The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey

by Roland Deforrest

  Far beyond the outskirts of town, the limousines pulled off the main road and into a walled compound set on an isolated peninsula. A series of pink stucco bungalows ringed by towering, swaying palms bordered a broad expanse of golden sand. She was shown to her quarters—a separate building that lay some distance from the main house. Exhausted by the tense flight she was told by the guard who accompanied her that she would have until four that afternoon by herself. Grateful for the solitude, she collapsed on the bed and promptly fell asleep.

  She was awakened by a soft tapping on her door. A native servant greeted her with several flat boxes and brought them in before withdrawing silently. The boxes contained several changes of clothing, demure in style, somber in color. After bathing, Honey tried on one of the dresses, a simple suit of dark gray, and found that it fit almost perfectly, if a little tight through the bustline. Reluctantly she once again forced her breasts into the small bra, dressed, and left her bungalow shortly before four. The tropical beauty of the locale and the beach’s balmy breezes did little to assuage her nervousness as she walked to the main house.

  Her knock was answered by Henri Bouscaral, wearing loose white beach clothes, who icily led her to a small, book-lined study, the windows of which overlooked a portion of the stunning beach. He sat behind a large desk and began speaking in officious, pompous tones: “There are several rules you must agree to obey before I will let you start teaching my niece. One, you must never, ever ask her a personal question. Two, you must force her to work hard. Kolina is a very lazy girl and needs strict discipline. Three, if her French has not improved measurably within the week, you will be dismissed. Do I have your agreement on these?”

  “Do I have any choice?”

  “Do not be impertinent,” he barked.

  She reached deep for a subservient smile. “I do not mean to be. This is all so new. Forgive me. Of course I agree to any rule you stipulate. You are the boss, no?”

  “That is correct.” He stood and called out loudly, “Kolina, come in here at once.”

  Shortly an inner door opened and the girl stepped into the room, a defiant pout on her enchanting face. Almost arrogantly, she eyed Honey as he introduced them. Honey smiled warmly and greeted her with, “Enchanté.” The girl mumbled the same and, as if bored already, stared out the window to the sparkling blue waves.

  “Ma cher,” he said quietly to her, “you must be respectful of your new teacher and try very hard to be a good girl.”

  Kolina replied angrily, “But why must I study French? I can understand every stupid thing you say.”

  “Silence,” he ordered, and stared her down with his cold eyes. “Do not forget your breeding, or your punishment if you fail to live up to my expectations.”

  “How could I forget?” she wailed. “You won’t let me. Ever.”

  He smiled apologetically at Honey. “See? She is a very spirited, high-strung girl. You will have your hands full.” With that, Bouscaral called in one of the guards and strode out of the room. The younger of the guards, a pasty-faced bulldog of a man, stood against the open door with his arms folded across his barrel chest.

  Honey smiled again at Kolina. “We will be good friends very soon, I just know.”

  “How do you know?” the girl shot back. “You won’t last a week. Henri will send you away like all the others.”

  “There have been others before me?”

  “No personal questions,” the guard growled.

  “Pardon,” Honey mumbled, and returned her attention to the lovely young blonde. The girl was obviously under great stress; dark circles underlined her large blue eyes like dirty thumbprints on the fair skin, and she had a nervous habit of running a hand through her hair, sweeping it back from her brow continually. Honey sat on the edge of the desk. “How many years of French have you had?”

  “Six,” Kolina snorted. “I know more than enough, but Henri wants me to be busy all the time with meaningless tasks.”

  “You speak it very well,” Honey praised. “Your accent is lovely.”

  “Merci,” the girl replied with some surprise, and began studying her new teacher with a different attitude. “May I call you Claudine?”

  “But of course, Kolina. Let us begin with some simple conjugations…”

  With a bored, put-upon sigh, the girl began her first lesson.

