The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey (25 page)

In back of Kolina’s tent she knelt and using the same knife, cut open a deep slash in the canvas. Kolina gasped in surprise
as Honey slipped in to join her. A finger to her lips, Honey doused the kerosene lantern and drew the girl into her arms,
kissing her passionately. Like an ice cube in the afternoon sun, the girl melted into her, pressing her full breasts against
Honey’s, as her hands explored Honey’s ass. With reluctance, Honey had to take the girl’s arms away. “Kolina,” she whispered,
“we do not have time, not even to talk. I must leave at once.”

“Leave?” the magical blonde cried softly. “Where to? How? Why?”

“Hush, please,” Honey urged. “I have every reason to believe Henri will leave me here when all of you go.”

“No… he wouldn’t,” the girl protested halfheartedly. “Would he?”

“I can’t take that risk. That’s why I’ve come to say
goodbye. I’ve spotted a light on a nearby island. I’ll make for that. It’s a lovely night for a long swim.”

“We’re over five miles from the nearest island,” Kolina cried, and threw her arms around Honey’s neck. “You’ll never make
it!”

“It’s surprising what one can do when faced with no other choices.”

Tearfully the girl’s beautiful face rose in the half-light of the outside bonfire. “How about one of the dinghies? We’ll take
one of those.”

“The dinghies are well watched. Besides, what’s this ‘we’ business?” Honey asked. “You are in no immediate danger. Once I
get free, I will be able to rescue you more effectively.”

“You won’t know where we are,” Kolina wept. “You’ll never be able to locate us! Henri will see to that.”

Honey kissed the girl’s cheek. “I promise that I will seek you out and get you away from him.”

The girl pulled back, her voice firm as she said, “I’m coming with you, and that’s final. I will not spend another night with
that horrid man.”

“Kolina, my pet,” Honey began, “I love your offer, but it is too risky. One of us has to get out of this in order to help
the other.”

“If anything should happen to you, I would never forgive myself,” Kolina said with a quavering voice. “So don’t argue. We
haven’t the time.” Abruptly she began disrobing, her womanly figure appearing briefly before being covered by an outfit similar
to Honey’s.

Before Honey could voice too many arguments against the girl’s plan, Kolina was dressed. Together they crawled out of the
tent through the back opening, and silently made their way up the steep incline behind the camp. At the top, Honey pointed
to the faint light twinkling so far
away across the black water. “It’s a good distance,” she said softly. “Still game to try?”

“More than ever,” Kolina uttered. “We’ll be there before anyone finds out we’re missing.

Honey took her by the hand and started walking her across the rough, craggy rocks. “Unfortunately our closest point of departure
is on the same side of the island where Henri and his men are picnicking.”

“You mean eating those ugly lizards? Ugh! Honestly, Honey, what will that horrible man think of next?”

As quickly as possible, the pair made their way in the near darkness toward the yellowish light of flickering torches down
by the water. Skirting the hunting party, Honey hurried Kolina through the giant boulders to the lapping water of the cove.
They began pulling off their clothes and boots, stuffing them all out of sight in a chasm in the ledge. Naked, Honey pulled
Kolina close, smothering her face in kisses and copping a quick feel of the silky skin and smooth curve of her buttocks before
releasing her. Giving Kolina a thumbs-up gesture for luck, Honey walked out hand in hand with the girl into the water, where
they struck out for the tiny speck of light on the horizon.

The sea was warm, inviting, the waves minimal and almost free from tugging tides or undertow. “Slow and easy,” Honey whispered
between strokes.

Farther and farther into the blackness they swam, away from the flickering circle of light and the boisterous group of iguana
killers.

Above, beneath, all around them was velvet darkness. If it hadn’t been for the far pinpoint of light, which never seemed to
grow any nearer than it had been when they commenced their flight, Honey would never have known which way she was heading.

After several hours, Honey began to feel an undeniable tide tugging at her legs, sweeping her along. After a few moments she
concluded that the tide was carrying them directly toward the island from which the light beckoned them. Kolina’s spirits
perked up when Honey relayed the good news.

Suddenly the sky above them was rent by a blinding flash. “A flare!” Honey cried out in alarm. “They’ve discovered we’re gone!”
Almost at once the rumble of engines could be heard across the water.

“They’re out in the boats!” Kolina gasped. “He’ll know we set off in this direction. It’s the closest point of land.”

The sound of engines drew steadily nearer, and flares periodically burst above them. From behind them, slashing searchlights
pierced the night as the boats closed in.

Pushing her screaming muscles harder, Honey set a quicker pace, pleading with Kolina not to give up. The pursuing flotilla
was so close she could hear the crews calling to each other across the water. Kolina began whimpering, and Honey felt the
cold hand of fate clutching her own throat.

