“Could you imagine trying to do this all in one go?” asked Brenda Oliver, looking at her husband, Steve. “Some of these people look like the walking dead!” she whispered.
He snorted out a quiet laugh. “Don’t laugh! A week from now we leave and head back to civilization. By the time we get home, Bren, we’ll make these zombies look good!”
Brenda glanced at some of their fellow passengers and then gave her husband a theatrically elaborate shudder. “I think when we get to the hotel, I’m going to want to take a nap.”
Steve Oliver looked down at his wife and smiled. He was five-foot-ten, four inches taller than her. “That sounds interesting.”
She grinned and nudged him with her elbow. “I was talking about a nap, not a nap!” Her husband just gave an innocent look as a response, and she continued, “Well, maybe we can do both.” Then she looked around again, and added, “For some of these folks, that might be questionable.”
Steve looked around at their fellow passengers on the small inter-island ferry. “I don’t think it’ll be that bad for everybody. Sure, some of these people have been on the go for a day or two, but most are probably from here in the islands. You can put us in that category, too. For them it’s just been a ferry boat ride. They didn’t spend a day or two flying in.”
“We did that two weeks ago,” she agreed. “How much longer, do you think,” asked Brenda, looking towards the bow and wondering when they would see their destination.
Her husband followed her gaze, but then glanced at his watch. “Probably another hour, maybe a bit more. According to the ticket agent, the weather was supposed to be good and the trip normal. It’s quarter after eleven, and we are supposed to dock about half past noon. From there we can get to the hotel, check in, and then you can have that nap you are looking forward to.”
“Just remember, that’s a nap, and not a nap!”
“We’ll see,” he replied with a chuckle.
Brenda Oliver smiled at that and just shook her head in amusement. She still couldn’t believe that they had been able to take three weeks in the South Pacific, and it was all work related. Steve was a Professor of Botany at Empire State University, just outside Albany, New York, and had managed to arrange a working vacation in the Maltesano Islands for the summer. She figured he was about the smartest guy she had ever known, and that intelligence was proved when he invited her along for the trip.
She remembered sitting in the kitchen with Steve at home and asking, “Exactly how did you manage to snag this trip?”
“Snag? More like I’m the guy who got picked last for the team. Everybody else managed to get research slots in Hawaii or the Caribbean, or someplace a hell of a lot closer than the Maltesanos! I’m the junior guy, so I get to fly halfway around the world. I think the only place more remote is the South Pole.”
“Well, it still sounds like fun, and we get to take a vacation without the kids!”
He had rolled his eyes at that. “Yeah, you’ll get to drink and dance on the bar in your string bikini while doing Jell-O shots, just like in college.”
“Steve!” she had protested, swatting at his arm.
Their sixteen-year-old daughter, Heather, had just entered the kitchen where her parents were talking. She yelled, “GROSS!” at that, and then stormed out of the room.
“It’ll be quieter, that’s for sure,” was his comment.
Ever since the trip had been announced, Heather and her fifteen-year-old brother, Steve Junior, had been going through a major fit of pique. They wanted to go with their parents but didn’t want to have to be away from their friends for three weeks or have to hang around grown-ups for three weeks. They also didn’t want to have Brenda’s parents stay with them for three weeks. More than anything, though, they just didn’t like the idea that their parents could be doing something they wouldn’t be allowed to do.
That had been a function of pure economics, however. The trip was the result of a large grant for the purpose of studying biodiversity, which covered Doctor Oliver’s travel, accommodations, meals, and work-related expenses. He had to cover his wife’s expenses, but that was something they could handle. Adding a pair of children, both of whom would demand their own rooms, would be prohibitive. As a result, both Steve Junior, and especially Heather, would spend the summer sulking and throwing a snit. Neither parent was overly concerned with the permanent psychological damage their children were claiming because of the exclusion.
For the last two weeks, the Olivers had been traveling around the Maltesano Islands. The grant had provided the funds for a large Land Rover, which not only carried their luggage, but also the supplies Steve had needed for his work collecting samples and sending them home for further study. The trip was for three weeks, and Steve had arranged for the Land Rover and supplies to be waiting for them at the Maltesano airport when they landed. Now they were on the last leg of their trip, the ferry ride to Haka Nuva, the most distant island in the chain. They would finish collecting samples and then enjoy the remaining time as a vacation before heading back home.
The reason for the zombie-like expressions on the faces of some of their fellow passengers was due to the long and convoluted path to get to the Maltesanos. As Steve Oliver had mentioned, it truly was one of those places ‘you can’t get to from here!’ From Albany, they had flown across the country to Los Angeles, stopping in Chicago on the way, but that was just the first step. They spent a night in Los Angeles, but the next morning they flew to Papeete in Tahiti. At least that had been on a jet, but after that it was all turboprops. From Papeete they flew to Hiva Oa in the Marquesas, then continued on from Hiva Oa to Nuku Hiva, also in the Marquesas, and from there onward to Maltesano. That had been over fifteen hours of flying, not including the eight-hour trip from Albany to LA, and it didn’t include the time they had to wait around for layovers or collecting luggage in airports that didn’t have a decent luggage transfer system. It had taken them almost a full day to make it to Maltesano from Los Angeles.
It wasn’t hard to figure out that the zombies were the people who had just flown in and then hustled directly to the ferry terminal. They were the ones still wearing their welcome leis of brightly colored flowers, which they had received at the Maltesano airport upon arrival.
One thing Brenda noticed was that most people on the ferry were simply passengers. The Maltesano Star wasn’t all that large, and the vehicle traffic was light. She had commented on it to one of the ship’s workers and it had been explained that several small freighters and container ships moved among the islands, and westward to the larger island chains, and brought in most of the cargo for the islands. Haka Nuva itself was so small that most visitors simply stayed in the town that shared the island’s name, where everything was in easy walking distance. She was assured there was a decent taxi and bus service around the little island.
“You hungry?” Brenda asked her husband.
“A bit. We probably should grab something now. By the time we dock and get to the hotel and checked in, it’ll probably be another couple of hours,” he answered.
“When we get to the hotel, I am taking a nap! I am beat!”
Brenda led the way across the passenger deck to the small refreshment counter. Meals weren’t served, but you could get coffee or soft drinks, and pre-made subs and sandwiches. Steve eyed his wife appreciatively as she moved in front of him. While she hadn’t been doing Jell-O shots on the bar, without the kids around she had been definitely more relaxed. At thirty-nine, a year younger than her husband, Brenda Oliver retained the looks that had first attracted his eye back when they were in college. He suspected her reddish-brown hair now needed some help from the beauty parlor, but two children and two decades had not hurt her hourglass figure. She also still retained a certain lustiness that made him think their nap would probably become a nap at some point.
They weren’t the only people heading for the lunch counter. Following them was a young couple, both wearing leis, and as they got closer Brenda noticed that the woman was pregnant. “Here, you go ahead of us.”
“Thank you, but that’s alright,” was the response, in an Australian accent.
“You sure? I’m sure it’s been a long day.”
The young woman, a short and slender blonde with short hair and brown eyes, shook her head. “I’m fine, really.”
“Do you want to sit down?” asked her husband, a medium height and slender blond. His accent also said he was an Aussie.
“Bob, I’m pregnant, not broken. Besides, I have been sitting for two days! I can stand for a bit.”
“How far along are you?” asked Brenda.
“I just hit six months. As Bob says, I’m two-thirds of the way through.”
Brenda snorted and rolled her eyes. “Trust me, it doesn’t work like that! I’m Brenda, by the way, Brenda Oliver, and this is my husband, Steve.”
“Hi! I’m Liz Cramer and this is my husband Bob.” The small group shook hands as they moved towards the counter. “You sound like you’ve been through this yourself.”
“One of each. They’re in their teens now,” answered Brenda. She was thinking to herself that her children were only a few years younger than the young couple in front of her, and suddenly felt old.
“Two thirds?” commented Steve. “You’ve got eighteen years and three months until you can legally get rid of the little urchin.”
Bob laughed at that. “That bad, huh?”
“Just make sure that you let them know from an early age that at eighteen years and one day you are renting out their rooms to homeless serial killers, because you figure you’ll sleep better at night.”
Brenda said, “Steve! You’re awful!” To the Cramers she added, “That’s not true. He only tells them that we’re converting their rooms to closets, not that we are renting them out.”
Bob Cramer looked at his wife. “I’m starting to think that maybe one will be more than enough.”
Liz didn’t bat an eye. “That’s okay. I’m having twins.” As her husband’s eyes opened wide, she turned to the Olivers and smiled, and shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
“Boy or girl?” asked Brenda.
“A boy! We’re naming him after Bob.”
“Good luck with that,” commented Steve. “My brother is named David, after my father, and whenever somebody called out ‘David!’ the response was always ‘Which one?’ It used to drive my brother nuts.” The others all laughed at that.
First the Olivers and then the Cramers ordered their sandwiches and drinks, and then sat together at a small table. “Where are you staying?” asked Brenda.
“A place called the Haka Nuva Inn,” answered Bob.
“That’s the same place we’re staying at!” replied Brenda excitedly.
Steve added, “I don’t think you have much choice. When I was looking online, I only saw two hotels in the town.” He shrugged and made a ‘What can you do?’ expression.
