brush and worked on the painting. About an hour later, I said, "We have to stop. A class is starting soon."

Li stood up and stretched. Not bothering to put on her robe, she walked over to look at the painting for the first time. 

"Oh my god, you're a master," she said. 

I nodded in agreement for the painting, although not done, truly was amazing. 

"The rest is just background detail, your part is done," I told her awkwardly. Her nudity ... and closeness drew my eyes. She turned to face me. 

Every corner of my psyche screamed out, KISS ME! PLEASE JUST KISS ME!

"I won't stop you," I whispered.

"From what?" Li whispered back. But I could tell she knew exactly what was going through my head.

The door of the studio opened and Neffie stepped in. "Paul was a great help," she said as she dropped her bag on a chair. "So what did I ..." She trailed off into silence seeing how close Li and I were standing ... and that Li was naked.

"We're done," Li said. "Thank you both." She stepped away from me and Neffie and I watched her dress in silence. As she slung her bag on her shoulder, Li said to me, "Call me when it's done?"

I nodded. 

She smiled, kissed my cheek and left.

I could tell Neffie wanted to ask a million question. But the girl was no fool for she sensed I was in no mood to answer them. We broke down the set up and parted down stairs at the art auditorium.

With my mind racing as it was, I barely realize that someone was calling my name. I turned to see, of all people, Kimberly Kato, Betty's socialite friend dressed for a night out in a tight expensive dark green dress. My hackles stood up and I was ready to break skin. I've always hated the chick. And what the fuck was she doing dressed like that on campus on a Saturday afternoon? 

Like she had read my mind, she said, "The business school grads have a party at the rec. I was parking my Porsche when saw you."

She had to let me know she drives a Porsche. I didn't say anything and just stared at her. 

"Um ... You not with Hawk anymore huh?" she asked casually like we were friends or something. 

She must have seen Hawk with Aly a few times or perhaps me with Matt.

"None of your business ... or Betty's," I said curtly. 

"I haven't heard from Betty in months," Kimberly said with a furrowed brow. "She's dropped out of school you know." 

I didn't know, but I did my best not to show it. Our eyes locked and she seemed determined not to look away first.

"I saw her last night at a Waikiki club," she said trying to sound haughty. "She was dressed crazy and all goth like. I called out to her but she slipped away before I got close. I was sure she heard me." 

I didn't respond and just kept staring. Kimberly finally dropped her eyes and simply walked away with her expensive heels echoing in the hall. I wanted desperately to run after her and shake her down for more info, but I stayed silent and continued on to the anthropology building where I had parked Hawk's Bronco. Something was seriously up with Betty, for her parents would never allow her to drop out of school. A fresh surge of anger rippled through me. I was no longer part of her life and did my best not to care. Although, the mean part of me did enjoyed seeing Kimberly Kato in exiled too.

One odd thing Kimberly had said resonated in my head.

... She was dressed crazy and all goth like.

Just like in my dream at the psych department. How totally fucking weird.



Naked Portraits Pt. 13



Notes from the author:

Hello Literotica reader. I was able to track down the real people my characters, Nefertiti Ulamat and Dr. Nelly Ling were based on. And again I will remind all that my character names are totally made up. If there are real people out there with the same names it's just a coinsurance. Of course the existence of the real Nefertiti and Dr. Ling doesn't mean that the information I'm basing my story on is true, but it does make it a bit more intriguing. My friend on Maui has been reading the stories from the start and has taken it upon himself to track down some of the art pieces I've described. He thinks he's found the painting of Aly done in the style of Edward Manet. It's in the home of a doctor that lives in Haiku, Maui. He hasn't seen the painting himself, he saw it in a photograph from a party held at the doctor's house. He plans on making a visit to the doctor's home as soon as he can. 

*****

Chapter 58 Came a Spider

My odd painting session with Li Hong swirling in my head as I parked Hawk's Bronco on the street at Aly's house. It was close to six and I was hungry. Aly said that her landlords were out of town and that we would have the big house. and more importantly, the POOL all to ourselves. I opened the front door of the big house and stepped into an elegant foyer. The living room was understated nineteen sixties Japanese modern with a cozy lived in feel. There were lots of books everywhere and an eclectic collection of art on the walls and shelves. 

The delicious smell of grilled teriyaki chicken greeted me. Just under the prevailing smell of teriyaki was the delicate aroma of boiled white rice with a touch of sesame seed oil. The smells made me think of home. A rhythmic sound drew me to the professional stainless steel kitchen where I found Hawk chopping a monstrous Maui-Kula onion into thin slices. Scattered on the counter around him were bowls of goodies: black olives, tiny dill pickles, Spanish olives, sweet pickled ginger, hoi-sing sauce, carrot sticks, celery, sliced boiled eggs, lumpia, wasabi mustard and two dipping bowls of soy sauce. I sampled the soy sauces with a finger; one was teriyaki the other plain. I snatched up several pimento stuffed Spanish olives and popped them in my mouth one at a time.

"Everything looks good, Aly's out done herself," I said.

Hawk laughed with a mocking edge. "Aly had nothing to do with this," he said. " The chick's a disaster in the kitchen. Matt's the one that cooked this all up. The dude's king of the grill."

After sampling more of the pupus, I went out to the living room to the big sliding doors that opened onto the screened in pool deck. Matt stood at an ancient and well seasoned hibachi grill poking at sizzling chicken breasts. He wore brightly colored surfer jams and a light yellow t-shirt decorated with light green palm trees. With his long hair and beard he looked more like a hippy then the grunge out Midwesterner I first met almost a year ago. I slid the patio door open, walked up to my hippy chief and planted a hot long kiss on his mouth. He tasted of sweet teriyaki and beer. 

"Mmm, you taste good haole boy. Where's Aly?"

"She's in the hothouse watering some plants. Hawk and I barred her from the kitchen. The girl can't stir, peel or chop to save her life."

From a plate heaped with cooked chicken, I pinched off a bit of meat. Matt slapped the back of my hand, but he was too late as I popped the morsel into my mouth. "Oh, that's ono," I said with the lusty enthusiasm. 

I lit off in search of Aly. I crossed to the door of screen covered pool deck. I walked up the sloping backyard to the the hothouse following a path of decorative stone squares. I pulled the creaky spring-controlled door of the hothouse open and was immediately impressed at the size of the structure. The walls and ceiling were made of a double layer of black plastic screen stretched over PVC piping. Row upon row of plants, mostly orchids from what I could tell, filled the place, but I didn't see Aly anywhere inside. Spying a door to at the far end of the structure I headed for it. 

The smell of damp rich dirt with an undercurrent of manure made me thing of the county fairs I so loved as a kid. The ones on Maui were the best I thought. Halfway across, the water misting system kicked in overhead showering the plants and me with atomized water. I yelp, picked up the pace and reached the rear door at a near run. By the time I got out, I was soaked to the skin. A little beyond the door, I saw Aly standing among a patch of banana trees weirdly staring into space. She wore cutoffs dirty with muddy hand prints and a dark blue bikini top, there was a perfectly shaped mud red hand print on her right thigh. I headed in her direction. 

"STOP!" Aly called out. "Not another step!"

Baffled, I froze. Seconds later her warning became apparent for I found myself staring at the underside of a spider mere inches from my face. One more step and I would have blundered into its web spun between two banana trees. The spider was the size of an open hand; my skin crawled with ingrained arachnophobia. 

"Is it poisonous?" I asked in a squeaky voice. Weirdly, mouthing those words created a strange mental vortex and the world seemed to swirl around me. 

This was in my dream from the dream study! Fucking deja vu all over again!

"All spiders are poisonous," Aly said casually. She walked up and stood on the other side of the near invisible web with her face a few inches away from the creepy thing. On top of the feeling of deja vu, my painter's instinct kicked in and I blurred my eyes causing Aly's beautiful Asian face and the spider to become one. As I refocused my eyes, Aly puckered. She looked so much like Marilyn Monroe that it made me wonder if Marilyn had a little Korean in her. Then for a brief horrifying second I thought she was going to kiss the spider. She didn't though, and simply blew a small puff of air. Her breath smelled of wine and something sweet. A flash of adrenaline hissing through me like water on a hot grill. The spider reacted too and scurried at frightening speed to the edge of its web, leaped around a banana leaf and out of sight leaving Aly and I staring at each other on opposite sides of the web. A frown wrinkled her brow.

I dropped my gaze to her dark blue bikini top. 

Victoria's Secret models have nothing on her I thought randomly. 

"Don't wanna wreck it's house," Aly said as she dodged around a banana palm and came around to my side of the web. She gave me an odd look and said, "You're totally wet and I can see your nipples." 

I looked down to see that she was right. My dark nipples were so clearly visible beneath the soaked white shirt and white bra that I may as well had been topless. A wave of shyness enveloped me, which was kind of stupid considering that this woman has seen me naked in ways too intimate for casual conversation. It took all my willpower not to cross my arms over my chest to cover up. To add to the awkward moment, my eyes kept involuntarily flickering down to her full breasts. 

After a few seconds of embarrassing silence, Aly said, "You have plenty of stuff in my guest room. Go change." 

I went to Aly's cottage and changed into fresh dry jeans, sports bra and a t-shirt. As I dressed, I thought, of my disjointed dream from Dr. Ling's dream study. I dreamed about Aly and that web! 

I had done some reading on dreams. A common thing for people to do was impose reality onto the memory of their dreams. Was I doing that right now? But it was so freaky how much of the dream had come true. The big difference was that in the dream Aly and me had kissed. ... no wait ... I had kissed Betty not Aly. In the dream I had ASSUMED that Aly and I had kissed. Clearly, I haven't kissed anyone today except for Matt.

"You're imposing, girl," I said aloud as I headed to Aly's living room . 

The deje vu feeling returned suddenly making my head spin. I sat heavily on the living room sofa. Shaken, I got up, found a pen and some paper and wrote down the experience. As of yet, I've kept my resent weird feelings to myself. Having freaky dreams that sometimes came true was one thing. These intense moments of ... whatever ... was something else. It made me look crazy. The last thing I wanted was the whole Honolulu University psych department looking at me through the lolo microscope. The little walk down to the big house allowed me to pull it together ... along with a big unhealthy dose of denial. At this point, denial was all I had and I was clinging to it. 

In the kitchen, I spied Hawk stacking several pieces of grilled teriyaki chicken on a plate heaped with fragrant rice. That spoke volumes about Matt's cooking because Hawk usually stayed away from greasy fatty foods and would sometimes lecture Matt, Aly and I on our destructive eating habits.

"Busted eatin' the fat," I teased. 

"I don't eat the skin," he said in his defense. 

As he passed by, I pinched at a chicken thigh on his plate. It was cooked to a crispy blackened perfection and the skin came away easily. Dramatically, I raised the loose piece of fat dripping skin over my head and lowered it into my mouth. The crunch was sublime, the taste perfect. 