  In the isolated but beautiful location, the following days blended together into a dreary sameness for Honey. Twice a day she met with Kolina under the ever-watchful eye of one of the guards, or sometimes that of Henri himself. For those two-hour sessions, Honey drilled and tested the girl, working her hard but with gentle persistence. Honey discovered that Kolina was an extremely bright and capable young woman, with an inquisitive mind. It took several sessions before Kolina began to trust that Honey was not merely an extension of the authoritarian Henri. Gradually the girl’s sullen wariness began slipping away, to be replaced by an openly expressed fondness and dependency. Honey, however, maintained a professional though warm distance, not wanting to raise Henri’s suspicions that she was usurping his domain. She knew she was being watched carefully at all times, and made no attempts at getting the girl off alone.

  Nights were the longest for Honey, who would retire to her bungalow alone. She worried about Dirk and feared he would be crazed with anxiety from not hearing anything. There was no telephone at the compound, and the only times she was allowed to go into the town of Papeete for toiletries or a bit of shopping, she was always accompanied by one of the guards, so her chances of slipping away to send a cable or mail a letter were nonexistent. She thought of many alternate ways of notifying her brother, but discarded each as too risky. Her meals were taken either alone or with the rest of the traveling entourage of servants. She kept to herself, speaking to no one unless she was first spoken to.

  Then, on the afternoon of the fifth day, she found a logical way to get Kolina alone. The compound had several modern facilities, including a sauna. Honey had been allowed to use it by herself once in a while, but it wasn’t until she saw Henri driving off with one of the guards that she knew her chance had finally arrived. She waited until she and Kolina were a half hour into their session before suggesting that they take a sauna together and continue the lesson there. At once Kolina agreed to the idea, and as they approached the sauna room, she saucily told the guard to get lost. He pointed out that he was not to leave them alone, and Kolina became quite angry with him. “Am I to tell Henri you insisted on seeing the two of us naked?”

  The guard grew flustered, not knowing how to respond. Honey took the opportunity to push Kolina into the small dressing room off the sauna, where she firmly closed the door in the startled guard’s face. Kolina immediately shed her clothes as if they were contaminated, and stood in all her nude glory for Honey’s approval. Long-legged, high-hipped, the girl possessed large, beautifully formed breasts. Delicately tipped with small pink nipples, they looked oddly out of place on the girl’s otherwise lissome body. The soft patch of blonde hair between her legs was like a small pillow of color on her pale, fair skin.

  Honey tore away her gaze, not wanting to embarrass the girl. “You are truly lovely, Kolina,” she murmured in French, and began unhooking her own brassiere. Her large breasts tumbled free, and she noted the girl’s eyes growing wide with astonishment and envy.

  “Why do you wear such a small bra?” Kolina asked ingenuously. “If I had big breasts like yours, I wouldn’t wear a bra at all.”

  “I usually don’t,” Honey admitted, and stepped out of her skirt.

  “So why do you now?” the girl persisted.

  “Because I don’t like the way the guards look at me.”

  “Those pigs,” Kolina muttered with an angry glance at the closed door to the hall. “Honestly, they give me the creeps sometimes.”

  Honey nodded. “Me too.” She tugged down her panties and again noted that Kolina was staring, this time open-mouthed.

  “Why do you shave your thing?” the gir
l asked boldly.

  Honey laughed, running a hand over the hairless mound between her alabaster thighs. “I like the sensation.”

  “What’s it feel like?”

  “Smooth. Try it. It’s all right. I don’t mind.”

  Hesitantly the girl reached out a hand and stroked the area, sending a shiver of delight up Honey’s spine. Kolina locked eyes with her and whispered, “Would you shave mine for me?”

  “If you want, but are you sure your uncle would approve?”

  Instead of replying, Kolina withdrew her hand and, growing pensive, opened the interior door to the sauna, holding it for Honey to enter first. Inside, the dry, hot heat was a refreshing change from the sticky tropical humidity. Silently they stretched out together on a thick towel thrown over the wooden slat bench. For a long while, neither spoke. Finally Kolina whispered, “He’s not my uncle.”

  “I know.”

  Kolina propped herself up on one elbow. “You do? How?”

  Honey rolled toward her, whispering, “Remember the photographer in Central Park—the tall young man with the friendly eyes? The one you recently saw again at the Jockey Club?”

  Kolina nodded, holding her breath. Honey brushed a lock of the girl’s white-blonde hair off her face. “That’s my brother, Dirk.”

  “But he’s a Yankee.”

  “So am I. And I’m here to help you.”