A woman at the next table interrupted them. “Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but hear you. That’s actually true. There are really only two hotels or resorts on the island. You have the Haka Nuva on the east side of the lagoon, and the Leilani Resort on the west side. Other than that, you would have to rent rooms in town.”
“You’ve been there before?” asked Brenda.
“Many times. Tully and I vacation here every year. We always stay at the Haka Nuva. I’m Barbara, by the way, but everybody calls me Babs.”
“G’day, mates. Stoked to meet ya’,” said the man Babs was seated with. He spoke with a very heavy Aussie accent. Both Babs and Tully wore leis, too.
“Pleased to meet you,” replied Bob Cramer, reaching over to shake hands. “Bob Cramer.”
The rest of the group introduced themselves. Tully and Babs were different from the others in that they were considerably older than the rest of the group. Tully Winston looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties, and was a large and heavyset man, darkly tanned, bald except for a short fringe of white hair around his head, and several inches over six feet in height. Babs, however, looked to be several years younger than her husband, with frosted blonde hair in a shoulder-length perm, and was also darkly tanned. In addition, while she was heavier than the other two women, she still had a good shape, and Steve suspected she was braless under her blouse.
Steve said to Babs, “You sound American, unlike the Aussies here. That’s the right term, right? Aussie?”
Babs smiled. “I’m American, sort of, I suppose. I’ve been over here almost forty years now, but I suppose I still sound American. Tully’s an Aussie, though.”
Bob gave an affronted snort and looked over at Tully. “Bloody Yanks! Think we’re all alike!” Tully laughed at that, and Bob turned to face the Olivers. “He’s an Aussie, but Liz and I are Kiwis! And it’s pronounced Ozzie, not Aussie.”
Steve realized he had committed some sort of faux pas, but doubted it was serious. “Kiwi, that means you’re from New Zealand, right?”
“We’re from Christchurch,” answered Liz, smiling. “Ignore them. If you get them going they’ll spend the next week arguing about rugby, cricket, and beer.”
Babs added, “Then one of them will call the other one a sheepshagger and then they'd have one
hell of a blue! No thank you!”
Steve gave the others a confused look. “What’s a sheepshagger? No, don’t answer! I’ll google it later.”
The small group continued talking until the loudspeaker announced they would be docking in ten minutes, and that all drivers needed to return to their vehicles. Steve and Brenda stood up. “That’s our cue, I believe,” he said.
“How are you guys getting to the hotel?” asked Brenda of the others.
“You have a car?” asked Babs.
Brenda nodded. “We have a Land Rover, but our stuff is already in the back. We might be able to carry two more people, but I really don’t think we can carry all six of us.” She gave them an apologetic look.
Babs waved it off. “It’s not that big a deal. Haka Nuva is small, and the Inn is within walking distance if we needed to do that. Luggage would be a pain, though. Don’t worry. They have a shuttle bus from the dock into town and the resorts. I’m sure it will be waiting when we get there.”
“Bugger it. Take the kiddlywinks here, though, if you can. The lovely sheila here is preggers. Us wrinklies can make it on our own,” added Tully.
Steve blinked at that, not really understanding the Australian slang, especially with Tully’s accent. It seemed that George Bernard Shaw’s comment about England and America being two countries separated by the same language also applied to Australia. He took it to mean that they should give a lift to the Cramers, if they could. “That works for us.” He turned to Bob and Liz. “Let’s find your luggage and load up.”
“Are you sure? We don’t want to cause any trouble,” protested Liz.
“Two more people we can carry. Four would be a problem. I mean, unless you have a dozen suitcases…”
“No, nothing like that.” The Cramers stood up.
So did the Winstons. “I am sure we’ll see you at the Inn,” said Babs. “When you get off the boat you’ll be on Haka Nuva Road. Just turn right. You can’t miss it. It’s only about a mile or so down the road, if that.”
“I’ll do the first shout in the pub,” added Tully.
“Okay,” agreed Steve. As soon as they got out of earshot of the Winstons, he asked, “What in the world is a shout?”
Liz Cramer answered, “He said he’d buy the first round.”
“Oh.” Steve smiled at his wife. “It would seem that American English and Australian English are two different languages.”
“Could you imagine Babs trying to figure it out when she was still dating Tully?” laughed Brenda.
“Maybe they were speaking a different language,” replied her husband, waggling his eyebrows.
Brenda blushed and grinned, nodding agreement.
The Olivers and the Cramers managed to get their luggage stowed just in time for the ferry to dock. As they drove off the boat they noticed a small line of people getting onto a couple of small shuttle buses, and the Winstons waved at them and they waved back. They also noticed another white Land Rover following them off the ferry, but this one was pulling an equipment trailer. It stopped on the dock and a young woman climbed out and looked around. Then their attention turned back to the road, and the drive to the resort.
“Keanu, I have to go!” protested the pretty young woman.
“Alamea, I think you should stay right where you are!” answered the young man she was with.
Both of them were laying on a small bed in a room just off the lobby of the Haka Nuva Inn, dressed in pretty much the same clothing they had come into the world with.
Alamea replied, “The ferry sounded the horn. You might not have been paying attention, but I heard it over all the noise you were making.”
“You were the one causing me to make that noise.” Keanu reached over and began stroking his hand along the girl’s side. “Besides, Leani is out there.”
She laughed. “If I heard it, you obviously were failing to distract me! Anyway, both Leani and I will need to work the check-in. After that, she’ll get the next break.”
“Maybe I should come back then.”
“Maybe she has her own friends. Besides, you’re not as young as you used to be. What makes you think you’d be up for a rematch?”
“Oh, that is so cruel, cousin!” Keanu used the word hoahana, which in the local dialect meant a familial relation that was probably more distant than a parent’s sibling’s offspring. Most island residents were somehow related to each other, and nobody was overly particular about specific genetic linkages. For all either of them knew, they actually were cousins. Not that it really mattered all that much to them.
She laughed some more and rolled upright. She glanced at the clock, and grabbed her clothing, a halter-topped knee-length sundress in a flowered print and slipped it on. It was all she normally wore, and her lack of underwear simply made it that much simpler when she and a friend took advantage of the little room off the lobby. She slipped into a pair of sandals, and laughed, saying, “Keanu, it’s not my fault that you’re just not very distracting. Now, out! I need to get back to work!”
“Maybe I’ll just have to drop by later to see just how distracted I can make you.”
“We’ll see. Maybe you need to practice first with your sister, E’lani and work your way up to it.”
“Cruel, so cruel!” Keanu climbed out of the bed and gave Alamea a quick kiss, then grabbed for his own clothing as she headed out to the front desk of the resort. He shook his head in amusement. E’lani would never go for that; brother and sister were a little too close for comfort even considering the very relaxed sexual mores of the island. Cousins, sure; siblings, probably not. He dressed and slipped out the side, to return to his regular job in Maintenance.
Alamea made it to the front desk in time to see the white Land Rover pull up. Leani asked, “Good break?”
“Not bad. Keanu wanted to know if you needed some help your next break.”
Leani laughed. “I don’t think so. Joe is coming by, though, so I think I’ll get all the break I need.” She held her hands about a foot apart.
Alamea laughed. She clipped on her name tag, which had fallen off during the preliminaries with Keanu, and shook out her long, black hair. She also picked up the lovely pink flower that had been in her hair at one point and tucked it over her left ear. If the young woman had been hoping to look composed and professional, she was only partially successful. While he didn’t say anything, the first thing Steve Oliver thought when he saw the buxom young Polynesian woman wearing a form-fitting sundress, and he suspected, nothing else, was, ‘That girl looks like she just crawled out of the sack!’
“Welcome to the Haka Nuva Inn!” Alamea said brightly, smiling at the guests. “Checking in?”
Brenda looked at the Cramers and said, “You first.”
“No, you drove, we can wait,” replied Bob.
Steve rolled his eyes. To Alamea he smiled and said, “We’ll be here all day at this rate!” He pulled Brenda to the counter. “You check in. Bob and I will grab a couple of luggage carts and unload the Land Rover.”
Brenda smiled and nodded her head. “You go do your thing.” She pulled Liz up alongside her, and the two women began the process. Both were pleased that despite the remote location of the Maltesano Islands, modern technology and the Internet had not passed them by. By the time the two men had unloaded and parked the Land Rover, the Olivers were already checked in, and the Cramers were halfway through the process.
At that point, a gaily colored shuttle bus pulled up to the front of the Inn. “I think we got here at the right time,” commented Bob Cramer.
Alamea smiled and said, “That’s the regular shuttle from the ferry. Did you just come in on the ferry?”
“Yes, but we had our own vehicle,” answered Brenda. “Otherwise we’d have been on the shuttle, too.”
Alamea nodded. “If you want to go into town, take the shuttle. It’s very cheap and comes through regularly. Or walk; it’s not that far.”
Steve Oliver noticed that the people getting off the shuttle were wearing new leis, in addition to any they already had. The leis that the Cramers and Winstons had gotten at the airport on Maltesano were mostly yellow and white plumeria, mixed with one of the more common orchids, pink cymbidium. The new leis, however, were different, a darker pink-coral color, and the botanist couldn’t tell what it was without getting closer.