"Ono," I said licking my grease smeared lips. 

An expression of both disgust and pity played on Hawk's face. He opened the fridge and pulled out a Michelob, which I immediately took from him. He reached in for a second beer then did an exaggerated circle around me to stay out of my reach. I laughed. Horsing around with Hawk made the weird feelings recede even further to dim corners of my head. 

With beer and food in hand, Hawk went to an open door just off the living room. In the living room, Aly lay stretched out on the sofa dressed in clean jeans and a t-shirt reading a textbook and munching on a drumstick. 

"Hey," I said with a hint of nervousness at what she might be thinking after our odd little encounter in the banana patch. 

She raised her hand with the piece of chicken in a casual salute. She seemed cool, thus proving that I was being over sensitive. My rumbling stomach pulled me in the direction of the food were I put together a plate that would make a sumo wrestler proud. With my grotesquely overloaded plate in hand, I peeped into the open door were Hawk sat on a plush little sofa in front of a grossly large flat screen TV. Playing on the TV was the pregame show for the football game. "Important game?" I asked. 

"Gwen, this is for the conference championship. This is the game of the season," Hawk said. 

I stared back blankly. 

"If Honolulu wins we get a bowl berth," Hawk said adding graveness to the moment. 

"Oh," I said with as little enthusiasm as possible.

He made a dismissive motion with his hand. 

I left the room 

"Communist!" he called after me. 

I laughed and went to sit with Aly in the living room to eat my chicken and fixings. 

Around mouthfuls, I expounded about the money wasted on college sports for men and how so many worthwhile humanities programs go under funded. 

Without looking up from her reading, Aly raised her fist to show her solidarity but the half eaten drumstick in her hand belied her sincerity.

"Where's Matt?" I asked with a mouth full of chicken.

"On the pool deck writing the great American novel on my laptop," she said.

"You trust him to use it?" I asked. For a smart guy, Matt was notoriously stupid when it came to tech stuff like computers and cell phones.

"If he doesn't throw it into the pool, it should be okay," Aly said. 

After putting a serious dent in my plate of food, I went out to the pool deck with a fresh beer in hand to check on Matt. I found him on a deck chair clacking away on the laptop. I sat down on the deck chair next to him; he didn't know I was there. After a long draw of beer, I said, "What you writing?" 

He looked up startled.

"Um, stuff," he said looking oddly guilty about something. He spread his hands out on the keyboards. Whatever he was working on went away from the screen. "Did I lose it all?" he asked in a panicky voice.

I got up and looked at the computer screen. 

"You just reduced it lolo," I said. "How have you gotten this far in life and not know the fundamentals of working a computer?" I clicked his reduced document to bring it back up. "I saw Aly's name on the screen and I asked, "What is this?" 

"I've been writing about our sexual encounters," he said sheepishly. "I wasn't sure how you would feel about that. Every time I write something down it seems to upset you."

"I'm not THAT neurotic," I said. 

He said nothing, which meant that he had a LOT to say.

"So what hot moment you working on now?" I asked, 

"Today's encounter." 

"Today?"

"We had sex," he said trying to sound casual.

"We? As in you and Aly?" I asked. 

"All of us ... Hawk too," he said with a nervous edge.

"I have no trouble with that," I said. "Why are you so up tight about telling me?"

"Um ..."

"Never mind," I said letting him off the hook. I took the laptop from him. "I wanna read this. Go get me another beer."

"Could you save first? It's been ten pages. I'm not sure how to do that on this laptop," he said.

"You've written almost ten pages and not saved?" I asked in horror. 

Matt shrugged and went to get my beer. With a shake of my head, I titled the document Fun with Aly, saved, and then started to read.

Chapter 59 Fun With Aly

By Matthew Anderson

I must have died and gone to heaven. Apparently, being kind to small animals and recycling was enough to get me in. Anyway, it was hard to imagine that the thing I had with Gwen and Hawk could get any better, but it sure did with the addition of tall, blonde, exotic, curvy, athletic, sexy and funny Alyson Reese. 

Aly's landlords asked her to house sit so she invited us over to make a weekend of it. All this week the temperatures were in the high eighties and lazing at Aly's landlord's poolside sounded just fine.

Hawk and I went out of our way to shorten our day to get to Aly's as soon as we could. Aly had the day off and Hawk borrowed her car since he had lone his Bronco to Gwen. In the morning, Hawk dropped me off on campus and I spent the day at the library researching a paper for my postmodern writing class. After he was done teaching a surfing class at Ala Moana Beach Park, Hawk picked me up and we hit Aly's landlord's door seconds before noon.

Hawk punched the doorbell repeatedly. "Open up woman!" he called out. "The pool is calling me!"

Aly answered wearing gym shorts, a Nike t-shirt and flip-flops. She looked her usual fresh gorgeous self. She being blond and Asian never fails to turn me on. I couldn't help but notice how her breasts strained the limits of her t-shirt, seriously distorting the Nike logo. Hawk and I kissed one of her cheek in turn, then we threw off out footwear and made a beeline to the sliding doors that opened to the pool deck. Aly cleared her throat, Hawk and I stop in our hurried tracks, both of us skidding a few inched on the polished hard wood floor. We noticed for the first time that Aly held a clipboard in her hands and she handed each of us a piece of paper. 

"That's a list of chores for each of you that needs doing before you hit the pool," she said. 

My list came with a hand drawn map of the interior of the house. In the bottom left corner of the map was a color-coded key for each part of the house. Hawk and I compared colorful maps; his was of the back and front yard.

"Are these maps OCD of what?" Hawk said. 

"I get the hothouse," Aly said ignoring Hawk. "We should all be done in an hour. Then it's pool party time." Aly led us to a utility room off the pool deck.

"I was led to believe that we were attending a weekend long pool party," Hawk gripped.

"Yeah," I added, "but in reality we were deviously lured into doing dirty work for someone else." 

"Shut up you lazy ass haoles," Aly said as she handed me two watering cans. 

"You haole too," Hawk complained. 

"Gwen says that my Korean half trumps my haole blood," Aly said. "I can get full local status, but you pasty ass white boys are doomed as outsiders forever."

"What kine bull crap this," I mumbled in a passable local accent. 

"Hawk, you will find hoses rolled up on wheels in the front and back yards," Aly said looking at her clipboard. "Follow your clearly stated instructions. Matt, here's a measuring cup, Brian and Oshi said that some plants in the house require specific amounts of water and plant food."

Brian and Oshi were the owners of the property. They were both Japanese in their late sixties and retired University professors. Their full names were Brian Tutsuku and Orin Oshita. Orin went by Oshi. The professors were lovers going back to the fifties. I had met the pair several times and had no idea that they were gay until Meka Okuda outted them a few weeks back. 

I went through the house with my watering can and measuring cup looking for the plants on my map to administer to their need. The half dozen African violets in the washroom made me wish I were a botanist because the instructions for each plant were convoluted. I left the washroom positive that I had murdered all the the violets. 

Done in the house, I went to look for the others via the screen covered pool deck then out the back fence to the back yard. Nobody was in the backyard so I headed up the hill to the hothouse. When I opened the squeaky screen door I was surprised to find that it was cooler inside. The structure was covered in a double layer of dark plastic screen that filtered out much of the sun's heat but allowed the light trade winds to flow through. A sudden light mist of water emitting from plastic jets in the ceiling infused the structure with mists of moisture. That felt absolutely heavenly. 

About fifty feet away Aly stood at the center of the hothouse watering a plant that looked like it could burst out of the chest of a man in a science fiction movie. She wore a dark blue bikini that covered the bare minimum and all her exquisite exposed skin glistened from the water mist from overhead, her long blond hair hung limp in curly damp clumps. She saw me at the door; waved and walked my way. She looked like a character fight out of a James Bond movie. The crescendo to Paul McCartney's Live and Let Die blasted inside my head. 

"Done inside?" she asked. 

I didn't respond. 

"You okay?" she asked with a perplexed look. Then she saw that my eyes were focused on her wet glistening cleavage. In a reasonable voice she said, "It was hot, this is cooler." 

"I'll say," came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Hawk standing near door I had come in. 

"Excuse me," Aly said pushing passed me, her bikini covered boobs made contact with my chest. She did the same to Hawk although she had plenty of clearance on either side of him. Hawk and I watched her scantly clad ass as she walked out of the hothouse. A smile bloomed on Hawk's face as he followed after Aly. I had grown to know that particular smile. Mirroring his smile, I followed too. 

Outside the hothouse, we watched Aly putt away a water hose like it was the dance of seven veils. When she finished securing the hose, she pretended to be surprised that Hawk and I had been watching the whole time.

"Pool time," she said, dusting her hands off. She headed to the back gate that led to the pool adding an unwarranted swing to her retreating backside for our benefit. Hawk and I kept at her heals. 

At pool side, she shucked her bikini top, posed for a spectacular second then dove into the water and swam to the center. She surfaced holding her bikini bottom in one hand and tossed it at our feet. "Get naked and get in," she said invitingly.

Hawk and I swiftly obeyed. Once naked, Hawk cannon balled in. But because of my lack of swimming ability, I walked over to the ladder on the shallow side and lowered myself into the water in a hesitant unmanly fashion. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 13



There was a yelp and Aly's naked body went flying through the air and landed near me with a big splash. She resurfaced floating on her back. I enjoyed the way her breasts broke the surface of the water. She put her arms out wide and with a scissoring of her legs, propelled in my direction. After floating in front of me for a few intriguing seconds, she let her legs drift down to the pool floor. In the shallow end, the water line came well below her full breasts. I couldn't resist caressing her stiff nipples with the palms of my hands. She pulled me in for a kiss causing my erection to slip up between us. After the kiss, we both looked to see where Hawk was. He sat close by with his legs dangling in the water, his erection pointing at the blue Hawaiian sky.  

"You two go ahead," he said. 

Aly and I indulged in another kiss. I can highly recommend making out in water especially with naked Alyson Reese. After the kiss Aly said, "I want you to do me with your mouth."

"You've become a head addict," Hawk said. "We may need an intervention."

"Hi, my name is Aly and I'm addicted to cunnilingus," Aly said in a junkie's droning monotone.

Hi, Aly," I said, carrying on with the joke.

"Hi yourself," Aly said in a husky voice as her right hand closed around Mr. Big (her nickname for my penis) under water and led me to the pool's edge. "Sit," she said slapping a wet hand on the pool deck. I pulled myself out of the pool and sat on the edge with my legs dangling in the water. She dropped below the surface and drifted away a few feet. Underwater, she propelled herself toward me, her ripply form drifted slowly my way. Her head broke the surface between my legs. With her long blond hair slicked back, she smiled sweetly as both her hands encircled my hard dick. After a couple of slow strokes, she took it into her warm mouth. Hawk dropped into the water and swam to one side of us to get a good view. Not for the first time, I wondered why Hawk watching turned me on so much and if it were a good or bad thing. It was easy not to ponder too much as Aly expertly worked me with her mouth and hands. She popped me out of her mouth, leaned in with her magnificent tits and squeezed my dick between them.

