There is a lot of deep thought in this post, as well as a picture of me when I was...young! It's a scan of a photo taken with one of those throw-awy cameras, so pardon the fuzziness!
Sometimes business travel is really awful. It’s usually another week, another city, another bout with boredom. This week I had an overnight trip to (ugh) New Jersey. It seems to me that every little town in New Jersey has a Polynesian restaurant, and, against my better judgement, I decided to try one. I regretted the decision the moment I passed the scowling Tiki totems in the entranceway and walked into a dark cavernous space illuminated only by fake torches belching fire. What a waste of natural gas!
For fun, I thought I’d wear my blonde wig to see what kind of reaction I’d get. Blonde Asian women seem to get a lot of attention, and I was in need of some. I love attention! I could have worn my long black wig, though. That always brings attention as well.
As soon as I was seated, I ordered a small vegetarian pu-pu platter, pineapple rice and my favorite drink, a Zombie. When my drink was delivered, the waiter placed a flower Lei around my neck. “We always give these to our Polynesian customers,” he said.
“But I’m not…”
The waiter winked and laughed. “Yeah. I know. But with that blonde hair, well, I just thought it would look good around your neck.”
Hmmm. The wig was working. I felt pretty good until he slid into the seat across from me. Him-you know-Zell, Susanoo-whatever his name was. The Devil! He was there to torment me. I was sure of that.
“You again,” I hissed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “I merely asked the waiter about getting a lei, and he directed me to you. Anyway, I came here because, well, because my brother, he whom you call God, created Polynesian women for a reason and I wanted to meet a Polynesian woman. That’s where Eden was, you know, in Polynesia.”
“Wait a second,” I snorted. “First, I’m not Polynesian and second, I thought Eden was in Africa, or Iran, or…”
“Nah,” he said. “That’s the cradle of civilization, not Eden. Civilization. Ha!”
“Hold on,” I whispered. “What are you implying about Eden?”
Zell-I chose to use that name to spare myself the tongue twisting syllables- laughed. “Suppose God created an area where humans could learn and mature? Then he went away for a while only to find them steeped in ludicrous superstitions and absurd religious beliefs? He’d be upset. Now, don’t get me wrong. He loves Semitic women. That was the whole point…”
“What a minute,” I said. “Are you telling me that God created the cradle of civilization for the women?”
Zell gave me a look of surprise, as though the information he just gave me was common knowledge. “Sure,” he said. “After all, he has created humans, supposedly, not in his own image as the Bible implies, but in his idealized image. Also, let’s face it-if humans are patterned after him, and he has his needs, he would choose the sexiest women he could.”
“Polynesian women. “ Zell sighed. He paused and looked off into space. “Very hot. I remember one time before the missionaries came. There was me and these two nubile…well, never mind. You definitely look Polynesian, you know. Slim shoulders, dark skin, small boobs…”
I hate being reminded of the size of my boobs! “Oh,” I said. “Thanks a lot!”
Zell laughed at my distress. “Tsk,” he said. “I forgot. You’re hung up on that, are you? Take it as a compliment. Anyway, he made the men to be appealing to the woman as well. Have you ever been with a Polynesian man?”
My mind drifted a few years back to high school where Kenny, this huge guy from Samoa…well, that’s another story.
I tapped the table with my index finger and stared into Zell’s eyes. “None of your business. Let’s get back to the cradle of civilization. When you said civilization, you laughed.”
“Oh, those old time Semites,” Zell sighed. “A supernatural explanation for everything. The frogs, for example. A bunch of tadpoles hatch, cross a road, and they go nuts. A hailstorm with lightning that sets a tree on fire! Oooooo-scary, angry God! A little red tide in the Nile becomes blood in their minds. Oooooo-scary, angry God! Of course there were rationale explanations for all these phenomena. There is always a rational explanation for everything. But no one wanted to listen to rational minds, so the stories of plagues made it into the Bible. Anyway, as much as God liked Semitic women, he did get tired of them. I mean, they started making demands, getting bossy, asking for gifts and such, so he created Eden. Eden came after civilization, you know, not before, but the Bible had its own set of revisionist writers. Think of Polynesia – gorgeous land, gorgeous people, no hang-ups about sex, the only clothing grass skirts and flower leis. Hey – a Polynesian woman doesn’t have to wonder if a guy is horny for her, know what I mean? The evidence, if you will, is not constrained by a pair of pants. And those flower leis – can you imagine running down a beach with only flower petals covering your boobs? Or how about just bobbing up and down naked in the warm azure ocean. If I remember correctly, the last time we met it was in Hawaii. Think about how you ran naked through the surf there. Think!”