That opportunity came sooner than he expected. One of the first people off the bus was Babs Winston, wearing one of the new leis, and she had several more in her arms. When she saw the Cramers and Olivers in the lobby, she waved and came over. “I was hoping we would get here in time! You only get these when you walk off the boat, and you drove. I have your lava lava leis.”
“Lava lava?” asked Liz.
“It’s our signature flower,” commented Alamea. “You didn’t get one before? Here let me.” To the other people in the lobby, she said, “I’ll be with you in just a moment.” Alamea came around the counter and took a lei from Babs, and then turned to Liz. “Haka nuva loha!” she said brightly. “That means welcome to the island!”
Alamea continued with the other three in the group, with Babs handing her their leis. Steve Oliver enjoyed it; since he was tall and Alamea was short, when she reached up to put the lei around his neck, he needed to bend over, putting his face close to the very nice cleavage Alamea was displaying.
Steve lifted his lei up to look more closely at it. Like most leis, it had a twine base, which in this case was threaded through dark coral pink flowers. He couldn’t discern the species or genus of the plant, but he suspected it was of the Orchidaceae family, one of the innumerable orchids. This one had two long and vertical inner petals, with another pair of long and vertical petals outside of them. There were the expected other sepals and petals, but they were quite small and hidden behind the large inner and outer petals. Then at the top of the flower, just peeking out of the petals, was an almost blood red gynostemium and anther. The flower also had a pleasant scent, but one which seemed both familiar and intriguing, with a floral overtone. He had noticed it when they had docked, but it had seemed like a common island background scent. Now, it almost reminded him of…
Steve Oliver blinked and bolted upright. The lava lava flower looked and smelled just like a pussy! A florally scented pussy, but a pussy nevertheless! The botanist thought that would be an amusing conversation with his wife.
Steve’s musings were interrupted by Brenda nudging him from the side. “Ready?” she asked.
“To go up? I’ve got the keys. Grab the cart.” She turned to the Cramers and the Winstons. “If we don’t see you later, we’ll see you tomorrow.” She waved and led her husband towards the elevator.
“Do we need to hold it for anybody?” he asked.
She shook her head. “The Cramers are on the first floor and we’re on the second.” She pushed the UP button on the elevator, and the door slid open.
Two minutes later they were in their room. Steve looked around as he unloaded their luggage. It reminded him of a fairly simple Holiday Inn. It had a single king-size bed, with a table and a few chairs to one side, and a patio door leading to a small enclosed balcony. The bathroom had both a large shower and a small tub. He knew from when he reserved the room that the Haka Nuva Inn didn’t have suites, just rooms with either single king-size beds or two queen-size beds. It took so long to get to Haka Nuva that anything fancier was, economically speaking, a waste. No matter how great the beaches were, it would never become a tourist mecca.
As soon as the luggage cart was empty, he told Brenda, “I’m taking this back down.”
“I’ll start unpacking,” she replied, kicking off her sneakers.
Steve took the luggage cart back to the elevators but didn’t need to go any further. A young couple was getting off with a load of their own luggage, not on a cart, and took it off his hands. He went back to the room and helped his wife unpacking and settling in.
Brenda finally grabbed her oversized toilet kit and said, “I need to take a shower.”
“Okay by me. I’ve already heard complaints from the local version of the EPA.”
She flipped him off. “Very funny. You’re no prize either, you know.” Steve laughed at that. Brenda sniffed her lei. “This is a lovely scent, but it seems familiar.” She gave it another deep sniff.
Steve smiled. “It’s a favorite, that’s for sure.” He wondered if Brenda had noticed the resemblance of the lava lava plant to her own anatomy yet.
Brenda went into the bathroom and took the lei off, hanging it on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. Then she stripped off her travel clothing - cargo shorts, t-shirt, white footie socks, and plain white bra and panties - which she dropped on the bathroom floor. In the enclosed space of the bathroom, the perfume from the flowers seemed especially intense. She sniffed it again, then turned the water on in the shower and grabbed her shampoo.
The warm water running over her body felt surprisingly invigorating to Brenda. The Olivers had gotten up much earlier than normal in order to catch the six o’clock ferry, and Brenda normally had a problem sleeping in a moving vehicle. She had been looking forward to a quick shower followed by a long nap. Now, however, she seemed stimulated to maybe take that nap her husband had teased her about. She debated touching herself in the shower more intimately but decided against it. She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. If anything, the warmth and humidity of the shower accentuated the floral scent even more.
Brenda toweled off slowly and looked at herself in the mirror as she did so. She was relatively pleased with what she saw. At thirty-nine it was twenty years since she had first met her husband, and while she had put on a few pounds since then, she still thought she looked okay. She was about fifteen pounds heavier than her college days, but that seemed very reasonable compared to some of her college friends, some of whom had ballooned with childbirth. Likewise, her figure was now 35-24-34, not quite the 34-22-32 she had been able to flaunt in college, but still something to be proud of. Like many women, she thought her butt was too large, and she wished she was taller, with longer legs, but Steve never complained, and he still seemed to enjoy their marital relations.
Brenda almost giggled at that thought. Marital relations sounded so cold and clinical, like they went to bed and shook hands and negotiated their children into being. The reality was that Steve and Brenda had always enjoyed an active sex life, and Brenda was definitely multi-orgasmic. As she glanced in the mirror, she noticed that her nipples were puffy and stiff, and she felt that her pussy was also a bit puffy and moist. Maybe that nap could wait a bit.
Out in the bedroom, Steve finished unpacking and putting the empty luggage in the back of the closet, and then he undressed. He figured to take the next shower, so he put his own toilet kit on the dresser nearest the bathroom. Then he looked again at the lava lava flowers and was struck again by the similarity to a woman’s vagina, the labia minora, labia majora, and clitoris. He sniffed the flower and again noted the resemblance to the musk of a woman. His cock began stiffening, and Steve considered joining Brenda in the shower. Instead he lay down in the center of the bed. He didn’t even have to stroke himself to full erection; the thought of his beautiful wife joining him for some afternoon delight was sufficient all on its own to make his cock as stiff as a board.
Brenda left the bathroom, carrying her clothing and lei back to the bedroom. She grinned seeing her husband sprawled on the bed, his cock pointing at the ceiling. She tossed her clothing into the corner and dropped her lei onto the dresser. “This is what you call a nap?” she asked, laughing.
“Well, it involves a bed, anyway. That’s a start.”
Brenda rolled her eyes and came closer. “Well, we are married after all, and a wife is supposed to help her husband.” She sat down on the bed and curled the fingers of her right hand, and then began pumping it in the air. “This the kind of help you’re looking for?”
“Not hardly!” was the response. Steve reached over and grabbed her hand and tugged her down next to him.
Brenda giggled and stretched out on the bed alongside her husband. Any thoughts of a restful nap were long gone at that point. Her right hand reached down and grabbed his erect cock, and she gasped as his lips closed on her left nipple. “Oh, God, Steve! Oh, that feels good!”
Steve didn’t make a response, because his lips were busy elsewhere. He was switching back and forth between her nipples, even as his fingers were between his wife’s legs. Brenda was extremely turned on, and her pussy was a hot swamp of fragrant juices. In just moments, Brenda gasped, her hand clamping on his cockshaft, as she shuddered and moaned in the first orgasm of the afternoon.
A minute later, Brenda sighed and said, “That was a big one, baby.”
“My turn,” responded Steve. He put a hand on her back and began gently pushing her down his body.
Brenda giggled and began kissing her way down Steve’s chest towards his crotch. Her husband had also put on a few pounds since their college days, but he didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about, either. He weighed 185 pounds, fifty more than she did, and despite a small set of love handles, was still in pretty good shape. As her face got closer to the cock pulsing in her hand, she could see the thin stream of pre-cum leaking from his cockhead, and she could smell a heavy male musk which simply served to heighten her own pleasure. She kept kissing and licking her way down, and then aimed his cock at her lips and began to softly lick and nibble around the head.
Steve gasped happily, and began to thrust his hips upwards, trying to fuck his cock into her mouth. As Brenda moved around on the bed, her position had changed, and he could see her clean-shaved pussy facing him. It almost looked like her pussy lips were fluttering and pulsing with anticipation, and the color and fragrance was just like the lava lava flowers on their leis. Reaching out, he first touched her clit and lips, and then helped his wife into moving over him.
Once in the sixty-nine position, Brenda happily pushed her pussy down onto her husband’s face. Like most married couples, they didn’t sixty-nine often, and usually did it only as foreplay prior to conventional sex, but it was still enjoyable. That afternoon, however, something seemed extra special and extra enjoyable, and Brenda ground her cunt down into Steve’s face as he licked her pussy out. Meanwhile, Steve’s cock was almost throbbing between her lips, and his hips were thrusting madly upwards, demanding satisfaction, and she began a soft suction as she ran her fingers up and down the inflamed cockshaft.
Steve was happily drowning from the flood of cunt juice pouring down onto his face. It seemed to Steve like Brenda was really working to get him to unload into her mouth, and not just as foreplay. Brenda was jerking him off as she sucked him, so he responded the most appropriate way possible. Angling his head down a touch, he began licking Brenda’s clit, and when he felt her shiver and squeal, he moved a touch more, and began sucking on her clit.