"Watch it, I'm close," I warned. 

"Don't hold back. Let it happen," she told me as she stroked and messaged my shaft with her luscious tits. "I find that when Mr. Big is done, you're more focused with your mouth. We should be polite though and not ejaculate in my landlord's pool."

"I think that is listed in the book of good manners," Hawk said. 

Aly laughed, pushed away from me, swam to the metal ladder and climbed out. Both Hawk and I enjoying her wet, glistening exit. She retrieved a towel, put it on the ground in front of a deck chair and knelt on it. I got up from the edge of the pool and lowered myself onto the deck chair. Aly put her mouth, hands and breasts to expert use pushing me an inch at a time to the edge of pleasure. With my dick firmly pressed between her breasts, I came. My first spurt went high and struck the underside of her chin, the rest spattered around the tops of both her breasts, oozing spectacularly all around them. When I stopped ejaculating she tenderly held me in her mouth until my breathing returned to normal. I noticed Hawk for the first time, standing near by stroking his dick.

"Need help?" Aly asked him. She leaned back to give him a good look at her messy chest. She made a point of fingering the stuff under her chin.

"No, go ahead I'm fine," Hawk assured her. 

Aly stood up; picked up the towel she was kneeling on and wiped herself clean. 

"Unlike a guy who can have sex on a bed of gravel, I need comfort," she said as she pulled me to my feet then led me into the house by the hand. Hawk followed. 

We made a few turns and ended up in the master bedroom. Aly pulled me down on the bed and we instantly discovered that it was a waterbed. 

"Those wild and crazy guys," Hawk said referring to Brian and Oshi. Aly and I kissed then I worked my way down her body loitering at the pleasant spot between her breasts were she always applied a dab of perfume. Even with all the pool activity, I still detected a hint of musky perfume. I kissed my way down to her belly, with sweeping side trips to both her pink-white nipples. Starting at her belly button, I trailed slow lazy kisses to her sparse, blond-platinum patch of hair. Continuing down, I encountered her moistness and indulged myself with small quick kisses, occasionally darting my tongue at sensitive areas. I couldn't do this kissing thing with Gwen; she would have accused me of loitering and insist that I get to work. 

Finally, I did go to work. Aly moaned, her body literally vibrating from my attentions. Soon I got into the rhythm that she liked, a side-to-side tongue movement with a lot of teeth and suction. The interesting sensation of the waterbed beneath me added a stimulating edge and I felt my dick stir. Her movements got more pronounced sending larger ripples through the waterbed.

"Hawk, grab my tits!" Aly said urgently.

"I guess my observer status is officially over," Hawk replied. 

"Shut up and touch me!" Aly almost screamed at him. Hawk complied just as she bucked her hips up and went rigid. I stopped all movement and pressed my tongue flat against her clitoris having learned that moving my tongue while she came would overwhelmed her thus forcing her to push me away. I waited for her body to relax, and when it did, I slowly started moving my tongue again for the second dip. 

"Stop," Aly said. She pushed Hawk aside and seized the sides of my head pulling my face up away from her crotch. "No offense Matt, but I need one of you inside me." I raised myself to my knees and Aly saw my hardon. "You horny bastard," she said, eyes wide with joy and wonder. "God be praised for the miracles of youth."

I was mildly offended by her comment. Gwen was twenty five, Aly twenty eight, Hawk twenty nine. I felt that at twenty-one I wasn't that much younger than them, but sometimes they all treated me like a kid. The thought was fleeting though as Aly and I switched positions. She held my dick steady and lowered herself onto it. She wasted no time getting up to speed and I watched her lovely tits bounce, filling my hands with them as she worked her way to orgasm number two. "Feel my tits Hawk," Aly said.

"This is becoming a habit with you," Hawk said as his hands joined mine exploring Aly's fine breasts. 

The addition of Hawk on the waterbed threw Aly and I off rhythm. After a half a minute of pointless sloshing Aly impatiently shooed Hawk away.

Hawk laughed. "Make up your mind Korean girl."

Aly ignored him, quickly getting back into a good rhythm. Aly suddenly dropped down and kissed me hard and forcefully. She filling her hands with my hair as her orgasm swept through her. Hawk and I sport many scratches and bruises from her passionate outbursts. We sometimes joked about putting on safety helmets for protection. Aly broke our kiss and gulped some air.

"Nice Mr. Big," she said near breathless. 

"I aim to please," I said and tapped both her wrists because she still had a hold of my hair. She didn't respond to my tapping so I had to say, "Aly? My hair?" 

"Oh, sorry," she said smiling weakly and loosened her grip. We flip-flopped and I entered her hot and anxious in the ever popular missionary. Each plunge of my hips sent a pleasing ripple across her full chest. "When you're ready, pull it out and spew on my tits, Hawk wants to see," she told me ... 

**********

... the story ended there.

"How does it end?" I asked Matt. 

"Like she asked me. I did it on her breasts," Matt said. 

"What was Hawk's happy ending?" 

"He took her from behind first then she let him come in her mouth. After that we went skinny dipping." 

"How much other stuff have you written about us?" I asked. 

"All of it," he said shyly.

"Can I read it?"

"When I clean it up." Then cautiously he asked, "What you think?" 

"Pretty good. But you used the word dick too much. I never liked the word. Don't ask me why." 

Chapter 60 The Scientific Method

"Game on," Hawk's voice came from inside the house. 

"Game on," Matt repeated. He took the laptop from me and went inside.

I followed and went to the refrigerator too retrieve my third beer. The sound of the football game spilled out from the TV room and I shouted, "Enjoy your misogynistic money wasting sports event!" 

"Beer please," Aly called from the couch.

I gave her mine and went to get me another. 

"Aren't you gonna watch the game?" I asked her as I handed the beer to her.

"I'll tune in in the last quarter if it's close," she said, then took a long swig of her beer.

"We are two beautiful women, mildly drunk, plump and ready for love making yet they choose to watch a football game?" I said with low grade contempt.

"Who you callin' plump?" Aly asked with a narrowed look.

"Just a figure of speech. I'm just saying that I take their interest in the game over me as a personal affront to my womanhood." I took a long drink of beer. 

"You're drunk," Aly said with her eyes on her reading. 

I sniffed, got up and marched in the direction of the TV room just as the boys whoop at something that had happened in the game. 

"Aly and I are taking our shirts off in here," I said just outside the door. 

"Keep your shirts on," came Hawk's amusing reply followed by more sports whoops. 

I pulled my shirt over my head exposing my perky B-cups in the sports bra. I pointed at Aly indicating that she should do the same. With a roll of her eyes, she put aside her reading and yanked her shirt off reveling a pretty peach bra. I ran to Aly, grabbed her shirt, and along with mine threw them into the room. 

"No, we will not keep our shirts on!" I yelled. 

"We'll woo you at halftime," came Matt's reply as the shirts came flying out of the room back at me. Aly laughed.

Getting into the silly groove, Aly said, "Our bras are off." She followed through with her threat urging me to do the same too. 

I took my sports bra off. "We're gonna do lesbian things to each other," I shouted.

"Lesbian things?" Aly asked.

"Give me a break, this is off the cuff," I said. 

"Do your lesbian things at the next timeout," Hawk suggested.

"I've got Aly's lushes tits in my hands right now," I said 

Expecting the guys to come rushing through the door, I ran to the sofa and practically dive tackled Aly, pushed her onto her back, straddled her at the waist and quickly filled my hands with her amazing boobs. Suppressing giggles, I waited for the guys to come running out. As I waited, I marveled at how perfect Aly's boobs felt both soft and firm all at once and wondered how that was possible? 

"I'm feeling Gwen's tits too," Aly said in a soft whisper that the boys couldn't possibly have heard. Her hands covered my breasts and gently kneaded them. I looked down at her laying under me. Her mouth was slightly open, her light blue-green eyes looked up at me with a expression of ... wonder? I looked at my hands on her chest intrigued by the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. "I'm going to kiss Gwen," Aly said in another soft whisper, she pulled me down to her and covered my mouth with hers. I instantly stiffened and made a sound of protest. Aly played tennis, golf or volleyball every weekend and she has taken to going with Hawk on his gym workouts. so needless to say, the chick has mucho upper body strength. No way was I going to pull free. But after a couple of pointless seconds of struggle, I found myself melting against her. I closed my eyes as my mouth, my body ... my mind softened. I felt Aly do the same.

So this is what it's like kissing her. No wonder the guys like it, I thought. I had never kissed a mouth so soft. Aly's hands slipped from my breasts and went up to my face gently cradling my head as the kiss advanced. 

I suddenly open my eyes, sat back up and crossed my arms in front of me to cover my bare breasts.

"Whoa," I said.

"So it wasn't just me," Aly said in a whisper. "Something did happen at the spider's web." Her hand went to her mouth and she absently touched her lower lip. 

That's really sexy I thought, as an all too familiar heat spread through my body making me tremble. I closed my eyes tight to gain some control.

"You want to keep going?" I asked with my eyes still closed. 

"Fuck yeah, but only if you do." she said.

I opened my eyes and looked down at her. A rush of panic gripped me but I kept it in check and said the first thing that came to my head, "You look really nice." 

"I'll take that as a yes," Aly said with a laugh. She pushed me off her and we sat facing each other on the sofa with our legs touching and that felt great. It made me think of the first time my lower body made contact with a boy while making out. The Boy was Aaron Fernandez, heir to the Fernandez Dairy empire. Aly spoke, pulling my mind back to the here and now.

"You look great in nothing but jeans too." She brushed her fingers over one of my knees. I realized that my arms were still crossed over my chest so I let my arms drop. Her eyes took in my smaller pair. "We take this as far as we want to go," Aly said seriously. "If either of us turns chicken it's over." 

I nodded. Aly stood and so did I.

She said, "Hawk and Matt are always going on about your ass." 

"They are?" I asked absently, "They say the same about your tits."

She spun me were I stood and I felt her hands brush over my ass. I leaned back against her to see what her her full breasts would feel like against my bare back. Of course they felt amazing. With her behind me, I twisted my neck and we kissed again. 

"Your mouth is so soft," she said at the end of the kiss.

I giggled. "I thought the same of you with the first kiss. And you smell so good. What are you wearing?" 

"Celestial Bodies ... by Stanley Love," she said in a sexy husky voice just like in the commercial and then kissed the back of my ear. She breathed in. "You smell good too, what do you have on?" 

"Jergen's bar soap ... with aloe," I said in the same husky voice. Aly's tongue tickled the edges of my ear. I took in a sharp breath and said, "At the risk of sounding cliché, the feel of your tongue on the my ear is driving me wild." 

She giggled and I turned around in her arms to face her. 

