The Poi Predicament

by Lyle Christie

  “Oh, hello, Tag! What brings you up here?”

  “I had to pee, and this was the only available bathroom.”

  “That’s what all the boys say when they’re trying to get into my room,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

  Sweet Lord. What had I done? I was in Melissa’s private bedroom, which, meant I was in the hellcat’s lair.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to barge into your room. I was just trying a different exit and obviously took a wrong turn.”

  “I wouldn’t say wrong just yet,” she said, as she stepped closer.

  I could now smell her perfume, and it brought on an olfactory response that took me immediately back to our unfortunate night of passion. This, in turn, brought on some legitimate panic, and I found myself trying to make idle conversation as I took note of the exit and started trying to form an escape plan.

  “So, this is your room?” I asked.

  “Sure is, and it’s where I spent every summer since fifth grade.”

  “Why would you even have a room at the resort when you can stay here?”

  “I didn’t want to worry about driving home after the party, so I figured a room would allow me to have a lot more fun.”

  “I see. That was probably good thinking.”

  I took a moment to look around the room in the hope that I might gain some insight into the crazy ass mind of Melissa Williams. Sometimes a person’s bedroom could be like a snapshot of their inner psychological workings. A tidy room was thought to reflect a well-ordered mind while a messy one said exactly the opposite. Based upon our night of wild sex, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find Melissa’s room filled with whips, chains, and leather corsets, but the reality was rather mundane. On one wall, there were various pictures from her privileged childhood, with the majority being shots of her at exclusive functions—the focal point being her debutante ball. On the next wall over, there were the obligatory ribbons earned from childhood competitions, and the majority were, of course, from equestrian events. That wasn’t very surprising, as it seemed that all girls, rich and poor, loved to ride horses, though the rich girls actually owned them. Interestingly, a certain Human Sexuality Professor I had back at Stanford had revealed that the shape of the saddle and subsequent movement of the steed provided a kind of stimulation to women’s lady parts that was more or less comparable to masturbating—something guys achieved in much simpler way by using their hands. Girls road horses. Guys beat off. It was just one of the truths of the universe.

  “I see that you’re into horses,” I said.

  “Aren’t all girls?”

  “As far as I can tell.”

  I turned my gaze to the next wall and saw a picture of a teenage Melissa and an equally youthful John Matheson standing on the deck of a fancy yacht club. John was wearing top siders, a Polo shirt, and preppy plaid shorts while Melissa was in some kind of flower print short summer dress, and to make it even more cutesy, she was kissing him on the cheek. Sweet Lord! It looked less like a family photo and more like a fucking print ad for Ralph Lauren. As I was about to ask Melissa when the picture was taken, she abruptly stepped closer.

  “So, Tag, I haven’t seen you since the other night, and I really had a lot of fun and was kind of hoping we might have a repeat performance,” she said, as she reached out and ran her hand down my chest and over the front of my shorts.

  “I did too, but…”

  Before I could finish my sentence, she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me, and it was like being trapped by a gigantic preying mantis. She was strong and had a good grip, but I finally managed to pull my lips free. Unfortunately, she used this opening to yank down my shorts and take firm hold of my mantool. I tried to back away, but she followed me and ended up pinning me against the nearby dresser. With a wicked smile, she dropped to her knees and started into some unwanted, though oddly pleasurable oral sex. My mind reeled as I tried to stem the flow of blood, all the while knowing in my heart of hearts that it was wrong, and I needed to free myself from this hellcat’s devilish mouth. Still, even as I tried to pry her from my loins, my member grew rock hard, and, having little success, I changed tactics and tried to sidestep my way to freedom. The result was that she remained stubbornly attached to my penis, and it felt as though I were using my manhood like a leash to try and pull a hundred and twenty pound pit bull.

  “Wait, Melissa, I can’t do this.”

  She suddenly stopped for a second and smiled up at me seductively.

  “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll do all the work,” she said, untying her bikini top and dropping it onto the floor.

  That was my opening, and I used it to step out of her reach and try and pull up my shorts as I made a break for the hallway. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get them past my boner, but I soldiered on and reached the hallway just in time to see Violet and Lux appear at the top of the stairs. Both froze, and their gazes instantly fell upon my raging hard-on, which was conspicuously pointing at them over my waistband. Lux began laughing, but Violet, however, wasn’t amused, so, as usual, I was up to my neck in shit and fate was throwing a rock at my face.

  “Any particular reason you’re running around with a boner?” Violet asked, with a distinctively disapproving tone in her voice.

  “Not a good one.”

  “Wow, Finn, talk about party fouls,” Lux said.

  Just then, Melissa came dashing out into the hall, and her bare breasts were bouncing about and very likely to make this situation even harder to explain.

  “Oh, there you are, Tag,” Melissa said, innocently.

  “Yeah, there you are,” Violet added.