The result was electrifying! Even more cunt juice began flowing down onto Steve’s face as Brenda moaned loudly around his cock and then began suctioning his cockhead as she tried to inhale it. It quickly grew to the point of no return. As her right-hand fingers pumped his cockshaft, her left-hand fingers toyed with his ball sac. It proved too much for Steve Oliver. He groaned around his wife’s clit and his cock exploded, spewing his jism upwards into her sucking lips. Brenda happily gulped it down, even as she shuddered and shivered in her own orgasm. She swallowed all his cum, but then, as Steve stopped thrusting his hips upwards and began to sag down into the sheets, she continued sucking.
Steve couldn’t believe it! Not only had his wife sucked him to completion and swallowed it all, but now she was working him up for another round. Brenda continued to grind her cunt into his face, and pussy juice continued to drip down onto him. As soon as he felt revived enough, it was time to start something different. He used his hands to lift Brenda up off his face and move her down his body; she complied by crawling down his torso and straddling his thighs. When she was positioned above his cock Brenda lowered herself onto his dick and sank down in a single smooth movement.
The effect on Steve Oliver’s cock was electrifying. Brenda’s pussy muscles were doing involuntary Kegel contractions as she bounced on him. Steve gasped in pleasure, and then reached out and snagged one of the pillows on the bed. He rubbed it across his face, wiping the girl cum off, and then flipped it over and slipped it under his head. That propped him up enough so that he could enjoy the sight of his wife’s perfectly shaped ass bouncing on his crotch. His cock seemed to shine wetly as her juices flowed down his shaft and onto his balls. Even better, he could see her little brown rosebud puckering open and close. He reached down to support and guide her butt cheeks as they rose up and down. The only thing his wife had ever refused him was when he wanted to put his cock into that rosebud, to ream her asshole and enjoy her rear fully. He rubbed her rear end in happy frustration, and even slipped a finger down the crack of her ass, caressing her sphincter with just the lightest of touches.
The result was more than either of them had ever experienced. Brenda gasped and slammed herself down on the cock in her pussy, burying it as her cunt contracted spasmodically about it. Despite his earlier cum, Steve began spewing again, his jism spurting in powerful jets up into her, even as she moaned in relief and pleasure.
Brenda remained in that position until her husband’s cock began to soften and slip out of her. Then she twisted and slid off and collapsed onto the bed next to him. She snuggled up against him, and their nap converted to a real nap.
Bob and Liz Cramer pushed their cart down the hallway and around the corner to their room. After unlocking their door and pushing the cart inside, they looked around. “I wish we had a room on the second floor,” Liz commented.
“Well, that way we could go out onto the balcony and it would be a bit more private,” she answered.
“More private?” Bob teased.
Liz blushed. She enjoyed making love al fresco style, and Bob tended to tease her about it on occasion. The latest joke was that when the baby was born they’d have to see if he preferred indoor sports or outdoor sports, and that would tell them where they had been when Liz had caught.
They unloaded the cart, tossing their bags on the bed, and then Bob took the cart back down the hall. He returned to find his wife coming out of the bathroom. “What’s next?” he asked.
“Want to go to the beach? Look around?”
“We can,” he agreed. However, rather than head towards the door, he moved over to the sliding glass door going out to the patio and stepped out onto it. “Honey, you should come out here,” he said, calling back inside the room.
Liz Cramer followed him outside. “What’s up…Oh!”
What they had both suspected was a ground-level patio was actually a balcony. Bob looked around and realized that the first-floor rooms, level to the ground on the roadway side, were actually a second-floor room on the ocean side. The ground dropped away towards the beach, so they actually had a private balcony after all.
“It’s gorgeous! Look!” exclaimed Liz, pointing down towards the beach and the Pacific Ocean gently rolling in.
Bob moved up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her. “You’ve got your privacy now, don’t you?”
Liz simply giggled at that and rubbed her rump back against him. “I’ve never heard you complain about being out on a balcony late at night.”
“It all depends on who I’m with on the balcony.” Bob looked down over his wife’s right shoulder. He might have been only five-foot-eight in height but compared to his wife he was a giant. Liz was barely five-one, and only weighed about a hundred pounds soaking wet. Still, as he looked down at his wife from behind, Bob noted that her A-cup breasts looked larger on her slender frame than would normally be expected. She was wearing a low-cut tank top, and she didn’t need a bra. Now, with her rubbing against him, and the heady scent of the lava lava lei assaulting his senses, He began responding. His cock stiffening and pushing back into Liz’ rear, he slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt and moved them up to cup her breasts.
“Bob! People might see!” she protested, laughing.
He tweaked her nipples and said, “This from a woman who once gave me a blowjob in the trees of the fourteenth hole back home?” He played with her tits a bit more. “I think your boobs are getting a bit bigger?”
Liz moaned quietly. “Think so?”
“Pretty sure. I’ll probably need to keep testing, just to be sure.”
“I think you just like playing with my tits!” she replied, laughing.
“That’s true, I do like playing with your tits.” Then, while his right hand stayed under her shirt, he moved his left hand down, and slipped it into her shorts. “I also like playing with your pussy,” he whispered.
Liz moaned loudly as her husband touched her in her most intimate places. She could feel her pussy juice flooding down into her panties and onto his fingers. “Let’s go inside,” she gasped.
He laughed and continued to assault her tits and pussy. “Maybe I just want to do you right here!”
Liz gave another soft moan, but then pushed back and pushed her husband away. “No, inside!” She skipped out of his grasp and slipped inside the patio door, tossing her lei on the dresser and stripping off her tank top as she did so. “Besides, without four-inch heels, that just won’t be happening!” she laughed. She quickly skinned off her shorts and pants, kicking off her sneakers as she did so. She plopped down on the bed and positioned herself in the center, spreading her legs apart lewdly. “Well? Hurry up! You started this!”
“I never knew you were this demanding when I married you,” he said, laughing.
“Stop complaining! You got me started, so you need to finish me off!” she demanded.
“Work, work, work!” Bob mockingly complained, as he undressed. As soon as he was naked, with his erection pointing towards her, he crawled on the bed between her legs. “The things I do for the sake of marriage!”
“Wait, wait!” protested Liz suddenly. She grabbed a pillow and handed it to her husband. “Put it under my butt.” She lifted her rear up off the bed and helped Bob put the pillow there, lifting her up and angling her pelvis upward. Finally, satisfied she was ready, she spread her knees wide and said, “Now, back to work!”
Liz reached down between her legs and guided Bob’s cock inside her pussy lips. She was already so turned on that her pussy was as wet and slippery as possible. He pushed in slowly but surely and kept going until he was completely buried. “That what you had in mind?” he asked.
“Oh, God, you have no idea!” she exclaimed.
“Uh, you know, are we going to be able to keep, well, you know…I mean, if you keep getting…” He asked lamely, slowly beginning to pump into her.
She nodded up at him. “I looked up some positions on the Web. We can practice later. Right now, just shut up and fuck me!” She reached up, wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck, and pulled his face down.
Bob happily complied with his wife’s orders. Still, he kept his arms stiff even as he leaned his head down to kiss her. There was a third person in bed with them these days, evidenced by the baby bump currently between them, and he needed to keep his weight off her midsection. Over the last few months Liz had become sexually supercharged, much to Bob’s delight, and he wondered how things would change in the future.
Still, that was for the future to take care of, in the here and now, Liz was moaning passionately beneath him, and her arms and legs were wrapped around him, drawing him even closer in. Her pussy began to pulse and spasm, and the effect on her husband was profound. He began pistoning his cock in and out ever faster, and the sensations mounted. He didn’t even try to hold back, and when he couldn’t take any more, he slammed his cock in and exploded into her, as his back arched and his cum pumped into her cunt.
They gasped and panted in exhaustion as Bob collapsed, first onto Liz, and then after, as he slid off to her side. “Wow!” he muttered, as much to himself as to her.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “When can we do that again?”
Bob laughed. “Give me a bit, honey! I’m going to need some motivation before we do a repeat.”
She shifted and pulled the pillow out from under her butt. “Well, that’s one way to handle the wet spot, I suppose,” she commented, looking at the pillowcase, now wet with their combined juices. She tossed the pillow aside and rolled towards Bob. “Anything special you had in mind for motivation?”
Bob just laughed. “Yeah! A shower. It’s been a long day!”
Liz laughed along with him. She sat upright. “Last one to the shower has to be on the bottom next time.”
Bob laughed and sat upright. Either way worked as far as he was concerned. He followed along slightly slower, allowing Liz to beat him to the shower. “I won!” she crowed.
“Maybe so, but I get to pick the place and position,” he replied.
Liz grabbed for the shower knob. “Is that the way it works? Maybe I’ll let you win in the future.” She got the water adjusted, and then turned to face him. Standing on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ll have to give that some thought.” Then they stopped talking for a bit longer.
It turned out that four-inch heels weren’t really needed after all.
Tully and Babs Winston didn’t have anywhere near the luggage that most of their fellow travelers did, because they had planned ahead and used one of the little travel secrets that most people never knew about. It was possible to arrange with a hotel and have your luggage shipped ahead! Not every hotel did this, and you had to make the arrangements ahead of time, but a surprising number of high-end hotels and resorts would let you ship packages to and from home. While the Haka Nuva Inn wasn’t what most people would consider a high-end resort, the Winstons had been there many times in the past and the management knew not to mess with a repeat customer. The other thing you had to do was plan ahead, and ship the luggage early, and then be prepared in case it arrived late, or didn’t arrive at all.