"Were you feeling me up when you were painting me the other day?" she asked.

"Not on purpose," I confessed.

"You do know that poor little Neffie thinks that you're a lesbian."

I laughed and then covered her mouth with a kiss this time aggressively hunting for her tongue with mine. Aly returned the favor. Our breasts met, mine below hers because of the obvious height difference. My hands got pleasantly tangled in her luxurious, silky blonde hair. Aly's hands focused on my ass, gripping each cheek, pulling me closer. 

When we came up for air I said, "Let's go to the master bedroom with the waterbed." 

She took my hand and led the way.

"How do you know about the bed?"

"I have my sources." 

"What about the guys?" Aly asked as she pulled me along. Moans of despair came from the TV room as something obviously bad had happened for Honolulu. 

"Fuck 'em, metaphorically of course," I said. 

She laughed.

"See you losers after the game!" I yelled as Aly pulled me down the hall.

In the master bedroom, with the door closed, I sat on the waterbed and watched Aly removed her jeans revealing peach colored panties that matched her AWOL bra draped on the living room sofa. 

"The color peach is perfect for you," I said openly marveling at her full firm breasts and light skin with a hint of sun that give way to faint freckles on her shoulders, cleavage and face. I liked the sexy light curve of her stomach and long flawless legs. How can she look like that and still be Asian? I thought. It's just not fair. 

"Change your mind?" Aly asked responding to my silence. 

"No, just freckled gathering."

"I'm going to even bother to ask what you mean by that." 

I stood up and peeled off my jeans. Topless in just our panties, we stood facing each other. Aly smiled in a way that made me think of Betty on that crazy drunk night in San Francisco years ago. Aly slid her panties to the floor, relieving her sparse, pale triangle. 

"How do you feel?" she asked. 

"Thrilled, a little wicked," I admitted. "But every time I've done this, you know ... with a girl?Something happens to break it up."

Aly went to the door and turned the lock. "There," she said. "it will take an act of God to interrupt us now."

I laughed. 

"So," Aly said silkily, "How many other chicks have you kissed before me?"

I leaned against the wall near the window and counted off on my fingers. "Betty in San Francisco, you know about that one. Emiko at the Ala Wai Arms. I think Hawk told you about that one. Li Hong—"

"Whoa!" Aly said. "You kissed Li Hong today?"

"No," I said. "I kissed her, or more accurately SHE kissed me at a nude photo shoot with Meka."

"Meka photographed you two kissing?" Aly asked totally astonished.

"No! I said. "Li kissed me when we were alone in my studio before the photo shoot."

"How far did you go?" Aly asked wanting to hear the dirty details.

"Only the one kiss ... I chickened out."

Aly made chicken sounds. It really annoyed me but it made me laugh too because it was such a Betty thing to do. "Li and I kissed again that same night at the photo shoot."

"So Meka DID take pictures of you guys making out!" Aly said pointing an accusing finger.

"No!" I said again. "Li and I were underwater—"

"Underwater?" Aly asked perplexed, "at the beach?"

"If you will stop interrupting!" I said with a roll of my eyes. She did stop and I told her about the underwater pool photo thing. 

With my back still against the wall near the window, Aly slipped her arms around me. She asked with her mouth inches from mine, "Did you kiss Li tonight?"

"Was gonna," I said. "Neffie kind of messed that up."

Aly pressed in the final inch and we kissed. 

It went on for a while. With every passing second, my temperature rose and my hands roamed all over her. In the building excitement, the lacy window curtains got tangled up between us. When the kiss ended I pulled at the curtain and it drifted across Aly's beautiful face. "I'm in a spider web," I said thinking of the spider from the garden. 

"Welcome to my lair," Aly whispered. 

She kissed me from the other side of her impromptu web. The lacy curtain didn't allow for proper lip lock but the kiss was interesting nonetheless. After the kiss, I giggled then took advantage of our height difference and easily bit at one of her nipples through the lace. I bit down hard. She yelped in surprise and then moaned almost in the same breath. One of her hands slipped between my legs pushing a hand full of lace against my crotch. 

That felt cool ... interesting ... wild.

"We're gong to ruin this curtain," I managed to say. 

Aly untangled us from the window treatment and we fell to the bed and engaged in what was perhaps the hottest kiss of my life to date, which included the handful of hot kisses just minutes ago. Our hands were a blur desperately touching everywhere possible. After a couple of minutes, Aly abruptly stopped. She rolled off of me and lay on her back, breathing hard with her eyes closed. I rolled on my back too and turned my head to look at her. My chest rose and fell in sync with hers.

"You changed your mind?" I asked not even trying to hide my disappointment. 

"No," she said with her eyes still closed. She took a couple more deep breaths and said, "I just need to slow it down is all. This is my first girl, girl thing. You have the advantage of swapping it with all those other chicks." 





Naked Portraits Pt. 13



"all those other kisses were super short," I reminded her. 

Aly rolled on her side to look at me. 

"My first time with a guy was a disappointment," she said seriously. "This is like being a virgin again. I want this to be ..." she didn't finish and rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling. After a deep breath she finished, "I want this to be memorable." 

"I promise I won't come in your mouth or tell all my friends on face book what a good lay you were," I said solemnly. Aly laughed. Then more seriously I asked, "How do you wanna do this?" 

She rolled on her side to face me again, shifted down a little, snuggled close and took my right nipple into her mouth, rolled it with her tongue then softly pulled it with her front teeth. I gasped and ran my fingers through her bounty of blond hair. 

After freeing my nipple from her teeth, she said, "I was thinking of taking a scientific approach," She shimmied up so that we were face to face again. "I'll do things and then ask if it's working. If not, I'll stop and do something else. Okay?" 

"Let's hear it for the scientific method," I purred. 

Aly ran the tip of her tongue along the outer edge of my right ear, making me giggle. 

"Ticklish I see," Aly said in my ear.

Next, with the tip of her tongue she traced my mouth. I parted my lips in anticipation of a kiss. The kiss came and she pushed me flat on my back and crawled on top of me. She was just as heavy as Hawk and I enjoyed her near crushing weight. Her tongue darted into my mouth meeting my tongue. The kiss ended quickly though as she moved down to my neck working my ticklish spots with lips, tongue and teeth. 

"You are super ticklish, girl," Aly said with a laugh of her own. "I'm gonna ask the boys where the best spots are." With that said, she found one of them where my right shoulder and neck came together. She nibbled the spot causing me to peal with laughter. 

Suddenly, she was at my breasts again. My laughter gave away to small panting breathes as Aly licking and nibbling my perky B's. 

After stretching my left nipple with a gentle bite, she asked, "How am I doing?"

"Aside from talking too much, pretty good," I said in a breathy voice. 

Aly laughed as she kissed her way down to my belly button. 

"You still got your panties on," she said.

"At least they're not in a bunch," I said. 

"Stupid head," she said, in passable pidgin.

She tapped at my hips and I lifted my butt. She slid my panties down my legs. With her face close to my pubic area she paused for a few seconds.

"Not quite sure how to go about this," she said. Little puffs of air brushed my clitoris as she spoke.

"You just speaking is kind of interesting," I said.

"The rain in Spain falls mainly on the planes," she said stupidly.

"Oo, I like Spain," I said.

She adjusted her arms with the elbows under my thighs resting her hands palms down on my stomach. I expected her to linger and test the waters with a few tentative lick or a kiss or two, but she took me by surprise and dove right in. 

"Holy shit, Aly!" I barked. 

She made a nonverbal sound, bobbed her head up and said, "I've learned a thing or two from master Matthew," she said, proudly. 

"The part you haven't learned is to keep quit from gabbing," I told her. I grabbed her by the hair and pushed her back in. After a muffled laugh, I felt her warm tongue explore the length of my clitoris. Her tongue stiffened, pressed in and flickered a bit, then she pressed in engaging her lips and teeth. 

I moaned my approval. 

As her mouth did its thing, her hands slid up from my stomach to my breasts where she fondled and pinched my nipples at key moments. I felt the first mild quiver of an orgasm, but it seemed far off. What Aly was doing was fun but I doubted she had the skill to get me there. She pressed in hard probing with her tongue and lips. Perhaps by pure dumb dog luck, she found a sweet spot. Sensing my reaction she was off to the races like a sprinter at the starting gun. In no time, my orgasm exploded and I filled my hands with her hair and roughly holding her exactly where I needed her. My grip slacked as my breathing and body relaxed. 

"You lied. You said you wouldn't come in my mouth," Aly said from down below.

I laughed.

"Matt did say that you pop easy," she added. 

I squeezed the sides of her head with my thighs. She laughed and yelped. 

"Popped?" I said indignantly. "What am I a bottle of soda? I'm kicking Matt's ass, but first I'm going to kick yours." I pushed her off me, rolled her on her back and pinned her arms over her head. She smiled up at me and in a blur of movement that made me squeal, I was suddenly under her again with my hands pinned above my head, proving that her superior size and athletic ability were more then a match for my scrawny artist's physique. 

"Bully!" I said in protest. She effectively shut me up with a kiss.

After the kiss, I licked my lips and said, "So that's what pussy tastes like."

She laughed and said "I'm one up on you on the lesbian chart. I ate pussy." She made a check mark with her finger in the air. She dropped down and we kissed again. After the kiss she whispered, "Your turn." 

In a spectacular blur, and more squealing from me, I was sitting above her again. She twisted under me and lay on her stomach with me straddling her thighs. 

"Gonna be hard to eat pussy like this," I said as I ran my hands over her spectacular smooth butt. 

"Hawk is always going on about your shiatsu massages," Aly said. "Give me one."

"Really? Right now? You want a massage?" I asked incredulous. "Lolo," I said as I kneaded her neck and shoulders.

"Nice," she said.

My hands flowed down her back with my thumbs following the bumps of her spine. I kept going until I had an ass cheek in both my hands. "You have an amazing ass," I said.

"You can kiss it if you like," she joked. 

"There's a long line of people ahead of me," I joked back.

"You can cut in line," she said lifting her it up a bit for emphasis.

I laughed and considered slapping it, but instead, I laid a loud smooch on each smooth cheek. Then I ran my tongue up the crack taking her and myself by surprise at my raunchy brazenness. 

"Hey, I said kiss it not lick it." She giggled then said, "That was interesting. Do it again! Don't worry, I was in the pool all day, my butt's as clean as an operating room." 

I lowered my face, gently separated her cheeks then placed the tip of my tongue right on the bud of her ass licking around the perimeter with a liberal amount of saliva. Then I stiffening my tongue pierced her hole burrowing as deep as my wet tongue would go. My right hand slid under her and found her clitoris fingering her in rhythm with my tongue sliding in and out of her ass. 

"Ohmygod!" Aly gasped with unrestrained pleasure. In less then a minute she came. When she calmed, I liberally licked her opening for a few seconds then said smugly, "Whose popping now?" Aly slowly flipped herself on her back.

