“Mmmm…well, hello, Kamapua’a,” I said, finding the Pig God at last. It was tattooed right on his groin. I reached out a finger to gently trace the snout and the razor sharp tusks of the fierce-looking pig.
“God help me,” he said, but his cock was growing by the second, making him even more enormous. It truly was magnificent. I licked my lips and went straight to work, my tongue reaching for the glorious head that topped the thickest, widest penis I’d ever seen.
Kimo shot into the air like I’d stuck him with a rusty nail.
“Whaddya think you’re doing? Jesus Christ…I gotta be nuts.”
“Would you keep quiet? You don’t want everyone to know you’re getting the head from hell, do you?”
He just looked at me and I eased him back onto the bed. There was so much I wanted to do to him. But I had to tread carefully. He let me get back to my target and I heard him gasp when my mouth engulfed his cock head. I held his massive meat in my hands just to feel its incredible heat and I almost came myself, just from the nearness of the power and the beauty of this man.
Taking bolder steps forward, I let my mouth explore his rigid pole, then I took my mouth away. “Exactly how big is it?”
“Ten inches,” he mumbled.
“And the rest,” I said. “It’s easily eleven, maybe twelve.” I didn’t know if I could even handle anything this size, but I was sure gonna give it the old hula boy try.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he said as I climbed on his bed and got between his outstretched legs.
“Getting comfortable. It’s also more fun for you to watch me take your whole cock in my mouth this way.”
I reached over, grabbed a Pua-keni-keni flower and ground it up in my palm. I saw his mouth drop open as I lifted the hand to his nose as I went back to that big, smooth organ, his pre-come greeting the tip of my tongue and I guzzled it up.
“Oh man…oh my God…” Kimo watched as I worked that cock, which so hard, yet the skin so soft I could have sworn it was carved from the finest koa wood, if it hadn’t twitched in my mouth the second I made contact with it again.
Kimo watched as my tongue competed with my sucking mouth to give him pleasure and ultimate relief. I had never enjoyed giving a man a blow job more and I hadn’t even started yet. Midway down, I stopped and pulled up again, sucking his gorgeous tool with me.
“Oh…fuck,” he said. “Where the hell did you learn that?”
I kept my mouth moving, letting my throat relax, getting used to the sheer size of him. My hand moved down to his balls, which I massaged gently, desperate to lick them. I let go of his cock and I heard him moaning in protest until I bent to lick at the massive testicles bouncing like mini beach balls in the palms of my hands.
He struggled for breath when I sucked them one at a time into my mouth and then he started squirming. He wanted his cock back in my mouth, but he didn’t want to ask. I couldn’t wait to give my Phantom Lover exactly what he wanted.
I saw the look of disbelief on his face as I took possession of him again. He had that focused look he got when he was deep in dance, or chant and I realized this was how he looked when he experienced carnal pleasure.
“You’re not using your hands. Just your mouth…oh man, I’m gonna shoot. Keep your mouth on me…oh…I’m gonna come…”
He flooded my throat and I fought the urge to release him as his cock tore down my throat, giving me the biggest load I’d ever taken in my life.
Kimo’s hands flew to my head. “Arrgghh!” he howled into the moonlight.
I thought that fountain of fire would never stop but at last, he flopped back on the bed, panting.
It took him a full minute to speak. “That was amazing…but…it…this can never happen again.”
Ignoring him, I burrowed my face back between his legs to get at those balls, to nurse on them again until he was ready for some more mouth to cock resuscitation.
“No, no… Oh…oh man…oh…oh fuck…” He twisted and turned as I slurped on those succulent babies and soon he was humping my face.
Three times I brought him off with my mouth, and the third time, which was exquisite for both of us, took longer, so I was able to really enjoy that massive tool until he couldn’t take it any longer.
“You are something else,” he said, when he pulled up my sweat soaked body and hugged me to him. “But get to bed now, little mahu.”