That meant they had shipped a large carton of clothing several days before, making sure that it would arrive a day early. They also brought with them a single carry-on bag, with the bare minimums of a single change of clothing and their toilet kits. If there were a problem with the shipment, they would at least be able to survive to pick up some clothing. Likewise, for the trip home, they would pack up everything, including any purchases, and ship it home. If it arrived after they did, it wasn’t a problem.
Babs happily breathed in the scent of the lava lava flowers as she led her husband down the second-floor hallway to their room. At check-in, they had been assured that their package had arrived, and had already been put into their room. They would simply need to unpack when they got there. Tully followed her, also breathing in the rich and heady fragrance, pulling their carry-on, and eyeing his wife’s figure appreciatively. Although Babs was his age, she looked ten years younger, and while she complained that she needed to lose weight, her measurements were 38-30-39, and was tight and toned. The scent of the lava lava flowers reminded him of a different scent, and they had been on airplanes and ferries much too long for his taste. He could feel himself stiffening and smiled as his wife’s rear moved in a pleasant figure-eight motion under her travel skirt.
Babs used the key card on the door and pushed it open. “Home, sweet home! Or at least for the next week,” she announced. Walking in, she noted their large corrugated cardboard carton on the luggage stand. “It looks like we’ll have some clean clothes after all.” She kicked off her sandals and wiggled her toes on the carpet.
“Clothing is overrated,” he replied, smiling.
She smiled back. “Well, we are on vacation.” She reached into her handbag and began looking for something to cut the packing tape with; that was the downside to the security regulations at the airports, anything that could open their package was banned.
Tully came up behind his wife and tugged her away from the package. “That can wait a bit, love. I think I want a good root first.”
“Oh, you do, do you? Well, I think I you are going to have to pay for it first!” she replied. Then she stuck her tongue out and moved it in a licking motion.
“Bugger! Oh well, a bloke has to do what a bloke has to do!” Tully pushed Babs backwards until she was at the bed, and then she sat down on the edge. Babs pulled the hem of her skirt to her waist, and Tully dropped down to his knees. He knew what he would find, since Babs almost never wore knickers, even when traveling, and her twat was shaved as smooth as a sprog’s bottom. Her pink gash opened up invitingly, and Tully moved in for some afternoon dining.
Babs gasped as her husband began to nibble on her pussy lips. She had known that they would be screwing shortly after they got to the hotel room but hadn’t been sure whether it would be before or after a quick shower. Although she and Tully had been married thirty-five years, neither of them had been virgins when they met, and she’d had a number of lovers before then. She was eternally thankful that her husband liked to eat pussy and was very good at it. He once told her that he would be sending her messages in Morse code - a lick up and down was a dot, and a lick side to side was a dash - and wanted to know if she was getting the proper message. After the first few messages, none of which she could decipher, she just asked him to resend the message. Eventually his tongue would tire out and he would use a different muscle on her.
Tully started with the message ‘F-U-C-K-Y-O-U-R-C-U-N-T’ but then just began to lick and suck on her clit. Meanwhile, he undid his pants and shucked them down to his knees. Babs was very happy about being eaten out, and her ass was squirming all over the bed, and she was moaning and whimpering loudly. Her slash was wet and juicy by the time he finished, and he stood up. His cock was stiff and aimed at her. He noticed that Babs hadn’t just laid there, either. She had unbuttoned her blouse, and her naked breasts proudly jutted upwards, firm and tan. She reached down and spread her lips and sighed happily as he pushed his fatty inside her.
“Fuck me, fuck me!” she demanded. Tully’s cock wasn’t the longest she had ever taken, being fairly average in length, but it was the widest. It stretched her pleasantly as he pushed in and bottomed out. Her husband pounded his cock into her, while she came repeatedly, and then he stopped, slumping down on her as his balls pumped out a load.
Tully rolled off her, onto his back. “Welcome to the Haka Nuva Inn. We hope you have a pleasant vacation.”
Babs laughed loudly at that. “You horny old goat!”
“Who’s calling who horny?” he retorted. “I’m not the one running all over the South Pacific commando style.”
Babs rolled her eyes at that and looked down the length of her husband’s body as he sprawled on the bed. She saw his trousers, but nothing else. “Really? Did the underwear fairies steal your underpants?”
He just smiled. “I left them at home. I knew just what sort of sheila I was marrying back then.”
That made Babs laugh even more. She rolled over and sat upright. “Well, I need to take a shower. If you behave, I’ll give you a shave later.” Tully didn’t respond, but he did smile. He pulled his pants back up and made himself comfortable on the bed. By the time Babs had the carton open, he was snoring.
The dresser had three drawers, and she claimed the top one. She emptied the carton and put everything away, and then did the same with their overnight carry-on. The luggage was put in the back of the closet, and the carton was put in the corner of the room. She stripped off her blouse and skirt and took her toilet kit into the bathroom. Thirty minutes later she was back in the bedroom, after taking a leisurely shower and primping a little. She hung the towel on a hook and wandered back to the bedroom naked. Tully was still snoring.
Babs smiled at him. It had been a long trip, and they were both tired. It took almost an entire day to travel to Haka Nuva from their home outside of Sydney, longer even if you counted the six-hour ferry ride. There had been some trips where they had gone to bed and simply fallen asleep before either of them had been able to get frisky. She pulled open her dresser drawer and looked around for something to wear. That was relatively simple. Except when she was at work, Babs almost never wore underwear, neither bras nor panties, unless she was using them to turn her husband on. She had several sets of crotchless panties and half-cup bras, but they were at home. For work she would wear plain white underwear and blouses and slacks, but as soon as she got home, she would change; the undies would go in the hamper and she would put a dress on, or maybe a blouse and skirt. For the rest of the afternoon, a short silk robe would be perfect. She crawled onto the bed next to Tully for her own nap.
Several hours later Babs stirred awake as she felt the bed move. She opened her eyes to see Tully climbing off the bed and heading for the bathroom. She wiped her eyes and sat upright, and then retied her robe closed. When her husband came back, she asked, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, luv.”
“What do you want to do for dinner?” she asked.
Tully simply shrugged. “Honestly?” She nodded. “Not much. I was thinking of goin’ back to sleep for a bit, maybe grabbin’ something later.”
Babs nodded again. She really wasn’t all that hungry either. “Sounds fine by me. Feeling up for that shave?” she asked, grinning.
Tully’s eyes widened, but he returned his wife’s smile. “I suppose I’m up for it.”
“You will be when I’m done, anyway,” she quipped. Babs got off the bed. “Give me a minute and I’ll take care of that for you. Get ready.” Babs grabbed her toilet kit and headed for the bathroom.
Babs used the bathroom, and then opened her toilet kit. She found a razor and the other items she would need, and then took a washcloth and put it under the hot water in the sink. She squeezed out most of the water, but not all, and then returned to the bedroom. She found her husband lying naked on the bed, and his cock was lying thick between his widespread legs, slowly engorging but not yet erect.
“I do like seeing you like this,” she admitted.
“It’s a mutual thing,” he replied.
Babs smiled at that. She dropped the wet washcloth on his crotch and placed the shaving supplies on the bed, and then stripped off her robe and tossed it aside. “Better?”
Smiling at the compliment, Babs used the washcloth to wet down Tully’s crotch. His cock continued to stiffen. Despite being sixty years old and having already cum just a few hours before, Tully definitely appreciated the attention. Babs used her left hand to begin stroking him gently, hastening the process. Then, with her right hand, she popped the cap off the sensitive-skin shave gel and squirted some onto his cock. She continued to massage the gel in as it foamed up, and in short order it was stiff and erect. As she continued to hold it erect and gently played with it, she took a personal grooming razor and ran it along the shaft. She then wiped the razor off on the washcloth. Next, she ran some more gel across Tully’s balls and shaved them.
By the time she finished shaving him, Tully was moaning quietly as he lay back on the bed, squirming as Babs massaged his cock and balls. She finished by wiping his cock clean, and then squirting some of her body lotion on her hands and began softly massaging his clean-shaved cock and balls. “There, baby, now you are nice and clean. I love it when you are clean. It makes me want to suck and lick your cock. It makes me want to play with your nuts. Has anybody ever asked you at the gym why your cock is shaved? Do you tell them it’s so your wife doesn’t get hair in her teeth?” She continued to play with his cock while talking to him about how she enjoyed the clean-shaven look.
Finally, it became too much. With a loud groan, Tully popped his cork, spewing his cum up into the air. It landed on his stomach as Babs pumped him dry. Once he was finished, Babs used the washcloth to wipe his stomach clean. She leaned down and kissed his cockhead, and then took the toiletry supplies back to the bathroom. When she returned to the bedroom, her husband was snoring again. Babs laughed quietly and put her robe back on, and then stretched out next to him for another nap. When they woke, they’d get some dinner.
Bethany Maddox slowly pulled the white Land Rover off the ferry and onto the dock. She had noticed a similar Land Rover earlier, but that one hadn’t been pulling a trailer loaded with equipment and supplies. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she knew she was supposed to be met by somebody at the dock, so she pulled over to the side once she was off the boat and out of the loading/unloading lane. Then she got out and looked around.