"Touché," she said with a deep sigh. "You still owe me head though." 

I fingered the swell of her mound, liking how soft and almost downy she felt. I ran a finger along the shiny length of her opening. I pressed in and tasted her with a light lick on the tip of her clitoris making her wiggle and coo. 

"This is kind of daunting," I said. "What if I suck at this?" 

"Only one way to find out my Japanese princess," Aly said. "So less talk more munching."

Dipping in, I took all of her clitoris into my mouth just the way Matt would for me. I pressing my teeth in and flicked at her with my tongue. Aly wiggled and moaned so I kept at it. After a minute or so, my neck started to ache. Just as I was about to stop to rest, Aly grabbed my hair and pressed my face hard into her crotch, Her back bucked and arched lifting me into the air with her pelvis. 

"Holy fuck!" she said between huge intakes of breath. When she calmed a bit she asked in a breathy voice, "Where the hell did you learn to do THAT?"

I crawled up and flopped beside her on my back. 

"I copied the guys," I said as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "I only did to you what I've had done to me." 

"I highly approve." She rolled on her side to face me. "So which one of the guys put their tongue up your ass?" 

"Neither, that was my personal artistic touch. Speaking of which, I'm going to brush my teeth and use some mouthwash." 

"I keep my ass clean," she reassured me. She rolled on top of me and gave me a wonderful deep kiss, liberally exploring the inside of my mouth with her tongue. "Yum, you taste great," she said with her mouth still touching mine. 

I giggled and freed myself from her long limbs and went to the master bathroom anyway. In the medicine cabinet I found a bottle of mouthwash and copiously washed my mouth out. Aly entered the bathroom and turned on the shower. With no coaxing, I stepped in with her and quickly discovered how much fun her full breasts were all soapy and slick. She seemed to find my soapy ass just as appealing too. After the fun filled shower, we dried each other with the fluffiest towels that I have ever encountered.

As she toweled her long blond hair, Aly said, "This was a lot of fun."

I laughed as I dried my hair too. "When we tell the guys they are gonna lose their minds." 

"Let's not tell them just yet," she said.

"Why not?"

Aly shrugged. "There's kind of a purity to this and male hormones would just muck it up." Our eyes met and she gave me an odd look. I frowned too then we kissed deep and slow.

"Teach them to pay more attention to a stupid football game," I quipped after the kiss. 

Aly laughed. She wrapped the towel around her. "Cover up, come with me. There's something amazing I gotta show you." With the wonderful fluffy towels wrapped around us we paraded out to the living room and to the sliding glass door to the pool deck. Hawk and Matt were in the kitchen fetching beers and food. 

"The game over?" I asked.

"Halftime. We're behind but keeping it close," Matt said. "What's with the towels?" 

"We're going to the hot tub. You guy's wanna come?" Aly asked smoothly. 

"After the game," Hawk said.

Feeling deliciously guilty ... and on the verge of insane giggles, I pushed Aly through the sliding door. Hawk gave us a suspicious look as we left. The second we were out of view we gave into the giggles. In Aly's living room, surrounded by her angels, we locked eyes, got serious and fell into a long passionate kiss minus the towels.

"This is so interesting," Aly breathed, her face inches from my face. 

All I could do was nod. 

"You said you wanted to show me something?" I reminded her.

"Oh yeah, a couple of things." She stepped out of my arms and led me to her bedroom. "That first." she pointed at the wall near the window.

"You framed it," I said. "Very nice." 

We stood looking at Neffie's nude drawing of Aly. It was tastefully matted in black and gray with a dark, blackish silver frame. Aly stood behind me hugging me with her arms crossing over my breasts ... just the way Hawk does all the time. Big obvious difference was her tits pressing against my back and no erection pushing at my ass, although the subtle tickle of her pubic hair felt interesting. 

She let me go, stepped to the dresser under her portrait, opened one of the top drawers, fumbled around and held a hexagon shaped golden locket on a gold chain for me to see. "Take it. Open it," she said. 

I took the locket from her. The piece was heavy. I was no expert on precious metals, but I was pretty sure the thing was solid gold. I opened the locket and found a delicate little spider welded to the inside.

"No way," I whispered in wonder. 

"It was in that same drawer when I moved in," Aly said.

"This is kind of creepy," I said. 

I thought of the spider in the banana patch and young Nefertiti Ulamat's drawing pinned to my bulletin board back on campus, and of course my insane dream at Dr. Ling's.

"Look at Neffie's drawing," Aly said.

I did and immediately saw that she had drawn in a necklace around Aly's neck, at the end of the chain was a pale spider much like the one in the locket.

"I never noticed that," I whispered. 

My arms went all chicken skin. 

*****

In the following weeks, Aly and I behaved like an adulterous couple hiding our forbidden love. We couldn't get enough of each other and made out every free moment that came our way. On one sneaky day, Aly laid a kiss on me outside her bungalow in the garden behind the hothouse in the banana patch. The kiss literally made me swoon. When the kiss ended we both noticed our spider in its web inches from our heads.

"You asked Neffie about the spider in my drawing?" Aly asked. "Is the little chick psychic?"

"Far from it," I said. "She's become a bit obsessed with spiders and draw them all the time. She showed me her sketch book. There were spiders everywhere. After staring at the spider in the web for a few more seconds I asked, "I wonder what he's thinking?"

"It's female," Aly said, "I think she's just done eating another spider perhaps it was her mate." 

I noticed a scattering of dismembered spider legs near the center of the web. 

"Really? They do that?" I asked both horrified and fascinated. 

"A lot of spider species do," Aly said. 

"I wonder if lesbian spiders eat their mates?" I asked.

"You are a strange duck," Aly said with a laugh and a worried frown.



Naked Portraits Pt. 14



Notes from the author:

Hello reader. It's been a while since I put out the last chapters of Naked Portraits. Sorry, life sometimes demands my full attention. In part 13 I refer to scenes as far back as part one. When I went back to reference a few facts, I saw that I had posted the first story seven years ago ... wow. Anyway, hope you like the latest installment. 

On a side note, I'm planing a trip to Hawaii. It will be my first. My friend from Maui says he'll put me up in his parent's old farm house in a place called Haiku. He sent me pictures. The place is amazing. It looks like an old sixties hippie commune. Most of my story take's place on the island of Oahu in the city of Honolulu but a few key things happen on Maui too. My friend has put together a Naked Portraits tour just for me. He's found the statue of Clara in the Iao Valley. It floored him, freaked him out actually. He sent me pictures. She is as beautiful and eerie as Gwen described her. I'm looking forward to meeting Clara the forest goddess AKA Wahine Lani, the woman of heaven. 

******** 

Chapter 60 An Elevating Encounter

"I can't believe I'm enjoying a surfing movie," I said to Aly seated next to me in the dark theater. 

"And you said that this was so beneath you," Hawk whispered in my ear on the other side of me. 

"No," Aly whispered, "Gwen said that she would leave the theater DUMBER then when she stepped in." 

"YOU said that not me," I whispered to her. 

"I did?" Aly said feigning surprise. "I must be a comic genius." 

"You guys are snobs," Hawk said with a sniff. "You have no appreciation for nature's vast wonders or good hard rock-n-roll music." 

"I said I liked it so shut up haole boy," I quipped. 

Hawk covered my hand with his and sat back to watch the movie. Aly made a grab at my titties and I slapped at her hand. Hawk turned and gave us a frown

"She's touching me!" I complained.

"Do I have to separate the two of you?" he said sternly.

With a sly grin, Aly sat low in her seat and gripped my other hand. 

Two point five hours later, we paraded out to Kalakaua Avenue. It was winter break and Matt had gone back to Ohio having promised his family he'd be home for Christmas. 

"Do you have to go to Maui?" Aly asked Hawk.

"Gotta go," Hawk said at the entrance to the parking garage. "Some weird stuff has turned up at the archeological dig in Wailuku."

"How weird?" I asked.

"So weird that I can't talk about it," he said as he gave us each a kiss on the mouth.

"Stay away from that Stephanie chick," I warned him as he walked away.

He laughed and waved without looking back. 

"I'm Parked that way," Aly said as she headed down Kalakaua. I grabbed her arm and steered her in the opposite direction. 

"I wanna get some wine," I said as we entered a small grocery store. I purchased two bottles of white wine, a cheep corkscrew and two small trays of sushi. We were back in the bustle of Waikiki but instead of going to the car, I led Aly further down Kalakaua Avenue. "Let's get a room," I said. Stay on the strip. Pretend we're rich." I pulled her into the lobby of one of Waikiki's most swanky resorts. "What you think? Pretty grand huh?" I asked.

"Yeah grand but let's face it, we can't afford to shit here let alone get a room," Aly said. 

"Some crude," I said as I walked up to the front desk.

"What are you doing you crazy chick?" Aly whispered.

I identified myself. The dude at the front pecked at his computer then handed me a key card. "Care to take a dump on the seventh floor?" I said holding the card out to Aly. I headed toward the elevators with a cocky strut. 

"Who did you blow to get this?" Aly asked as we waited for an elevator to arrive.

"You are so dirty minded," I said. "My mom works here. She gets employee comp rooms and lets me have a weekend every now and then to escape dull campus life." 

"Since getting to know me, I would think that your life would NEVER be dull again."

"Your self importance never ceases to amaze me," I said. We rode up to the seventh floor then walked down the open-air breezeway to the room. At the door just passed our room two women were in a tight embrace kissing passionately. Aly did her best not to stare as we let ourselves into our room. I looked long enough to discern that the women were both Asian, one had long dark hair like mine and the other had a short reddish bob. Aly jerked me into the room. 

"It appears we're not the only lesbians checking in," Aly said the moment the door shut. 

"I'm not a lesbian," I said automatically.

"You keep sailing on the Nile river my Japanese princess."

"Stupid head." 

"This is nice," Aly said taking in the room. 

It was large by Waikiki hotel standards. A giant king size bed dominated the center of the room, two cream-colored lounge chairs stood guard at the sliding doors to the balcony, a flat screen TV took up the wall opposite the bed. On the wall above the bed was a high quality canvas reproduction of a Paul Gauguin painting titled, 'Woman Holding a Fruit.'

"Misogynistic fuck hole," I said.

"What did you call me" Aly asked.

"Not you, Gauguin," I said pointing at the Gauguin reproduction.

Aly looked at the painting. A bare breasted woman in a red lava-lava with yellow floral print held a big pear like fruit in her hands. The woman's features were classic Polynesian looking out at the viewer with a brazen sexual visage. In the background was a quaint Tahitian village populated by other women clothed and semi clothed. The colors in the painting were standard Gauguin, bright, bold and flat in some areas.

"It's beautiful," Aly said, "but I take it you have issues with it." She went into the bathroom and came out with two drinking glasses. 

"ALL pacific Island peoples have issues with Gauguin, especially us women," I said putting the cheap corkscrew to work on one of the bottles of wine. 