Mahu. The Hawaiian word for gay. I wasn’t affronted, just a little bit surprised that he was rushing me off so fast. But I saw the massive erection he still had. I smiled to myself. Yeah. The mahu did that to him.
“Don’t even think about coming back here.” His voice was severe. “Get some sleep.”
But in the middle of the night, I awoke because he was calling my name.
“Get over here,” Kimo hissed and I staggered over to him. “Get those shorts off. I want to see who’s making me feel this good.”
I stood naked before him. “You’ve got a nice big cock yourself, little mahu,” he said, touching it briefly.
He lay back on the bed.
“How do you want me?” My throat was raspy from taking that power tool where no man’s been before.
He pulled me onto the bed between his legs, only this time, he kept his arm under his head, raising himself a little to watch what I was doing to him.
Occasionally, he would reach a hand out to stroke my head or arm, to touch my mouth, which was stretched around his cock. When at last he came, he pulled me to him. With one arm around my waist, we fell asleep.
* * * *
In the morning, he was already out of bed and showering. The Pua-keni-keni was a heady reminder of what we’d done together. I waited my turn and almost jerked off in the shower for instant relief, but I actually enjoyed depriving myself sometimes.
I greeted him in a friendly way in front of Roland and Lon, but not in a way that would make him feel like I was letting on to the others that anything had happened. Laughing and joking with the others over breakfast, I was aware of his restive stare.
It was not until we cleaned up the dishes and we had an hour’s rest period that I went to our bedroom, hoping he would meet me there.
Within minutes, he came into the room and my cock jumped in my pants.
“Lock that door,” I whispered.
He was over to me, hands at his pants, and I helped tug them to the ground so I could get at his commanding cock.
* * * *
After a quick workout in the forest, he gave us the afternoon off. He was meeting with the producers of his show and I knew he wouldn’t be racing to our bedroom anytime soon, so I decided to visit my tutu, or grandma, in Kea’au, a couple of miles from the Guest House. I would have called, except that Kimo had taken all the phones out of the cottages. All those distractions, you know. Besides, my tutu didn’t keep the phone plugged in. She was convinced the government spied on its citizens that way.
One of the trails led there and although I lost my way a couple of times since it was so overgrown, I did find it at last. Her cottage was as decrepit and uninhabitable as I remembered it. Pigs, chickens and goats roamed in an out of the place, like extras in a Ma and Pa Kettle movie. Out of the back door, came my tutu, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Aloha, Bobby,” she said, as if it had been three days since she’d seen me and not two years. I sent my tutu money and we wrote, but she was a recluse and it had been difficult for me to come see her.
Apart from the fact that her house was real country, it was also dirty, which may have been the same thing. She had no glass or screens in her windows and despite her love of small animals, hungry Pueo, the Hawaiian owl, often plucked any that she kept from the premises in the middle of the night.
Tutu poured me some lilikoi juice from a can. I wondered where she’d gotten the can and was surprised to see she had a well-stocked fridge on her back lanai.
“I saved all the money you sent me. I bought the fridge online.”
�
��Online?” I was startled that Tutu even knew what that meant.
“I have the internet,” she said with pride. “I bought me a Dell with the money you sent. I have all kinds of friends I never met all over the world. I got electricity now, running water even. It took me a year to get my phone line. I dream of DSL which you know we don’t have here, but still, not bad for a squatter, eh?”
Tutu, like a lot of people in Puna, lived on land that was supposed to be vacant. She’d lived there more than twenty years. If the local council could even find the place, they’d vacate her, but then they’d have to vacate everybody else in the district, too. But this is why she’d become a hermit. Afraid some other squatter would come and steal what was hers if she ever left the place.
“You like some lunch?” she asked me.
“No thanks, Tutu.”
“What about your friend? He hungry?”
“What friend?”
She pointed a finger toward one of the windows. I was surprised to see it was Kimo, hiding in the bushes like a Peeping Tom.
Chapter Five
“Kimo, what are you doing here?”
He looked flustered. “I…er…I was taking a run and…I er…guess I got lost.”
“What, you Tarzan, me stupid?”