  Speechlessly the girl stared, as if trying to absorb the astonishing news. Honey continued softly, not knowing how much time they had alone, “Are you being held against your will?”

  “Yes… yes…”

  “Have you tried to get away?”

  “At first. But as you see, I’m watched continually.”

  “Would you let me help you escape?”

  “Yes, of course, but how?”

  “Leave that to me,” Honey replied gently. “Just promise you won’t let on to Henri or the guards that I am not what I seem. Or that we’re planning something.”

  Kolina nodded energetically, then dropped flat on the bench, her pert young breasts already filmed with perspiration. “How do I know this isn’t another of Henri’s tricks?” she complained, staring at the ceiling. “He’s always pulling things like this.”

  Honey placed a friendly hand on the girl’s flat stomach. “I swear to you, I am your friend. I will do everything in my power to help. You must believe me. We may not get another chance to be alone.”

  The girl rolled her head, her large blue eyes searching Honey’s with almost desperate urgency. “I want to believe… truly I do…”

  Honey could not resist the temptation any longer. She leaned into the enchanting face and kissed Kolina softly on the lips. She heard a sharp intake of air from the girl, and then felt her slender arms encircling her. “Sweet Kolina,” she murmured into the girl’s moist neck. “I love you…”

  “And I you,” Kolina whispered passionately. “What’s your real name?”

  “For now, it’s better that you don’t know. You might mistakenly call me by it.”

  “I understand,” Kolina said firmly, and rubbed her hardening nipples against Honey’s already inflamed ones. “I want to make love to you,” she panted into Honey’s ear.

  “And I to you… but we’d be taking a great risk. Henri or the guard—” Her words were cut off by the sweet young mouth on hers. For a long while their kisses grew in intensity, their tongues snaking in and out of each other’s bodies with their hands, slicking the thin film of sweat from firm breasts and tender thighs. It took Honey little time to realize the girl was more than knowledgeable in all areas of lovemaking, for Kolina’s movements and responses were assured and experienced. That only increased Honey’s ardor for the sweet young thing. Throwing caution to the hot, dry air surrounding them, Honey willingly followed the girl’s expert lead. Their knees pressed up between damp thighs, pushing into the tender flesh of their crotches.

  Though the temperature inside the cedar-lined sauna was already extreme, it did not begin to match Honey’s internal heat. The long, lonely nights of total abstinence had left her like dry tinder, ready to explode at the slightest spark. And now the enchanting, almost mystical beauty of the virginal-appearing young woman in her arms, combined with the girl’s expertise and firm, pliant flesh, set her off into spasms of incandescent bliss. Kolina’s nipples in her mouth tasted like candy, and her skin was so smooth it seemed polished by thousands of worshipping hands. As Honey trailed her tongue down the soft curves of the healthy young breasts, Kolina’s sweat-filmed skin tasted both salty and sweet.

  As the girl traced her fingers over Honey’s bounteous breasts, Honey, in turn, maneuvered herself around to bring her face down to the damp mat of blonde hair. She licked the pretty little navel, then worked her way down through the sparse blond hair and between the girl’s pristine thighs. She was concentrating so hard on the contrasting texture of fair skin and fair hair that she was startled when Kolina darted a deft tongue deep into her wet slice. Honey moaned and, with her hands, spread the girl open even further. Like a fresh peach, juicy and sweet, pink and dripping, Kolina’s cunt looked heavenly. There was a delicacy about the coloring, a perfect symmetry to the two halves, a girlish ruffle to the ridges. Honey parted the outer lips with her fingers and stared down into the lovely inner pair, undulating and waving at her like a welcoming flower of dewy flesh. Eager to taste the hidden delights, Honey lowered her tongue and, making a cone of its tip, dipped into the succulent, swollen trove. It was like diving into a jar of strawberry preserves, sweet and satisfying.

  As Kolina worked her own tongue deep into her teacher’s honeypot, Honey’s tongue sliced into the trough of tender flesh. With the girl flat under her, Honey, on her knees, bounced up and down on Kolina’s stiff tongue, perfectly placed on the exact center of her most sensitive spot. Kolina’s clitoris was a tiny nub of firmness in the fleshy folds. Perspiration rolled off them like a tropical shower, pooling on Kolina, making her as slippery as an eel. She writhed and twisted under Honey, and moaned, squealing softly, but she never missed a stroke with her talented tongue.