"Us women? We do?" Aly said. She sighed theatrically. "Is this gonna be another one of your feminist art rants?"

"Yes it is." After a sip of wine I ranted, "A lot of contemporary pacific art is seen through the filter of Paul Gauguin, a white European male who came to Tahiti looking for hot easy sex with native women. We call that consuming the other." 

"Yeah, yeah, yada yada, Aly said hearing this for probably the thousandth time. She dropped her long beautiful body onto the bed and turned her head to look at 'Woman Holding Fruit.' "That girls a dead ringer for Deirdre, Meka's hot goth friend." She looked away from the painting and stretched luxuriously. "Maybe your theory hold's some water. Suddenly, I'm thinking of an all Hawaiian girl group thing with Deirdre and sexy Oleander from sculpture."

"You're an over sexed idiot," I said.

"Look whose calling the kettle black." She took a drink of wine then slid over to check out the sushi selection. She held out two round tuna rolls and held them over her nipples. "I would love to eat each of these off the perky point of Oleander's chest." 

"Stupid head. You make arguing feminist theory pointless." I leaned in and bit at the roll over her left nipple.

"Get your own," she complained and popped the other sushi into her mouth.

"You been checking out other girl?" I ask as I plopped on the bed next to her.

"Yeah. Ever since you and I started up my horizons have broadened. I've been having some fierce fantasies about Meka, tell you what."

"You like her because she's as tall as you."

"I'm taller. She's five ten and I'm an even six. I like the height but It's her glorious tits that I lust after."

I stood up, quickly undressed, dropped back on the bed onto my back and placed a California roll at the center of my black pubic patch between my legs." Would you eat this off of Meka just like this?" I asked. Aly took a sip of her wine and placed the glass on my tummy. The wet cold cup made me gasp. 

"Don't spill it," she warned.

"I'm not a coaster," I complained.

Aly held her blond hair to one side, slid down and delicately lifted the sushi off my pubic mound with her teeth. She looked up at me as she snaked the sushi into her mouth with her tongue. She retrieved her wine off my belly, tipped the glass and poured a tiny bit into the dent of my belly button making me gasp again. She bent and with a soft slurp, drank the wine off me. It tickled and I giggled. She crawled up and kissed me. She sat up and looked down at me. In one big swallow, she fished the wine and put the glass aside on the nightstand. She looked at me primly for a second then threw herself at me. I squealed, she quickly shut me up with a kiss. Her full weight pressed down on me and I loved the feel of her clothed body against my naked skin. The kiss broke, she looked down at me, her long blond hair tickled my face, neck and shoulders. 

"You are just so beautiful," she said. 

I smiled at her generous compliment.

She stroked my cheek and said, "If you told me a year ago I'd be slurping wine off the body of a hot Japanese chick I'd probably punch you in the face. Everyday I keep expecting this thing with you to fade or diminish somehow." One of her hands slipped between my legs, I gasped and shivered at her touch. "Definitely not fading tonight." She kissed me lightly. "You're in that mood," she said with our lips still touching.

"What mood is that?" I asked in a breathy voice enjoying her lustful attentions.

"You're so hyped that you'd do anything I ask."

"When have I ever done that?" I asked innocently.

"Every fucking time. Just last week at the my landlord's pool you were a porn queen freak. You did everything the boys asked you to do."

"One wild night hardly makes me a freak," I said sitting up doing my best to look offended. 

"Okay miss prim and proper, stand on the balcony naked."

I gave her the stink eye even as a flush of excitement pricked my skin. Suppressing a smile, I pushed her off me, slipped off the bed, threw the drapes aside, slid opened the door and stepped out into the warm Waikiki night. 

A light breeze caressed my naked skin sending shivers up my spine as I stepped up to the metal railing. I brushed my hair from my face as I looked to the left hoping that the kissing lesbians were out. Their balcony stood dark and empty. I looked to my right and my heart skipped when I saw two men staring at me on that balcony a bare ten feet away. My first instinct was to cover up and run back into the room. One of the men said something in Tokyo accented Japanese that I didn't catch. A third man stepped onto the balcony. They stood motionless as if viewing a wild animal ready to bolt at the slightest movement. That wasn't far from the truth as adrenaline raced through my body making me tremble.

"Come back in you idiot!" Aly called from the room.

In a slightly shaky voice I called out to Aly, "Come out and kiss me. I dare you." Aly came out. I threw myself at her and turned her so that her back was to the men on the other balcony. As we kissed, I kept my eyes open and on the three men. They looked on in awe. I wondered what they thought of tall, blond, Asian Aly.

Aly cut the kiss short and said, "Come inside you little freak before someone calls the cops." I slickly backed her up so she wouldn't see the men. After the warm air on the balcony, the room felt chilly, my already exited nipples were hard enough to chip ice. I slid the balcony door shut and drew the drapes. Jittery with excitement, I fell on the bed. There was no denying that I loved having an audience. Under the excitement though was an old fashion sense of shame at my brazen behavior ... and that too was kind of thrilling. Aly pulled her shirt over her head and at the same moment her cell phone chirped.

"Don't you DARE answer that now," I said.

"You know I'm on call so put a pin in it you little pervert." In her dusty pink bra and snug black slacks, Aly dug the phone out of her bag. She looked at the incoming number and frowned. "It's my assistant Ashley." She put the phone to her ear. "Hello Ash ... whoa, slow down ... What are the fluctuations?" 

I listened to her side of the conversation. With each passing second Aly's voice grew edgier. "... No ... do nothing, just get him to calm down. Did he hurt himself? That's good. Are you okay? Good. Stay cool Ashley, I'll be there in forty-five minutes." She clicked her cell shut. 

"Somebody get hurt?" I asked.

"Test subject ... nothing serious ... but I gotta go. How long do you keep the room?"

"Noon Sunday," I said. 

She crawled on the bed, kissed both my stiff nipples and then my mouth. "This might take me all night. See you at breakfast." She put on her shirt and left me naked and disgruntled. 

I finished off the sushi and the open bottle of wine. After a long decedent hot bath, I lay on the big bed in a hotel robe, searching for something to watch on the big flat screen TV. It didn't take long to polish off the second bottle of wine. In the middle of a Science Channel special on spiders, I bemoaned my predicament. I have three lovers and yet here I am watching the Science Channel ALONE in an expensive Waikiki Hotel. 

On the TV screen, a spider wrapped webbing around a snared fly. I Absently fingered the spider locket around my neck that Aly had found in her bungalow. She had given it to me. It was karma that I own it Aly had decided. The locket was beautiful and the only thing made of real gold that I owned. I dropped on my back and looked up at Gauguin's 'Woman Holding Fruit' hovering over my head.

"I don't have to stay sober," I said to Gauguin's topless lava-lava girl. 

Room service was out of the question. No way was the Japanese in me gonna pay fifty dollars for a bottle of wine. It was eleven forty, if I hurried I could get more wine at the convenience store before the 11:50 state alcohol cut off. I put on my jeans and shirt negating bra and panties for expediency. I made it to the store just in time. Instead of wine, I bought a six-pack of Kirin beer and three spam musubi. 

Back at the hotel lobby, I rushed to a departing elevator just as the door was closing. My floor button was already glowing. I furtively scanned the people in the elevator, three men each holding plastic grocery bags like me. My face turned beet red for these were the same three Asian men who saw me buck naked kissing Aly on the balcony. It was clear that they recognized me too. 

The tallest was my height, handsome with black hair in a crew cut. The other two were a couple of inches shorter than me, one skinny with long Mick Jagger like hair, kind of handsome with a slight under bite. The third guy was on the petite side, balding and sporting a goatee beard. All were in their late thirties or early forties.

"Warm night," crew cut guy said in Japanese.

"Yes, Waikiki nights are always like this, even in winter," I returned politely in Japanese adding a small customary bow.

"I heard you on the balcony. You are local but your Japanese is excellent," the guy said.

"My grandmother insisted I learn."

"Your tall blond friend ... she Japanese too?"

"Korean," I said. 

Their collective colognes filled the elevator, under that was tobacco and beer. I suddenly felt light headed. My skin started to crawl and a weird feeling not unlike a marijuana high kicked in. What the hell? I thought with a spike of panic. Then this crazy need for the men to touch me popped in my head. Did someone slip me some ecstasy? My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that I was sure everyone in the elevator could hear it. Aly's words from earlier filled my head ... You're in that mood ... you'd do anything. 

Boldly, or more accurately, INSANELY, I nudged crew cut guy with my shoulder causing our plastic grocery bags to bump and crinkle. 

"Touch my waist," I whispered in Japanese. 

Hesitantly, crew cut guy's free hand caressed my waist. I rubbed my hip against his ... he didn't pull away. I shifted a bit so that my right ass cheek rubbed against his crotch. The dude was totally erect. 

"My breasts ... touch them," I whispered. 

He lowered his bag to the floor of the elevator and stood behind me. His hands slipped around front to explore my breasts through my shirt, my already hard nipples tightened even more. The dude tentatively brushed his hardon against my ass. I pushed my hair to the side. He didn't kiss me but his lips were close to my skin and his hot breath on my ear and neck made me shiver. His breath smelled of beer. I grabbed one of the hands at my breasts and guided it down to my crotch. He kneaded me through the thick fabric of my jeans. His lips touched the back of my ear.

I gasped.

The elevator bell chimed and we separated like teens caught making out on a porch swing as the door slid open to our floor. I slapped the button of the highest floor, dropped my bag and turned to face crew cut guy. His mouth instantly covered mine. Not surprisingly, he tasted of beer. I quickly broke the kiss and said to Mick Jagger under bite, "Feel my ass." The scent of tobacco grew stronger with under bite's closeness. Crew cut hiked up my shirt to expose my A-cups. Both men seemed surprised and delighted that I wore no bra. 

The third guy, goatee beard watched intently with one hand around the handle of a plastic grocery bag, the other hand thrust deep into the pocket of his khaki trousers. Goatee and I locked eyes. He was nervous. Apparently, women don't expose themselves on a regular bases where he came from. 

And just like that, my head cleared and I saw how crazy and dangerous this was.

The elevator bell chimed at the top floor. I picked up my bag and rushed out the moment the door slid open. As I pulled down my shirt to cover my exposed tits, I ran down the breezeway to a far exit door. When I reached the door, I look behind me. The breezeway was empty, none of the men had followed out of the elevator. 

They probably thought I'm a fucking nut case and at the moment, I didn't think them wrong. Breathing hard, I leaned against the exit door to allow my heart to slow then I took the stairs down to my floor. I cracked the stairwell door and peeped down the breezeway. No one was about. I sprinted to my door, let myself in and leaned in the entryway to allow the spike of adrenaline to ebb away. To hasten the process, I popped a beer and swallowed nearly all of it. The sound of my cell phone made me yelp. I covered my mouth with both my hands to hold in the hysterical laughter that threatened. I picked up the phone, it was Matt. 