He looked sheepish. “I guess I followed you.”
“Forgive my boy,” Tutu said. “Bobby, aren’t you going to introduce us? Is this your boyfriend?”
“No, Tutu. He’s not my boyfriend. His name is Kimo. He’s my boss.”
“Too bad for you. He’s better looking than that scrawny thing you used to come by with.”
Kimo’s mouth jerked into a grin. “So you wouldn’t mind if I was his boyfriend?”
“I haven’t decided yet, boss man. You like fo’ have some lunch?”
“Sure,” Kimo said, sitting cross-legged on the pandanus mat flooring of Grandma’s cottage. There was nowhere else to sit. Tutu didn’t believe in chairs. My shock and embarrassment that he was taking it all in subsided until Grandma brought out the gnarliest looking food I’d ever seen.
“Tutu,” I groaned. “What are you feeding us?”
“Opu.” She gave me an indignant look.
“I haven’t seen opu since I was a kid.” A rapturous Kimo, picked up a long strand of the marinated raw fish. He closed his eyes and chewed it slowly. I watched the trickle of oil and lemon dribble down his chin. I wanted to lick it off.
Grandma gave me a smug look.
“Where do you find your opu?” He dipped his fingers in for more.
“The mountain stream up by Mauna Ulu.”
“Ah…Mauna Ulu. Madame Pele’s new baby.”
“I catch it with my hands.” Grandma was reveling in Kimo’s attention. “Bobby here can catch opu with his hands, too.”
Kimo smothered a smile. “I bet he can.”
“I taught him the ways of the old ones.” Tutu gave him a significant look. Some sort of understanding seemed to pass between them. But it all went way over my head.
Kimo seemed to be enjoying himself and chatted to my tutu in Hawaiian. I however, wanted to disappear through one of the large cracks of her thatched floor. She even brought him homemade kawa, the type of distilled liquor that quickly made the old Hawaiians drunk.
Tutu and Kimo got giddy. They were having a whale of a time chomping on sandwiches made of thick, crusty bread and filled with lobsters her neighbor ten miles up the mountain traded her for her excellent bread.
“Boss man, you like fo’ have some breadfruit?
“You have breadfruit?” Kimo’s eyes were like orbs.
“Steamed or fried?” Grandma cackled with delight.
“Oh, steamed, please, Tutu.” If she’s not your grandma, you’re telling her she’s the Respected One. Boy, this guy was something else. He ate everything Grandma gave him. He dipped two fingers into the poi, the results of Grandma’s taro patch and put them in his mouth.
“Fresh,” she said, proud of her smooth paste.
The minute her back was turned, his fingers dipped into the poi and plunged into my mouth. A current of pure electricity passed through us as he gave me his fingers again and I sucked on them like they were two mini cocks. I was going to get him for this.
Tutu admired Kimo’s collection of tattoos and he admired Tutu’s collection of valuables, including gourds she’d inherited from her great, great grandparents and an old Victrola, which came on a ship via the whaling ship captain who impregnated my naïve and impressionable great, great, great grandma.
On his knees now, Kimo flipped through Tutu’s collection of thick ‘78 records. The kind that were one sided.
“Aloha Oe. I haven’t heard the Alma Gluck version for years.” He lovingly wiped down the record’s surface, did something to the needle of that old record player, cranked up the turntable and Alma Gluck sang the haunting melody penned by our beloved last Queen, Lili’uokalani.
As mad as I was at him for discovering my humble beginnings, I fell even harder for him, watching emotion get the better of him as he and Tutu sang along with Alma.
“Will you give my house your blessing?” She pointed at his foot. “I see you are the kupuna of the forest. You can speak to the gods for me.”
“Of course, Tutu,” he said and I watched him gather things from her kitchen and from her garden, then I watched him say a prayer and fasten a clump of herbs and branches with a stripped piece of bark to her back fence.
I think that was the moment I fell in love with him. What the heck was I doing? This was sex. Just sex. I could not fall in love with him. I watched the muscles move in his back as he burned orange leaves, saying a prayer of protection for me and Tutu.