  Buried to her ears, Honey slapped her heavy breasts down on the girl’s belly, her hard nipples raking the slippery skin like metal prongs. Inside, she was a pyrotechnical display, fireworks bursting with ever-increasing brilliance of color and design, heat and desire. Showers of sparks flew outward to every pore of her inflamed skin; the very soles of her feet seemed afire. The conflagration intensified, the hot, dry air burning her nostrils and scorching her throat with each gasping lungful. The moment of truth approached with the suddenness of a desert storm. Lightning flashed and cracked before her eyes and struck deep within her valley of love. She crammed her exploding cunt down onto the upturned mouth and lost herself in the blessed relief of the lengthy thundershowers that flooded down her delta of lust. Almost at once, Kolina erupted with her own bursts of passion, and Honey, overjoyed at the mutual climax, collapsed on the firm flesh. They melted into one another and rode out the delicious aftershocks.

  Not long afterwards the pair emerged from the dressing room, fully dressed and demurely proper. The guard glared at them, growling his displeasure at the length of their stay. Kolina breezed past him with her pert nose in the air. “I was conjugating a very difficult verb,” she told him and, with a sidelong wink at Honey, pranced down the hall.

  Honey watched her tight young buttocks twitch out of sight. Still reeling from the magnificent release, she smiled sweetly at the guard and gave him a small shrug of remorse for keeping the girl so long at her studies. Moving after her pupil, Honey realized that she was hooked all the more on the beautiful girl. Now, more than ever, she was committed to helping Kolina escape. Even if it meant risking her own life.

  14.

  DIRK

  Consumed by the double loss of his sister and Kolina, Dirk had frantically attempted to locate the missing duo in Hong Kong, only to be informed that Henri Bouscaral’s private jet had departed for parts unknown. Plagued with gu
ilt for having placed Honey in jeopardy, he had to hang about the luxurious Shangri-La Hotel, hoping that she would contact him there.

  Anxiously he had waited for an entire week, rarely venturing out for fear he would miss word from her. Each day dragged by tediously. He did not shave for the whole period, and ate little; booze offered no consolation, nor did the wide variety of drugs available on the black market, or even the beautiful Oriental call girls whom he occasionally had sent to his suite. Usually, fucking would take his mind off anything—but not this time. Even when he was in the lusty saddle of some exotic Chinese whore, his mind dwelled on his own part in placing Honey in danger.

  At the end of the maddeningly frustrating, draining week, Dirk gave up. After leaving explicit instructions with the hotel management on how to track him down if word from Honey did arrive, he flew to Paris to locate Honey’s old school chum, Disa Dichter, whom he had not been able to reach by phone or cable. He had hopes she would have an idea where Bouscaral might be. Once in Paris, he was further disappointed to learn that Disa was not in the city; she had flown to Alaska with her new beau, a Canadian timber baron. Dirk set off at once for Alaska.

  In Anchorage he learned that Disa and her boyfriend had left by private helicopter for Skagway. Immediately, Dirk flew there and went straight to the former boomtown’s ritziest hotel. To his relief he found that Disa and her traveling companion were still registered, but had departed only moments before for the railroad station, for a jaunt to Whitehorse. Dirk ran the entire nine blocks, arriving just as the old-fashioned, narrow-gauge train of the White Pass and Yukon Railroad was pulling out of the station. Throwing caution to the winds, he raced after it, jumping on the observation platform of the rear coach at the last possible moment.

  Winded by the sudden burst of athletics, Dirk now pushed his way into the passenger car. It was jammed beyond capacity. There were young backpackers eager to make the trek over the Chilkoot Trail, made famous by the Klondike Gold Rush of 1898, camera-toting enthusiasts out to capture some of the spectacular scenic wonders, backwoodsmen returning to the wilds after venturing into civilization for necessary supplies, families of American and Canadian tourists who were out for another day’s adventure into the hinterlands, and local natives who used the quaint old railroad as means of getting to their homes and places of employment.