"Hey," I said missing him so much I found myself close to tears.

"Did I wake you?" Matt asked from Ohio.

"No, drinking some beer."

"Hawk with you?"

"Hawk's on his way to Maui." 

"And Aly?" 

"Called in for some genetic emergency."

After a long pause, Matt spoke in a serious tone. "Can I talk to you about something?"

My earlier panic returned. Somehow he KNEW about my grope session in the elevator. 

"Sure," I said, seconds away from confessing and apologizing.

"I think Aly's seeing someone." 

I blinked in confusion at the unexpected comment. 

"What?" I asked.

"It's just a feeling. Lately, she's been steals away ... like she did with you tonight." 

I held back a laugh. Aly is seeing ME I thought. 

I said, "If Aly were seeing someone I'd know but I'll grill the chick if you like?"

"No," he said quickly, "I'm just being a stupid head."

"Yes you are. Go enjoy your family and don't worry, Aly's not seeing any one outside the group." 

"I love you," he said.

"Love you too, stupid haole."

We hung up. I wondered why he suspected Aly of cheating and not me? Did he trust me more than Aly? A stab of guilt struck me since I was the one rubbing my ass against a stranger's crotch just a little while ago.

Chapter 61 An Odd Proposal

At every stoplight my eyes flashed to the rear view mirror to look at the large black and gold spider filling the backseat of Hawk's Bronco. The creepy creature floated on an impressionistic background of green, black and deep reds segmented in cubist fashion hinting at the intricacies of a spiderweb. I was proud (and relieved) that I had found a middle ground for the figurative and the abstract. At least in this painting anyway. A honk behind me made me jerk my eyes away from the painting. The light had changed and I lurched into the intersection. A few minutes later I pulled up to Aly's place in Manoa. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 14



As I toted the four foot by four foot painting up the pathway to Aly's house, Oshi, one of the owners of the front house, walked my way via the pool deck of the big house. Oddly, he too carried a painting in his hands. He waved at me as we met at the fork in the path.

"You do that?" Oshi asked. 

I nodded. "You do yours?" 

Oshi laughed. "I wish. 

Oshi was skinny, completely bald and barely sixty inches tall. He was in his seventies but appeared spry. He wore a dull blue work shirt and jeans with the knees worn to a lighter blue, evidence that he did most of the garden work around both houses. 

"Nice, looks like the spiders in my banana patch," he said eying up my painting. 

"It IS of a spider in your banana patch," I said with a smile, proud that I had caught the arachnid's likeness. 

Oshi held out his painting for me to see. It was a thirty by forty inch portrait of a young handsome Asian man done in a style that made me think of John Singer Sergeant. The figure was nude sitting cross-legged on a fancy divan. A dark cloth draped his lap barely covered his privates. The expression on the figures face was just a twitch away from a smile, his hair a messy pompadour that made me think of James Dean, a rose tattoo adorned the figures stomach to the left of his bellybutton.

"He's hot," I said and meant it.

Oshi Laughed. "I think so too. That's Brian."

I covered my mouth in genuine surprise. "Mr. Tutsuku?"

"The one and only. He's had this hidden away for years. I'm gonna frame it and put it over the sofa even if it pisses him off."

"May I?" I asked as I handed him the spider painting then took Brian Tutsuku's painting in my hands to gave it a professional once over. The signature was done in red capital block letters and easy to read, Maggie Edo. The background was full of shelves with odd knickknacks painted in striking detail. One object jumped out at me, a wooden box of chopsticks with the words Spirit Woods written in black Japanese characters over red. It was the exact kind of box I used to make my first offering to Wahine Lani back on Maui. "A Very skilled hand did this," I said admirably. "When was it done?" 

Oshi scratched his bald head. "Brain was twenty four so I think 1959?" We swapped back paintings and Oshi asked, "Are you going to frame yours?" 

"I haven't considered it," I said honestly. "It's big and would cost a fortune." 

"I Have a friend in Kaimuki. He own a frame shop. He'll give you a deal if you like?"

"That would be nice but I'm giving it to Aly so that would be her decision." 

Oshi nodded his small bald head. "Aly is a beautiful girl," He said. 

I knew Oshi was gay so his compliment wasn't a come on, but I DID sense something behind it.

After an awkward pause, he asked, "Would you and Aly like to do some modeling?"

"Excuse me?" 

He rubbed his head and continued, "It pays very well." 

He looked at me clearly gauge my reaction. I managed to keep my expression neutral. 

He kept rubbing his head and said, "Brian is a member of a club. The club sponsors and pays for private modeling sessions. He mentioned you and Aly at the club. You interested?" 

"What exactly do you MEAN by modeling?" I asked. 

"Um ..." he said nervously rubbing his belly now. 

"So getting naked is what you mean," I said bluntly. Oshi shrugged and nodded. I laughed and said, "Not that I'm interested, but how much does this club pay their MODELS?" 

"Depends," Oshi said tying to sound casual, "as high as ten thousand I hear." 

My jaw dropped open. Then my eyes narrowed with deep suspicion.

"What would I have to do for ten thousand dollars?" 

"No more then you've already done with your two boyfriends," he said with a shrug. 

I stared at him blankly waiting for him to explain what he meant.

He seemed reluctant to go on. The old dude blushed. What would possible make an old gay man blush I wondered? 

He cleared his throat. His pidgin accent thickened as he continued. "A month ago Brain and me go out of town. Our plans change and we came home early. Aly throw pool party with you and the two haole boys. You didn't know we had come home. From the sliding doors we watch for a little bit. We didn't wanna ruin the party so we sneak out again and stay at a friend's place." 

It was that wild night Aly had brought up at the hotel a few days ago. I closed my eyes and moaned inwardly. That night Aly, Hawk, Matt and I were playing a drunken and VERY dirty game of truth or dare. The game ended with me blowing both guys in true porn diva form. 

"Your two boyfriends are very blessed and I was...ah... impressed by your abilities." 

"Oh my god," I whispered as I covered my face with my hands. 

"Tell Aly about modeling thing. If you interested come over for dinner tonight," Oshi said. "If you no come I understand and no mo' talk." He walked down the path to the driveway; he stopped, turned, and said over his shoulder, "Brian go make his famous saimin." 

I watched him disappear around the corner. I heard the rolling of the garage door and didn't move until I heard his car start up. 

This was planned. He saw me coming and came out to make his odd proposal. 

Chapter 62 The Best Saimin

"I can almost see the green dollar signs in your eyes and hear the ka-ching of a cash register," Aly said. "And what the hell is saimin?" 

"Saimin is a noodle soup," I said. 

Aly looked at me blankly. 

"You know? Like ramen cup-a-noodles?" I rolled my eyes. "What kind of Asian are you?"

Aly rolled her striking blue-green Asian eyes right back at me eyes. "Back to the point. I could lose my position at the university if I pose naked for photos for Brain and Oshi's dirty boys club. Think what your family will say if it got out you did this."

"I'm an art major. My family expects me to appear in a porno movie at some point in my life." 

Aly laughed, but she knew that there was a serious edge to my joking for I was one big squishy bundle of unresolved family issues. Aly got up, walked behind me and hugged me as I sat on one of her high bar stools. I swiveled around to face her and our mouths met in a soft kiss. I never told her about Matt's call at the hotel. And I certainly didn't tell her about my grope session in the elevator with the Japanese guys. I decided I would take that gem of a memory to my grave.

The kiss wound down. I drew back and said, "Just for laughs, let's go hear what the old guys have to say. Worst, we get a free meal out of it."

*****

"Let me get this straight," Aly said in a polite but stiff voice. "You are a member of a secret club that caters to the base needs of its members and that includes making private porno films?" 

"A crude assessment," Brian Tutsuku said as he shoveled tasty noodles into his mouth with chopsticks. Brian was seventy two with totally white hair but still as handsome as the young man in the painting. I wondered what the rose tattoo looked like today?  

"It's art," Oshi said. "Back in the sixties we were less uptight about it."

"Who foots the bill?" I asked. I dipped my ceramic saimin spoon into the steamy soup and slurped the best pork broth I had ever tasted in my life. 

"Some members are real rich, they finance most the projects," Oshi said. 

"This is the best wine for pork ramen, "Brian said as he refilled my glass with a red wine that had a German name I couldn't pronounce. It was my third glass.

"What do you two get out of this?" I asked. 

"Good question," Aly said as she tried to get some noodles to her mouth with her chopsticks but it all slipped back into her bowl. Oshi got up and returned with a fork for her.

"How come nice Asian girl like you no can use chopsticks?" Oshi joked. 

"I'm from Wisconsin," Aly said as she swirled her fork in her hot noodles. "What would two old gay men get out of a porn film staring Gwen and I?"

I blushed at Aly's directness. I wanted to ask that very question, but the polite Japanese in me made it imposable to voice it so directly. I quickly tried to soften Aly's mainland bluntness with a polite compliment. 

"This broth is amazing."

Brian smiled and nodded a tiny bow. "Oshi's mother's recipe," he said. 

Oshi frowned. "She no give ME the recipe," he complained.

"Because she knew you hopeless in the kitchen," Brain said.

"So is Aly," I said.

"It just means we're smarter," Aly said to Oshi. "We let others do all the work so we can eat."

"Yeah, az right," Oshi said giving Brain a defiant nudge. "You work and we eat."

Both old men laughed. Brian looked absolutely radiant when he laughed. No doubt about it, the guy was a charmer in his younger days ... hell he still was! 

"I get a finders fee," Brain said in answer to Aly's question.

"So you told your little club about Gwen and me after watching us mess around with the boys?" Aly asked.

Time for me to blush again.

"Gwen was already on their radar before that," Brain said.

"How in god's name did she manage that?" Aly asked as she gave me a suspicious look.

Before I could proclaim my innocence to any wrong doing, Oshi said, "They saw Gwen in the movie made for the Kahakalohas."

"Your club made that movie?" Aly asked surprised.

"We sponsored it," Brian said. 

"I was only on for just a couple of seconds," I said.

"Was enough I guess," Brain said. 

"They liked what they saw," Oshi added.

Brian gave Aly a leveled look. "They'd be interested in you too, no doubt." 

"And you get money if you bring us in?" Aly asked returning the look.

"Little bit, but mostly I get to push my own projects to the forefront," Brian said as he pinched a thin piece of roasted pork with his chopsticks, popped it in his mouth and chewed. 

"Everything is very discreet and ultra private," Oshi said reassuringly. 

"The Kahakaloha stuff is all over the internet," Aly said.

"The Kahakalohas did that on their own," Brian said.

"I'm sorry guys but I'm not interested in making a porn film for a secret sex club," Aly said. She held out her glass for more wine and Brian poured without a hitch. 

"I would like to meet with the people in charge if that's possible," I said. 

Aly gave me a disapproving look as Oshi handed me a business card.