Haka Nuva seemed small and quiet to her eyes, but it also seemed relatively civilized. To her, that meant it had electricity and running water. In itself that made this one of the better archeological digs she had worked on. The roads also were paved, at least in the town, though she wouldn’t know about anything else until she got into the countryside. She had downloaded a map from Google and had satellite imagery in case she had to go it alone, but that could be chancy at best on some digs.
One of the locals was supposed to meet her and guide her to the site, but again that could be iffy. The best case would involve a member of the dig team, who spoke decent English and could drive or navigate them directly to the site. The worst case might involve none of that, a skeezy local who spoke broken English at best and wasn’t particular about when or where he took the foreigner. In some parts of the world archeology was simply not possible, because the locals would use foreigners and academics as hostages in the local conflicts. Much of the Middle East had been effectively shut down for years because of that.
She noticed a large and handsome man coming towards her and she turned to face him. “Doctor Maddox?” he asked.
The greeting committee had arrived, she decided. “That’s me,” she replied.
A grin split his face, revealing blinding white teeth in the darkly tanned skin. “Excellent! I was hoping you had made it on time.” Bethany noticed he spoke perfect English, without a trace of an accent. “Welcome to Haka Nuva. We are very glad you made it.”
The newcomer was carrying a dark red lei, and he stopped in front of her. He held it up, put it over her head, and dropped it down around her neck. “Haka Nuva loha!” he said. “That means welcome to Haka Nuva in Haka Lelo, the language of the Maltesanos. I am Maohinui Smith. I’m one of the other leaders on the dig and I came down to greet you and help you get to the site,” he told her.
“Well, thank you very much.” She sniffed the flowers and felt something she hadn’t felt in several months, an almost visceral stirring in her libido. “These are lovely! Do you give flowers to everybody who comes here?”
“Just the pretty ones,” he said, winking. Then he smiled. “Actually, just about any newcomers on the ferry get them, at least if they walk off the boat. You drove, so I simply stole one from the stand for you. Loha!”
At the mention of being pretty, Bethany blushed. Mao-whatever-his-name-was Smith was a very handsome man. He was maybe a couple of inches taller than her five-foot-six, but looked very rugged and strong, with a broad chest and was very muscular. He was darkly tanned and looked very much the Polynesian native. He wore cargo shorts, a short-sleeved denim shirt, and sturdy hiking shoes. In that they were dressed similarly, though she was wearing khaki pants and not shorts.
“Loha? Is that like aloha?” she asked.
“Very much so. Haka Lelo is very similar to Hawaiian, which isn’t much of a surprise considering that as best we can tell the islands were settled from Hawaii. That was the first wave, anyway. A second wave moved in later from the Tahiti region. Since then, the language has deviated and differentiated some. If you can speak Hawaiian, you can probably figure out Haka Lelo,” he explained.
She smiled at that. “Too bad I can’t speak Hawaiian. I gather you are here to take me to the dig? I have some maps and satellite images, but you can never be sure how useful they will be.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Considering the place is a tropical jungle, I wouldn’t trust them outside of town here. Still that’s what I’m here for. Maohinui Smith, trusty native guide, just like in the old Tarzan movies.”
She laughed at that. “Nice to meet you, Moe…”
“Mow-hin-ooey. Most people just call me Mao, like in Chairman Mao.”
“Mao, nice to meet you. I’m Bethany Maddox,” she put out her hand and he shook it. “Maohinui, does that have some special meaning in Haka…”
“Haka Lelo. Haka means island and Lelo means language. Haka Lelo simply means island language. It’s what is used throughout the islands, that and English. As for my name, Maohinui simply means ‘Big Polynesian.’ I think my parents were hoping for somebody a bit larger.” He made a hand motion several inches over his head.
“You look pretty big to me!” she laughed.
He waggled his eyebrows and made her blush. “It’s not completely wrong,” he said, grinning.
Bethany laughed. “That’s more information than I need to know!” she protested.
He nodded and smiled. “Maybe so. Are you all packed and ready? Do we need to stop in town for anything, or do you need to use the facilities? Once we get going, it’s a good hour’s drive to the other side of the island.”
“Do I follow you?”
He shook his head. “I had somebody drop me off in town the other night. I had a decent meal and stayed the night.”
Bethany wondered to herself where he had stayed - and with whom. “You want to drive?”
He shook his head. “Better if you drive. You’ll learn the roads faster that way. Don’t worry, the roads are decent enough.”
She nodded and led the way back to the Land Rover. Mao followed with a small rucksack, his overnight pack, which he tossed into the back of the Land Rover. “This is a pretty simple island to drive around on. This is Haka Nuva Road, which is pretty much the main road. Turn right and a few hours later you are pulling back into town over there, on the left. Haka Nuva Road circles the island. Don’t go too fast though. Once you get out of town, the asphalt stops and you’re driving on crushed stone.”
“And the site?”
“Turn right. We’re basically on the other side of the island.” She nodded in understanding and started up the Land Rover. A few minutes later they had left the town and were rolling along on the crushed stone ‘highway.’ Still, she thought the road was in better shape than could be expected at a lot of dig sites; she’d have to see about conditions when they left the main road.
As they left town, Mao said, “I forgot to ask, but have you eaten anything? Did you get something on the ferry? I’ve got a few energy bars, but if you want a real meal, we’ll have to go back.”
“An energy bar would be good.”
He reached back for his bag and dug out a couple of energy bars and two bottles of water. “Jet lag going to get you?”
“No, I’m good there. I got to Maltesano a day ago and spent yesterday sorting the equipment and loading the trailer. I had a decent night’s sleep and catnapped on the ferry. I’m good to go,” she explained. He nodded in acknowledgement.
It took little over an hour to hit the side road they needed to turn off onto. Along the way, Mao gave her a brief history of the Maltesanos. The islands were quite possibly the most recently colonized place on the planet. The first settlers, from Hawaii, had only arrived about 1200 AD, with a second wave coming from Tahiti showing up barely a hundred years later. Most of the settlers stayed on Maltesano, the largest of the islands, but they spread from there. Curiously, Haka Nuva, the smallest and most geographically challenging of the islands, was in some ways the spiritual center, and was considered the capital of the islands, to the extent that the people had a capital.
“So, most of the Maltesanans…”
“We call ourselves Haka’po’e. It simply means People of the Islands.”
She nodded. “So even though most of the Haka’po’e live on Maltesano, the capital was here, at the other end of the island chain?” she questioned.
He nodded back at her. “That is the legend anyway. It’s not so much that there was a capital, but it was more of a spiritual center. Each of the islands had their own clans and tribes, and everybody tended to fight each other. Still, Haka Nuva was where they came to settle things afterwards.”
“And that’s why you are here, to help with figuring that out,” he finished.
“I’ll see what I can do to help,” she said, smiling back at him.
Once they left the main road, they turned and began climbing up into the mountains that formed the center of the island. The road wasn’t as good, being more rutted gravel and mud than smooth crushed stone, and the progress was slower. Still, ten minutes later Mao directed Bethany into a small camp laid out in a clearing in the jungle.
Once she shut off the engine, the heat and humidity became palpable. “Warm,” she remarked.
“I hope you brought some shorts. It’s pretty much a tropical jungle out here. You’ll get used to it. It’s better up here than lower, it’s cooler. Still, dress for hot and wet. It often rains, usually in the afternoon. With the normal wind patterns, we get more rain here on the northeast side of the island than in the main town, on the southwest side. Lots of bugs, though, so make sure you use bug spray or lotion.”
Bethany shrugged. “I did my doctoral work in the Yucatan. It was hot and humid there, too. I’ll cope.”
Mao nodded in understanding.
As she climbed out of the Land Rover, a small group of people came over from the nearby tents. Leading them was a man in his late thirties. “Mao, good work! You found her! Doctor Maddox, welcome to Haka Nuva!” he called out.
“Doctor Veracruz?” she asked.
“Call me Manolo,” he replied. “The trip in good?”
“Excellent. Doctor Smith here was very helpful and instructive.”
Mao smile and shook his head. “That’s Mister Smith. I’m still working on my doctorate. With any luck, what we do here will help with that.”
Bethany looked at Mao in surprise. Smith was in his mid-thirties, almost ten years older than the average grad student. She knew he was one of the three leaders of the expedition, with the formal leader being Doctor Veracruz, but in the paperwork which had said Smith was involved there hadn’t been any indication that Smith didn’t have his doctorate.
Veracruz interrupted her chain of thought. “Doctor Maddox, I don’t want to seem to be rushing things, but the afternoon rainstorm could start almost any time now, and today we are expecting a front to roll through, probably rain all afternoon and evening. If you don’t mind, we should unpack the trailer and get everything under cover.”
“Sure, whatever you say. Call me Beth, by the way.” She led the way over to the vehicle, followed closely by Manolo, Mao, and the others. She pointed out the various gear and equipment she had brought in, and Manolo gave quick orders to the group about what was to be done with it.
It was easy to figure out the pecking order on the dig. At the top was Doctor Veracruz, the team leader, a Venezuelan archeologist. After him came Mao Smith, which surprised her, since he didn’t have a doctorate, and his degrees were in history, not archeology. Both men were in their mid-to-late-thirties. After them came a small group of what she considered ‘the kids.’ These were the undergrads and grad students, some Maltesanan and some foreign, all looking to use the dig for some kind of academic purpose, undergrad credit or background for a dissertation. Finally, there was a small group of locals who acted as contract workers. Mao, as both a team leader and a Maltesanan himself, was the liaison with the locals.