  “And there they are,” Lux added, obviously referring to Melissa’s breasts.

  “Yeah—we’re all here,” I responded.

  “It would appear there’s a totally different dress code up here, so Violet and I will be going back downstairs to wait for one of those restrooms to open up,” Lux said.

  “Yeah, so have fun,” Violet said, giving me an icy glare.

  She and Lux turned around and walked back toward the stairs and disappeared from view, and, as inopportune as that chance meeting had just been, it at least afforded me a brief moment of de-escalation in which to attempt to thwart the unwanted advances of the hellcat Melissa Williams.

  “Look, I’m sorry, Melissa. You’re incredibly attractive, but I can’t do this.”

  “Excuse me? You’re going to pass on this?” she said, motioning at her glorious body.

  “Well, yeah—sadly I must,” I said, as I took a final look.

  Melissa seethed for a moment then appeared to calm down.

  “Fine, but you’ll regret it. They all do.”

  “You’re probably right,” I said, as I turned and headed downstairs still feeling oddly violated.

  The awkward exchange with Violet and Lux had been just the right amount of discomfort to reduce Tag Junior’s swelling, and I was finally able to wrestle him back into my shorts. Now that I was well below half-mast, I headed back out to the pool to join the others, and Violet, as expected, greeted me with a look of quiet disdain, but who could blame her after what she had just witnessed.

  “Back so soon?” she asked.

  “Yeah, and this time it really wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “So, you weren’t fucking Melissa again?”

  “Not even close.”

  “So, your boner and her bare tits were perfectly innocent?”

  “Well, this is going to sound worse before it sounds better, but you arrived at the exact moment I fled from an attempted blowjob. I’m not exaggerating when I say she tried to orally rape me.”

  “Wait, who raped you?” Doug asked, as he appeared at my side.

  “Melissa Williams.”

  “Seriously? What happened? And don’t leave out any sordid details,” he said, with a little too much enthusiasm.

  “She just fully forced herself on me.”

  “Dude, can you be more specific?”

 
“Let me put it this way. She just went full Dyson on Tag Junior, and I’m lucky it’s still attached.”

  “A blowjob? That is fucking awesome!” he said, again offering me another high five.

  This time I refrained and left Doug hanging, but I was hoping it might at least make Violet a little happier.

  “Look, Doug, it wasn’t exactly a blowjob, as I managed to break free and run for it long before anything serious happened.”

  “Like ejaculation?” he asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “Dude, are you fucking serious?” Beeber asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Bullshit,” Doug said.

  “No, I’m serious, and when she reached down to take off her bikini top, I made a run for it—literally.”

  “Dude, is this you officially coming out of the closet,” Beeber asked.

  “Yeah, if that closet has that crazy ass woman in it, then yes—I just ran like fuck out of it.”

  Beeber and Doug stared at me with legitimate disapproval in their expressions, and Violet too wasn’t pleased, and she walked away and sat on the pool’s edge and dangled her feet in the water. I left the nerds behind and went over and sat down beside her in the hopes that I might try and make her believe me.

  “Violet, I swear to you that everything I just said is true.”

  “So, what were you doing in her bedroom?”

  “I took the wrong door when I left the upstairs bathroom.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No, it’s true, and I was only up there in the first place because every fucking bathroom on the lower floor was occupied.”

  She stared at me for a moment, and her expression softened.

  “Well, I believe that part, because Lux and I came upstairs for the very same reason.”

  “And obviously the rest happened just as I said, because if I had actually wanted a blowjob, I wouldn’t have gone scurrying into the hallway with my boner waving in the wind.”

  “Speaking of which—if you were indeed an unwilling participant, then what the hell was that massive boner all about?” she asked.

  “The only answer I have is that fucking Tag Junior had a mind of his own and was a willing co-conspirator in that sexual assault. Honestly, I’m just thankful that you and Lux arrived when you did or that hellcat might have dragged me back into her fucking room.”

  We were quiet a moment, then Violet laughed out loud.

  “Something funny?” I asked.

  “I can’t help imaging you trying to pull your boner free of her mouth and making a run for it.”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t pretty.”

  “So, how long did it take to break free?” she asked.

  “Maybe eight or ten seconds, but it’s hard to be certain—time slows down during stressful moments like that.”

  “So, you were like a rodeo rider on a bucking bronco.”

  “Honestly, I felt more as though I were dragging a pit bull across the floor—with my dick as the leash.”

  “Jesus, how’s your dick?”

  “I’m lucky everything is still attached, though I’m thinking we should test it out to make it sure it still works properly.”

  “Nice try, but I think someone needs a shower first.”

  “That wasn’t a no.”

  “True,” she said, with a hint of a smile.