Chapter 63 Wisconsin Cumshot 

"Gwen, this is a really stupid idea," aly said as we walked back to the bungalow. 

"I'm not going to do it," I assured her. "I just wanna see what this is all about. From an artistic point of view It's kind of exciting." 

"And from a human female point of view its disgusting," Aly said. "I know this is feeding into that part of you that likes things nasty and dirty. For once don't listen."

"So you don't wanna get nasty and dirty tonight?" I asked innocently.

"Check that. You can listen to your dirty side all you like tonight."

I laughed. 

Back at Aly's, I got out the business card Oshi gave me. It was unadorned with nothing but a 808 area code phone number in dark blue on it. 

"Put that away you little freak," Aly said.

I shoved the card into my back pocket. 

Matt and Hawk were off watching a basketball match between Honolulu and some college from Alaska. They had asked Aly to join them but she turned them down claiming she wanted some girl-girl time with me. If only they knew it was girl ON girl time. Anyway, with my generally over stated dislike of organized male sports, the guys didn't bother asking ME to to go to the game.

Aly picked up a piece of paper from her kitchen counter and read from it aloud. "Dinner, beer, naked tub time, cuddling, a movie, then nasty stuff. I'll crossed off dinner since my perverted landlords provided that already." She sat on the sofa next to me and casually dropped her list on the glass topped coffee table. I laughed when I saw that her list was a coupon flier from Longs Drugs.

"Let's skip everything and get right to the nasty stuff," I suggested.

Aly laughed and covered my mouth with hers. After the kiss she said, "You're only seventy percent in this room girly. You still got this porn shit on your mind don't you."

It was true. My little stint in the Waikiki hotel elevator with the three Japanese guys had been replaying in my head for weeks now. I played up the money part. 

"I could uses ten thousand dollars. You have a kinky side. Aren't you just a little bit curious about being in a sexy movie?" 

"Being fucked in uncomfortable unnatural positions with no concern for my pleasure? Having guys come on my face? Who wouldn't be turned on by that? Exploitative ... degrading ... how fun."

"Don't sugar coat it. Tell me exactly how you feel," I said.

Aly laughed and kissed me again. As we kissed my mind went to the little film I helped Meka make back on Maui. Cassie Kahakaloha certainly seemed to be having fun. Then I thought of my brief appearance near the end of that film ... they like what they saw Oshi had said. 

Aly stopped the kiss abruptly, pulled back and gave me a hard look. "Oh my God Gwen. You are seriously considering doing this."

"The movie I helped Meka make looked like fun," I reasoned.

Aly wagged a finger. "That wasn't a porn film. It was a nice couple getting it on with a super hot friend not a fuck fest gangbang with facial cumshots which I'm sure is the standard fare for that old boy's club."

"You don't know if its gonna be that. And besides, cum facials aren't ALL that bad," I said.

"Glory be girl," Aly said with a roll of her eyes. "You let Hawk and Matt come on your face when I'm not around?"

"No. I did it myself," I confessed.

Aly laughed. "Don't hear THAT everyday," she said. "So tell me my Japanese princess? How did you manage to come on your OWN face?"

I told her about my hand cream experiment before meeting Hawk all that time ago.

"It blinded you and tasted like crap. Sounds like a lot of fun to me," Aly said. "Next time use honey, half and half and a little bit of cola whipped in a blender on high. You'll get the right consistency and it should taste a hell of a lot better than hand cream."

"And how did you come across this interesting concoction?" I had to ask.

"A science experiment I did back at Wisconsin," Aly said nonchalantly. "The experiment called for a liquid with the exact viscosity of male sperm."

"Really? A science experiment?" I asked skeptically. 

"Okay it was for a frat party I went to. A friend came up with a game called Wisconsin cumshots. A shot of tequila with the my concoction haphazardly splashed over the rim of the shot glass. 

I got up and went to her kitchen and started to open cabinets.

"What the hell are you doing?" Aly asked.

"Where's the tequila?"

"Cabinet above the microwave." 

I pulled down an unopened fifth of tequila. In the fridge I found a carton of half and half and a can of Coke. In the pantry I found honey in a squeezable bear container. 

"Where's the blender?" I asked.

"Door left of the stove," Aly said.

I plugged the blender in. "Make me sperm woman," I demanded.

"Not my gender forte ... but okay." Aly said stepping into the kitchen with me. She pushed pass me and pulled two shot glasses down from a cupboard over the stove. She broke the paper seal on the tequila and poured two shots. She picked one up and knocked it back with a grimace. "You too," she said with a shiver. 

I knocked back the other shot shivering and grimacing too. 

"Okay, I think we're ready," Aly said. "Let's make some man juice without the benefit of testicles."

Twenty minutes and several small adjustments later we had a reasonable sperm facsimile. Aly transferred the concoction from the blender into a small bowl using a rubber spatula. I dipped my finger in coating it with the clingy, creamy, white stuff. I took a tentative lick then stuck my whole finger into my mouth. "This isn't bad," I said. "The soda adds an interesting edge."

"I used it mostly for color." 

I poured two more tequila shots. 

Aly got a fork from a drawer, dipped it in the bowl of thick liquid, spun it a couple of times and lifted it out. The stuff clung to the knife no trouble but threatened to ooze off so she quickly spun the fork to regain balance. 

"Oh baby, here it comes!" Aly said in a breathy voice. With a snap of her wrist she sent the stuff flying. A gloppy strand slapped across both shot glasses."Oh yeah. You like that you little sluts?" Aly asked. She picked up an anointed shot glass and knocked back the tequila. Then in total porn sleaze, she licked the messy exterior of the class clean of her woman made spunk. After a dainty wipe at the corners of her mouth she said, "The Wisconsin Cumshot," and slammed the empty shot glass, top down onto the counter. "Drink up princess."

I swept the remaining shot up and drank it down without a hitch. The thick sweet goop clung to my tongue blunting the awful taste of the tequila.

"That's it, swallow my jizz baby," Aly said. 

I choked back a laugh then seductively rubbed the shot glass over my lips and chin making little gasping sounds of pleasure for effect.

"Oh I'm sure the old man's club would like that," Aly said then she covered my messy mouth with a sloppy kiss. 

"We are positively drunk," I said after the kiss.

"Just you sugar," Aly said. "Two shots won't faze me much. I've got fifty pounds on you easy."

"Oh then you must be a hundred and—"

"Shut the fuck up," Aly snapped.

I laughed, stuck my finger in the bowl and lapped up more of her artificial man jizz. As I sucked on my fingers I said, "I wanna come on your luscious tits."

"You are one sick freak," Aly said as she removed her shirt. Beneath, she wore a black sports bra that perked up her perfect pair nicely. I would sell my soul to the devil for tits like hers. In just her jeans and bra she looked fabulous. No wonder her land lords thought that she would be of interest to their secretive sex club. She started to remove the bra but I stopped her.

"Leave them on. The jeans too."

"Let's do this in the shower stall, I don't wanna mess up the house," Aly said.

I followed her to the shower with the bowl of simulated man juice in my hands doing my best not to sway from the affects of two consecutive shots of tequila on top of the glasses of wine I had with dinner. In the bathroom, we kissed again. After the kiss I undress.

"Why, pray tell are you getting naked?" Aly asked.

"In the porn movies, the guys are always naked when they come on the chicks," I said trying to sound practical. 

"They have dicks too. You gonna grow one?" Aly asked. "You ever noticed that the guys in porno film have no body hair whatsoever?" As I stupidly tried to undressed one handed, Aly rolled her eyes. "Give me the bowl before you drop it." She took the bowl and I finish undressing. 

"Get on your knees, suck my dick baby," I demanded as I took charge of the bowl again. 

She dropped to her knees in the crowded shower stall and I yelped in surprise when she buried her face in my crotch aggressively seeking out my wet center with tongue and teeth.

"Oh yeah ... do it baby ... Make me come." I said doing my best porno dialog. It didn't take long for me to get serious though. Aly's hands slid behind me gripping both my ass cheeks. "Shit! Wow! Oh man!" I exclaimed as she had me on the edge. "Grab my tits!" I demanded. Her hands let go of my ass, zipped around and sought out my A-cups. "I'm gonna come!" I let her know. She pulled back and worked me with her right hand.

"Come on my tits hot mama!" she said.

He bra covered breasts were the most inviting sight in the universe. My own naked chest heaved from drunken excitement as I dipped two fingers into Aly's homemade jizz. With a violent flick of my wrist, I spattered a broken creamy line across her cleavage. The stupid little action turned me on to no end. I splattered her tits two more times. Then my orgasm hit. I gripped Aly's shoulder with my one free hand, clutched at the stupid bowl with the other, if not for the shower stall against my back, I'd be a quivering fetal heap near the drain. 




Naked Portraits Pt. 14



As I sucked in hitching deep breaths, I looked down into Aly's smug up turned face. A small smear of the concoction glistened on her chin. She leaned in and peppered kisses allover my pubic mound then aggressively pressed in to work my clitoris. I gripped the shower head with one hand and somehow manager not to drop the bowl of sweet jizz. Soon she had me just where she wanted me. She backed away and worked me with her right hand. 

She looked up at me and said in a husky voice, "Come on my face baby."

Whether she was playacting or really turned on, I couldn't say ... and like a guy about to bust a nut ... I really didn't care. All that mattered was the mindless arrival of my orgasm. When it hit, I dipped three fingers in the bowl and slapped the stuff at Aly's upturned face. An uneven oozing line went from her chin over her lips along the left side of her nose ending in a blob above her left eyebrow. She blinked and flinched but didn't say a word. Her silent and serious expression turned me even more. I splash her again hitting her left cheek and jaw line. Instinctively she turn her head aside. With building excitement, I flung a third rope at her mouth and chin. 

I was about to come.

"Do it to me!" I blurted out shoving the bowl of stuff at her. 

I dropped to my knees in the shower stall and took charge of my coming orgasm with my right hand. Aly stood above me with the bowl in her hands and my eyes rolled up to look at her. The sticky mess on her face and tits seemed so intensely fascinating. I let out a huge gasp and came. At the same moment, Aly loaded her fingers and sharply flung the stuff it at my upturned face. 

I flinched. 

She did it several times more.

I flinched each time.

Gasping and taking in harsh breathes, I stood up and pushed my way out of the shower stall to look in the bathroom mirror. My face was a mess of oozing lines. Several droplets and blobs peppered my slim chest. Aly stood behind me looking at my reflection too. She roughly grabbed a hand full of my long brown hair, tipped my head back and licked at a line of stuff on my right cheek and then tuned me to face her.

We kissed. 

The kiss was short and literally sweet. She brushed her face along my neck then knelt down on the floor and dragged her sticky face over my chest and belly then down to my patch of hair. Her sticky mouth found my clitoris and I had to lean my butt against the counter to keep from buckling. I came one more time gripping handfuls of Aly's messy, sticky blond hair.