In short order, the trailer and Land Rover were unloaded. She had brought in a mix of items, some scientific and some various staples and consumables. As the saying went, ‘many hands make light work.’ She only had time to grab one of her own bags before the trailer and vehicle were empty. Mao took her car keys and drove it and the trailer over to a parking area and unhooked the trailer; the Land Rover would become part of their small fleet of vehicles. Bethany’s personal bags were sent over to the nearby campsite, and the equipment and supplies were taken to the excavation site. She followed along behind Doctor Veracruz as he led the way to the campsite.
The archeologist was impressed by what she saw. The campsite was well laid out, with a number of large tents on platforms surrounding a central area, and with walkways made from old pallets keeping feet out of the mud. The central space featured a very large tarped-over tent that obviously served as the communal area. A couple of port-a-potties were off to one side, as was a trailer with a generator mounted on it. Rainwater was collected in some giant barrels, and a shower area was nearby. Several other tents were up at the dig site.
Bethany followed Veracruz over to the communal tent, which was more of a tarp than anything else. While it had sides, they were rolled up neatly, leaving screens surrounding them. It was neat and practical, considering the heat and humidity. She noticed that almost all the tents were rigged the same way. Veracruz sat down at one of the picnic tables in the main tent and motioned for Bethany to sit down also.
“You’ve been to dig sites before, so I am sure you know the routine. You, me, and Mao are the leaders. He actually represents the University of Maltesano, so he’s more than just our trusty native guide, as he likes to say. We each have a small personal tent. The locals, the contract workers, mostly live down in the village at the bottom of the road, drive up here in the morning, and go home at dark. The kids, they have their own tents, mostly four-person tents, boy tents and girl tents.” He pointed out to the different tents. “Who sleeps where, that is their business, not yours and mine. They’re all over the age of eighteen, so…” He smiled and shrugged.
“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” she replied, smiling back.
“Precisely. So, how much do you know about Haka Nuva and the Maltesanos?” he asked.
“Before this project, not much more than the name. It seems very nice. I was thinking as I drove out here, this is nowhere near the shithole that most dig sites are,” she answered frankly.
Mao responded to that, coming up behind her. “No, we’re actually quite civilized here.”
Bethany turned beet red. “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean…”
He waved her off. “Don’t worry, Doctor. If it wasn’t for the fact that my homeland is basically at the ass end of the world, this would be one of the premier resort areas on the planet. As it is, that very remoteness is what allows us to keep it from becoming overdeveloped. Tahiti, for instance, is nothing but a tourist trap these days. Here, we can try to control our growth.”
“Well, as I mentioned, everything I have seen, both here and on Maltesano, has been gorgeous, and everybody has been very helpful.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’ve been to Tahiti and off the islands?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, many times. While I grew up on Haka Hoku - that’s one of the smaller islands between here and Maltesano, I did two years of college on Maltesano and then two years at the University of Melbourne. Then I came home and taught school for a few years before going to Auckland for my masters’,” he replied.
Bethany nodded appreciatively; both Melbourne and Auckland had good reputations. The team was fortunate to have somebody that qualified as their ‘trusty native guide.’
Veracruz repeated his earlier question. “So, other than the name, what did you know about the islands and the project before you signed up.”
“Just enough to make me very curious. I mean, if you were to google the Maltesanos you don’t get much other than the place was settled about 1200 and some bland specifics about the islands and the weather. They certainly aren’t going to mention human sacrifice, for instance, and while I know that human sacrifice was relatively common in Polynesia, it never seemed to be as important to the societies as it was in, say, the Aztec or Mayan cultures. That’s where I did all my earlier work, and the entire culture is different,” she replied.
“That’s really why we reached out to you,” commented Mao. “Professor Veracruz was familiar with your work and suggested you might be interested. To be fair, even we aren’t sure just how much sacrifice was really involved.” Bethany gave the two men a questioning look.
Veracruz responded. “From the original settling of the islands until the time the first Westerners arrived, Haka Lelo, the local language, was verbal only. There was no written language, and all the history was passed down verbally. The Spanish discovered the place back in the late Sixteenth Century, though, and decided it was theirs. There really wasn’t much to steal from the natives, but the Inquisition got involved. The local religion was banned, including any sacrifices. On the plus side, they introduced writing, and all the old legends and history were written down.”
Mao continued, “That’s where things get a bit speculative. The histories were written down, but since so much of it was religious in nature, it was also banned. Many of the records were lost from that time. Eventually the Spanish left and more liberal nations took over, but things were lost.”
“More liberal nations?” she asked.
Mao nodded. “As the Spanish Empire declined, the British Empire was rising. In 1743 a British frigate showed up and decided that the Spanish should go home. They kicked out everybody, including the priests, and sent them back to Spain. They set up shop and the captain, now calling himself the governor, sent his first mate back to England with the news. London disavowed the whole thing and forced the captain to leave, which left a power vacuum. The French came in next. So, for the next couple of hundred years the islands flipped back and forth between the British and the French. I mean, it was bloodless. Nobody was actually doing any fighting, and sooner or later the Europeans would go native and become assimilated. You Americans are simply the latest.”
“Us?” she exclaimed in surprise.
He smiled and nodded his head. “America grabbed it during the Second World War, worried that the Japanese would grab it, but the Japanese never got near the place. The American navy built an airstrip on Maltesano, and that became our airport, and they built a small naval base as well. After the war, they gave us our independence, sort of. We’re a protectorate of sorts now, and the Coast Guard has a couple of patrol boats based on Maltesano.”
“Huh! What was the original religion like?” asked Bethany.
At that moment, it started to rain, and in just minutes it became a tropical downpour. Mao grinned and pointed upwards. “How very appropriate.” Bethany looked at him curiously. “Basically, the Sky Goddess, Kane’, met the Sea God, Kanalo, here on Haka Nuva, which was the only island at the time. They fell madly in love, but it was a very fiery and tempestuous love, so there were lots of storms. Anyway, like I said, they fell wildly in love, and as a result, Kane’ gave birth to the islands. I’ve read most of the written histories, and they were pretty graphic. Both gods had a grand old time here on Haka Nuva, and more than once. Kane’ gave birth to each island separately, so you can imagine there was an awful lot of something or other going on in Haka Nuva. Then, since they were still plenty horny, they continued fooling around, and Kane’ gave birth to the birds and the bees and the plants and the animals, and finally the people, the Haka’po’e.”
“Fascinating! Still, why here? Why not on the big island, Maltesano?” she asked. “That is to the west, and anybody who was colonizing these islands would have probably landed there first. This is one of the smaller islands.”
He nodded. “The archeological evidence is that they did land there first. I can’t answer why the gods said they started here.”
Veracruz said, “Now you can understand some of the interest we have. There are a lot of questions to be answered. Also, you can understand why the Inquisition tried to kill the religion. We basically had a polytheistic religion here that was, to put it bluntly, pornographic! And you’re right. This is one of the smaller islands, and the greatest distance from the main island. Why travel here to make their sacrifices? Hopefully, the equipment you brought in will be able to help.”
With that, he and Mao outlined their plans for the rest of the summer. They had already managed, with the assistance of the remaining historical manuscripts, to isolate the location of the main sacrificial site, which was where the archeological dig was at. What had once been a temple of sorts had been buried by the natives, lest it be profaned and destroyed by the Inquisition. It was large cave in the mountain, with additional walls built around the opening, and then all covered and concealed. Now they were preparing to open the temple up, but that involved finding the door, which required ground penetrating radar. They had one, but it had broken, and Bethany had brought in some parts for the repair. With luck, they might be able to find the door and open it by the end of the week.
The rain was drumming on the roof of the tent so loudly they were almost yelling at each other, though the breeze through the screen walls felt wonderful. Then Bethany noticed several of the kids emerging from their tents and heading towards a large tarp that was set up down the hillside a touch. What she really noticed was that they were stark naked, wearing only beach flip-flops, and were carrying their toilet kits. They moved to where the water was cascading off the tarp to the jungle floor, and took showers out in the open, using soap and shampoo. Then they headed off to the shower area. “What in the world?”
“It’s pretty informal up here. We get a lot of rain, and we collect it for showers and drinking water, but it’s never really enough. When we get a good downpour like this, most people take a long shower and then rinse off afterwards. We filter the water we collect,” explained Veracruz. “If you need a shower, feel free.”
“I’m good for the moment. Maybe later tonight,” she answered. Bethany thought she might take a shower much, much later. Wandering around a new dig site in her birthday suit was simply not going to happen!
The informality only lasted during the shower interlude. The kids began filtering back into the central tent dressed and covering their heads with ponchos, which promptly got hung on pegs near the door. The kids, most of whom were in their early twenties, sat down around the picnic tables and began talking to each other and to the leaders about the day’s work. Bethany was immediately struck with her own memories from that point in her academic career; she knew that she had learned far more around such tables at the dig sites she had earned her stripes on than she had ever learned in classrooms. She also pointedly ignored Veracruz and Smith when they stood up and went off to their tents and then strolled over to the shower tent starkers. Bethany twisted away so she didn’t have to see them, but she also noticed that more than a few of the girls watched - and smiled.