“Bring oranges here once a week,” he told Tutu, who thanked him. “And keep bringing the yellow flowers. Oh and don’t forget to bring Pele some breadfruit.”
Tutu looked at him and that was when I understood. They recognized the divine spirit in one another. Maybe he wouldn’t burn me as badly as I feared.
“Don’t thank me,” he told Tutu. “Thank Bobby.”
Tutu smiled at me. “You got yourself a good man, Bobby.” And I didn’t have the heart to correct her. I just grinned like a simpleton and, when Grandma sent us home, she hugged Kimo as if she would never let him go.
“Be good to my boy,” she said. “He got one tenda heart, yeah?”
“I know, Tutu.” He kissed her cheeks and accepted the food she’d parceled for us in long red ti leaves. The way he’d been eating his lunch, I doubted the food would make it back to the cottage.
“Lead the way.” My fearless warrior patted my ass, making my grandma cackle again.
* * * *
“Where are we?” he asked about half an hour later, following me through what was becoming a rainforest. We’d come the wrong way. We were heading toward the volcano. But I’d had enough. Bobby wanted what Bobby wanted. And he wanted it now.
“Right where I want you,” I said, as we stood in the middle of an overgrown mangrove. No need for him to know that we were lost—yet. “Now get your clothes off.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No. I’m not. I know you want it. You came looking for it.”
“I thought you were with a man. I…” he broke off. “We’re lost, aren’t we?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Aren’t you a wood nymph or something? Now get your clothes off.”
“The way you talk to me,” he said. But his eyes sparkled and he obeyed me because he wanted to, not because I was an authoritative figure. I folded up his clothes and made a little bed for him to lie on and instantly, I was on him, my hands spreading his legs, feeling the muscles in his body move as I spread them further.
“Lift your ass up,” I said.
He started to protest and I slapped his inner thigh, pressing until he gave me more access. I started licking toward his balls and I could tell he liked that. I could see his ass hole ahead of me and my tongue went for it.
“What the
fuck!” he screamed, trying to jerk away from me. “I told you I am not gay!”
“Shut up and enjoy it. Don’t tell me your wife never rimmed you for God’s sake.”
“I am not gay,” he said sullenly.
“And I never said you were. I’m just trying to make you feel good. Now just take your ass licking like a man.”
I have to say he did. He wriggled all over the place, trying to get my mouth near his cock, yet wanting my tongue at his quivering ass hole.
“Do you like it?” I asked him, lifting my head.
“Oh…oh yeah. Nobody ever did anything like this to me before. The sensations are…wild. I gotta admit.”
I gave him a self-satisfied smile and sent my tongue back to where it belonged. His hips started moving, his ass crushing my lips and tongue. By the time he grabbed my head and shoved his cock into my mouth, he was ready to go off. By now, I’d become used to the size of him and I was able to manipulate even better vibrations for him by working my tongue on him as he shuddered to a grinding climax.
“Oh my God, Bobby. How… where…”
“Only a man knows how good that feels,” I said, as rain splashed down on us. “And… ah… this might be a good time to tell you we’re miles from where we should be.”
Kimo laughed and reached up to kiss me. “We’re never lost in the forest. Come on, baby, I know the way.”
Baby. I suddenly didn’t care that his way was deeper and deeper into places most people never see of the Big Island, even the adventurous ones. We weren’t dressed for a trek and although we had no water, we did have plenty of food.
I didn’t care where we were, as long as I was with him. He turned around, as if reading my thoughts. He kissed me and I could taste lobster, kawa and even poi on his tongue.
As we rounded the cusp of the extinct volcanic crater known as Iki, as in small, Kimo got excited. He put his strong arm around me.
“You ever had an encounter with Madame Pele?”
“Yes, once.”
“You did? What happened?”
I hesitated. I had never told anyone the story. It was very private. But then his head dipped and his tongue flicked at my throat, sending my senses into the spin cycle.
Phantom Lover Page 4