“I…I…” There it was again. That strange feeling, the feeling of being transported to a different place.
“I want you to call me Tipua,” Zell said.
“It’s the closest thing the Polynesians have to a demon,” he said, “and I need inspiration.”
I was beginning to drift off into a pleasant, warm place, but I had enough mental strength to mumble, “Let me inspire you, Tipua.”
Tipua covered my hands with his. “Imagine,” he said. “Imagine running down a beach at dusk wearing a grass skirt and a lei. The sky is combination of pink and blue, a soft breeze is making the palm fronds sway, and a mist is drifting over you from the surf. Think! Think about running through the surf completely naked. Think!”
I closed my eyes and saw it – all of it. The sky, the trees, and the surf. I ran, gleeful, through the sand. My breasts flew back and forth, the lei no longer doing its job of covering me. My grass skirt flew about, exposing the bare skin of my upper thighs and my backside. I felt so free! Then I heard someone calling my name. I turned and there Tipua was, laughing and running after me, his excited prick poking out from under his grass skirt, leading the way.
I giggled and shouted, “No!” I ran faster and faster, but he closed the distance between us. I tossed aside my grass skirt and lei and ran into the surf, coating my body with slippery salt water. I ran back onto the sand, giggling louder and louder, wondering if Tipua was keeping up with me. When I turned to look backward I stumbled, falling to my hands and knees. A second later Tipua was behind me, his hands on my breasts, his fingers pinching my nipples, his rigid cock poised to enter me.
He pressed his lips to my ears and let his breath waft over them. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered.
“Fuck me!” I cried. “Fuck me!”
“I will have my fun with you,” Tipua said. “But, as you know, your wish is my command, so your command will be answered.” Tipua was fantastic, of course. He eased into me slowly, taking his time. He’s push in a tiny bit and then pull a tiny bit less, sengin me into an excited state that just built and built. When he was buried deep inside me, he moved in and out using long strokes seemed to go on forever-long strokes going out that seemed to never end.
He pressed his lips to my ear again and, in a combination of a laugh and a whisper, asked, “Could anything make this better?”
“Yes,” I cried. “If there were two of you.”
“Your command will be fulfilled.” Suddenly he was in front of me and behind me. I grabbed his hips and pulled him deep into my mouth. His hands were everywhere – on my head, on my face, on my back, on my breasts, on my ass, on my clit – everywhere!
We moved in unison, perfectly, no wasted motion. A cool mist covered me with dampness, just as my sweet elixir covered my thighs with dampness and my saliva covered my chin with dampness. I prayed for him to come. I prayed hard. I always wait, you see. I wait for the explosion of hot spray before I allow myself to orgasm. It’s what sets me over the edge. But it wasn’t happening, so I took control. I dictated the motions of our love-making, moving my head faster and wiggling my hips ferociously.
I exploded! I grabbed the sand and screamed as my orgasm tore me to shreds.
When I opened my eyes, I saw my lei hanging from a lamp. I was in my hotel room lying on soaked bed sheets. Of course! I must have had a fever and it broke. And, along with the fever, I had this crazy dream. The Zombies were sure to have helped a bit. Thank goodness the hotel room was one that had two double beds. My legs almost gave out as I dragged my naked body from under the covers. I slipped on a pair of panties and a tee shirt, pulled back the covers of the other bed and slid underneath them.
But, something was wrong. I had sand on my hands. I wracked my brain – where in the restaurant had I encountered sand?
Oh well. There had to be a rational explanation. There always is.
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