Dinner was a fish and vegetable meal prepared by the local contract workers in the kitchen unit attached to the communal tent. Then, while the rain continued to pour down, she continued to talk to the others, learning more about the Maltesanos and the local history. As always, she felt she learned as much from the kids as they learned from her. For instance, one of the young men had some background in geology, and he explained the formation of the islands. Much like Hawaii, the Maltesano chain had arisen from volcanic activity and subsequent coral growth. “That’s why the westernmost islands are the lowest and largest,” he had explained. “The volcanic activity was greater then and made for larger islands. Over time the islands eroded and settled, and new islands formed to the east, as tectonic movement moved the crust westward away from the magma hotspots. Haka Nuva is simply the newest island.”
“So, are we about to be part of the next Krakatoa?” she asked.
He smiled and shook his head. “The tectonic plate has moved. The hotspot is now slowly building a dome under the sea about fifty miles east of here. Give it another ten thousand years or so and you’ll be able to see it hit the surface.”
“I’ll put that in my calendar,” she replied, smiling back.
The rain continued through the night. While they had electricity, many of the luxuries from home were limited. There was no television. Haka Nuva had cell phone towers, but almost all the coverage was on the southern and western sides of the island, so phones were limited to a few expensive satellite phones. Likewise, they had a satellite internet link, but that was knocked out by the storm. By early evening, the camp residents began filtering back to their tents.
Bethany ran to her own tent using the path of wood pallets that kept her out of the mud but getting fairly wet in the process. Once in her tent she sorted out her clothing and made herself at home. Then she dug out a poncho and flip-flops and stripped down. She needed a shower, too. She grabbed her soap and headed towards the shower tarp. When she got there, she looked around for anybody who might see her, and then quickly stripped off the poncho and got under the water. It was colder than she was used to, but plentiful, and it wasn’t like she would get chilled. She was still surprised by the bathing arrangements; at most sites a privacy tarp would be placed around the area. She quickly showered and then ran to the shower tent for a quick rinse. Afterwards, she pulled the poncho back on and scampered back to her tent.
Once inside her tent, Bethany realized that her worries about being seen were overblown. For one thing, it was dark, and the downpour cut visibility drastically. More importantly, though, while everybody had retired to their tents, there didn’t seem to be a lot of sleeping going on! From the sounds coming from the tents, she hoped the camp cots were sturdy. There were even sounds of passion coming from Manolo Veracruz’s and Maohinui Smith’s tents! The two men were not alone, and in Mao’s case, it seemed like he had more than one other person with him!
Bethany hung up her poncho to dry, and pulled on a t-shirt and panties to sleep in. She lay down on the thin mattress on her cot and closed her eyes. She couldn’t fall asleep, though; it felt too hot and humid, but more importantly, the activity in the nearby tents kept her awake. She could remember her days as an undergrad and grad student. Young men and women, far from home and family, with nothing else to do at night…she’d had several relationships with men at dig sites when she was younger. One had even been with a married professor. Nothing had ever come of them, but they had been harmless and enjoyable.
Certainly, what she could hear sounded enjoyable! The heat and humidity became too much for her, and she sat up and peeled off her t-shirt, and then lay back down. That helped, but five minutes later, still hot, she lifted her butt and pushed down her panties. Although her panties were small, removing them made her feel much better. Still, while she felt more comfortable, her sexual feelings increased. Her last relationship had ended two months ago, and she had been too wrapped up in finishing the spring semester and planning her trip to the Maltesanos to try meeting another man. Now, the sounds of passion in the other tents and the fragrance of the lava lava flowers in the lei hanging over her cot combined to make her acutely aware of her sexual need and frustration. She felt her nipples hardening, and her pussy felt hot and wet, and her fingers began moving over her body. First they went to her breasts, firm and upright, and very responsive. Then one hand slipped lower down her torso and ended between her legs. She gasped as she felt her engorged clitoris, begging for release. Abandoning any restraint, she jilled an orgasm out quickly and then did a second one more slowly. Only then was she able to relax enough to fall asleep.
Bethany Maddox spent Sunday reviewing the progress of the excavation and what had been discovered to date. The Haka Nuva expedition was a relatively small one, but she had been in the archeology business long enough to know that sometimes the small digs could be the most surprising. It was certainly more pleasant than some she had been involved in. The Egyptian digs were mammoth undertakings, and farther east the entire area was a cauldron of war and terrorism. The Central American ones were also big, and every once in a while the natives would become restless, shutting things down to protect their ‘rights’ and otherwise trying to extort money out of anybody they could. By contrast, the Maltesanans seemed happy and cooperative, and while the weather was still hot and humid, the site wasn’t ridiculously far away from civilization.
Beth had originally planned to arrive three weeks before, shortly after the expedition arrived in Haka Nuva. She had a previous commitment for the first week and planned to catch up afterwards. The collapse of the GPR, the ground penetrating radar, had changed everything. It was decided that she would wait until the parts arrived, and then come out with the shipment herself, supervising everything, and bringing in some additional supplies that hadn’t been expected. As such, she desperately needed to catch up to what Doctor Veracruz and Mister Smith had been up to while she was delayed.
Clearing the expedition’s site hadn’t involved much more than running a bulldozer up the side road from the main road, and then dropping the blade and clearing the brush and jungle from an area several hundred yards away from the actual temple site. Some gravel and crushed stone had been brought into the campsite to keep everybody from sinking into the mud when it rained, which was a frequent occurrence. From the campsite to the temple, everybody walked, since the dozer would have torn up the original path. The path was wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side, but the original natives, without metals tools or the technology of wheels for carts, had not widened the path beyond that.
The location for the temple had been determined from translated records, Haka Lelo to Spanish to English, and also with the help of some of the older residents who had heard stories about the ancient temple on the mountainside. The site had further been pinpointed through satellite imagery, now available at a price even a college archeology program could afford. While the satellite’s sensors couldn’t photograph a temple covered in jungle, it could detect something was probably in the area, confirming the other stories. It would require the GPR to pinpoint the site. That had occurred relatively quickly, but then the GPR had died before the doorway had been identified.
It had been decided at that point to conduct regular excavations and do a lot of the other work necessary at any dig site. The basaltic lava was only a few inches under the surface in most places, so slit trenches were not possible. Instead, the overburden was carefully dug up and run through sorting tables to search for any artifacts. Still, the idea was to enter the temple, and for that they needed the GPR. Only the radar would find them the doorway. If they just started digging through the walls, they could easily destroy priceless artifacts and knowledge. They would be little better than grave robbers at that point. With a doorway, however, they could figure out how to open it carefully and safely, and then optimize their research, preserving everything to the maximum extent possible.
Maohinui Smith had proved to be a font of knowledge about the Maltesanos and the Maltesanans. It was obvious he loved the islands and considered himself a citizen of all the islands. Despite the English last name (“Great-grandpa landed here back before the Second World War and married a wahini, a local girl. Ever since, there’s always been at least one son to pass the name along.”) Mao looked like and considered himself Polynesian. He spoke Haka Lelo fluently and handled all of the liaison duty needed.
Bethany was sitting in the communal tent, reviewing research reports when Manolo Veracruz came in with a big smile on his face, followed by Mao and several of the kids. “It’s definite! The GPR has pinpointed the entranceway into the temple!”
Beth grinned back at him. “Great! Are we going to be able to get in?”
He nodded. “We always could get in. The trick was doing it without destroying anything. That looks increasingly possible. Tomorrow we will check things again with fresh eyes, but it looks like when they buried the temple, they did so by the simplest means possible. They simply stuck a pre-cut boulder in the doorway and covered the whole thing with dirt. The jungle probably overgrew it within the first year!”
“Interesting. No traps or false doorways?” she quizzed. Many more elaborate structures around the world, like the Pyramids and tombs of Egypt had elaborate methods to keep the unwanted out, almost all of which had been breached over time.
“Not that we could see,” replied Veracruz.
Mao nodded and said, “Probably not. Remember, they weren’t trying to bury anybody, just keep the Inquisition from finding it and destroying it. Maltesanan burial rituals involve internment in sand or at sea, depending on whether somebody was a farmer or a fisherman. We never built tombs to bury people. Besides, in Pre-Discovery times, the Haka’po’e were Neolithic. We were late Stone Age. There are no metals on the islands, for instance, so nobody is going to be buried with gold jewelry. This is a temple, not a burial site.”
“Much will depend on the quality of the seal around the doorway,” added Manolo. “We have two competing factors. On the plus side, this is a very new location. It was only buried about four hundred years ago, so we haven’t had thousands of years of people trying to get into it. On the downside, however, is the environment. This place, to put it mildly, is warm and wet. What is inside might have been destroyed if the seals are no good.”
Bethany nodded at that. Egypt and the Middle Eastern sites were in many ways an ideal environment for archeology. They were arid and the soils were hygroscopic, so even after thousands of years, artifacts were perfectly preserved. It was almost a polar opposite of the conditions to be found on the side of an extinct equatorial volcano on a jungle island. Water could well have seeped through the seals around the doorway, if there were any seals to begin with, and destroyed any non-stone artifacts.
“The only way to find out is to find out,” she replied.