  Just then, Melissa appeared, and her bathing suit top was now firmly back in place, and both of her breasts were properly concealed within its confines. Doug, of course, immediately went and sat with her, as he was obviously hoping to incur the same treatment I had experienced minutes earlier. To be honest, I wished him luck, as he didn’t get out much, so scoring with the opposite sex was therefore kind of a statistical unlikelihood. It was a shame too, because he was a nice guy and decent looking, but ultimately it was his poor decision making process that was very likely the reason behind his having a hard time finding a date—case in point being that he was on a tropical island, rife with lovely females, and he chose to sit indoors and play D&D with Beeber and Rachel.

  The barbecue continued on into the evening, and I looked out over the ocean to see the sun was getting close to dropping over the horizon, thus bringing to an end yet another day in paradise. People were beginning their official goodbyes, and I looked around to gather up my troops for the drive back to the resort but noticed that Doug was nowhere to be seen. A moment later, he appeared from the house, and he was walking taller than I had ever seen him in all the years we had known each other. Sweet mother of God. He must have gotten together with the hellcat Melissa Williams.

  “Ready to adjourn to your D&D game, Doug?” I asked.

  “Yeah, if there’s time.”

  “What do you mean if there’s time?” Beeber asked.

  “Beebs, give Doug a break. He obviously just got laid—probably for the first time in a long time.”

  “Doubtful,” Beeber responded.

  “I’m afraid Finn’s correct, Beebsy,” Doug said.

  “Wait a minute. Who did you hook up with?”

  “Melissa Williams, of course.”

  “Dude, after she tried to give Finn a blowjob?”

  “Well, technically yes but…”

  “But nothing. Now you’ve basically had Finn’s dick in your mouth.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Did you kiss her?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “But nothing. How’s he taste?” Beeber asked with a scrutinizing gaze.

  “Like you don’t already know,” Doug responded.

  “Easy, Beebsy. Give Doug a break and let him enjoy his post coital bliss in peace.”

  “Yeah, and you’re being incredibly gross,” Rachel said.

  “Oh, I’m just giving Doug shit. He knows that deep down I’m happy for him. I’d never be legitimately mean to my favorite Dungeon Master.”

  “There are just so many ways I could respond to that statement,” I said.

  The nerds quieted back down, then we walked over and thanked Frank for an excellent barbecue before saying goodbye and mounting up in the suburban. I had a quick nostalgic look around and lived out my last moments as the fabled Magnum P.I. before putting it in drive and heading out the winding dirt driveway of Robin’s Nest. We reached the gate, and it opened automatically, and, as we headed north down the road, Violet’s phone beeped, and she looked down to see that she had a text.

  “Shit,” she said, a second later.

  “What is it?”

  “I haven’t seen my parents in a few days, and they want me to come by for a visit.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing, except my dad wants to meet you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re working together. I told you how protective he can be.”

  “Well, I’d be happy to meet your parents.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, just so you know—my father can be a little intimidating.”

  “It’s OK, I always get along with people’s parents.”

  “All right, but remember that you willingly agreed to this. I didn’t force you.”

  “I know.”

  “And we have three witnesses to back me up.”

  “True,” Rachel, Doug, and Beeber said from the back seat.

  “It’s just a dinner. What could possibly happen?” I asked.

  My words didn’t appear to comfort Violet, and she had a pensive expression on her face as she turned to face the long and winding road ahead.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Meet the Parents

  I DROVE BACK to the resort to drop off the nerds as well as freshen up by taking a shower and brushing my teeth. Feeling a whole lot better, Violet and I headed south back towards Waikiki, where Violet’s parents lived just east of Diamond Head on a lovely piece of ocean front property. Their place wasn’t opulent or as big as some of the surrounding homes, but it was very homey and boasted a spectacul
ar ocean view. I parked in the driveway in front of an open garage and peered inside to see a white Toyota Camry and, more interestingly, a silver Nissan GTR. The GTR was Nissan’s entry into the world of super cars and one I had been thinking about buying after my recent financial windfall.

  “Whose GTR?” I asked.

  “My dad’s, of course.”

  Regardless of what Violet had said to try and scare me, I was already thinking that her dad was a pretty cool customer. The GTR was an especially badass ride, because it was relatively affordable, yet was in the performance category of cars such as Ferraris and Lamborghinis. That meant its owners generally cared more about performance than prestige, and that, in turn, meant that I already respected Violet’s father.

  We exited the suburban and entered the tidy garage to find her father standing in front of his GTR. He smiled and came over to introduce himself, and I could now understand Violet’s trepidation, as he was an imposing figure. He was about six foot two, muscular, and had the tan complexion and good looks of a full blooded Hawaiian, which was something of a rarity after so many years of new residents migrating to the islands and steadily diffusing the native population.

  “I’m Edward Kalili. Nice to meet you,” he said, holding out his rather large hand.

  “Tag Finn. Nice to meet you too, sir,” I said, taking his massive paw in my hand.

  I was happy he had a normal secure handshake and didn’t attempt to crush my digits.