Then, a miracle! Out of the blackness ahead, an unlighted craft materialized, astonishingly close and unexpectedly large.
They were so close to it, they could hear the water lapping on the wooden hull, the decks creaking in the constant rise and
fall of the sea. Honey hailed it as loudly as she dared, and almost simultaneously a rope ladder clattered down the side of
the now clearly visible fishing boat. With a cry of relief, Kolina floundered for it and grabbed hold of the ropes. Honey
had to push the girl’s sweet ass up the steep steps, and had difficulty hauling herself up, her arms and legs were so worn
out. Strong, calloused male hands grabbed her arms and lifted her aboard.

Their rescuers were a crew of four young, rugged Ecuadorian
fishermen who were struck dumb by the naked but weary mermaids they had been so lucky to land. Half drunk on brownish wine
that they quickly shared with the girls, they had been just drifting about, curious about the approaching boats. Now they
responded to Honey’s pleas in Spanish to get the boat under way without lights. Hopping eagerly to their duties, the young
brown fishermen soon had the craft moving rapidly away into the protective darkness. Wrapped in a smelly but welcome blanket,
sipping the warming, fiery homemade wine, Honey stood in the unlit pilothouse and watched the searchlights of the trio of
boats fade far behind. By her side, Kolina, also blanketed, jumped up and down excitedly at their apparently successful escape,
her zestful energies fast returning.

By the time Honey was assured that Bouscaral’s boats no longer presented a threat, all four of the squat, strongly built young
crew were pressed into the pilothouse, gaping admiringly and jabbering jubilantly at their good luck, one playing merrily
on an ancient concertina. Kolina was soon drunk on strong wine and liberation. She threw off her blanket, launching into an
impromptu dance of such playfully funny and teasing erotic sensuality that Honey had to warn her to cover up or face having
to service the four long-at-sea men. Laughingly the girl took to the suggestion with the fervor of one free at last to make
her own choices. She grabbed one of the young sailors and soon had him stripped; his hard brown body testified to his difficult
and strenuous lifestyle. His rigid harpoon was so appealing that Honey could not resist the temptation. She tossed off her
blanket and set to work thanking her rescuers properly, tugging the remaining three outside, where she had no difficulty getting
them out of their clothes and into her.

The resulting party on the poopdeck was a lustful scene
of rousing good times. Spread-eagled flat on top of the largest of the three, she took his long staff straight up the butt
while, on top of her, kneeling between both pairs of legs, the second pumped ecstatically into the most beautiful hairless
pussy he had ever even dreamed existed. The third knelt beside his lucky buddies, up close to her head, and with very little
neck strain, she was able to suck on his mast. It did not take the randy sailors long to fire their weapons, and even less
time to grow stiff again.

With the wheel lashed so the boat made a large, lazy circle, Kolina and her first mate were soon added to the quivering quartet
outside. New combinations and contortions were tried, with satisfying results. The action was fast and furious, athletic and
adventuresome. As the sailors came again and again in every possible orifice of the obliging young sea nymphs, their periods
of recovery grew longer. During these rest periods they contented themselves to sprawl on the deck, fondling their never-empty
weapons, watching the two ladies go down on each other, Honey on top, her head jerking up and down as if bobbing for apples.
The two luscious female bodies meshed perfectly, their lustrous skin catching the lantern light, creating an arousing collage
of arms and thighs, breasts and hips, asses and wide-open quiffs.

When Honey came up for air, she was pleased to see that the young crew was so ready to go again that they were doing each
other unabashedly. The homoerotic activity of their slim brown bodies reminded her of paintings an ancient Greek vases. They
were having such a good time that she hated to interrupt, but she was so tired that all she wanted to do was come once more
and fall asleep for days. Her good-natured pleas quickly brought two stalwart, ready-to-perform crewmen to her side, the other
two leaping upon Kolina.

With one in her pussy and one in her ass, her own
finger urging her lust trigger to hurry up and fire, Honey threw every last ounce of energy into her swansong. Her gyrations
and enthusiasm were so heated that the sailors were, in short order, exploding their submerged torpedoes deep into her nethermost
regions. The warm bath set off her own buttons and, with a deep cry of complete satisfaction, she eased into a tidal wave
that hurled her along its seemingly never-ending crest. Miles and miles she rode, balanced on the very lip of curling white
water, squealing with joyous release. She did not remember ever coming down, for she drifted into a deep, contented sleep
before reaching the end of the longest climax of her life.

At Lanai, the Wildon winter home on Kauai’s lush northeast coastline, he sat in a large wicker peacock chair on the cool veranda,
sipping a piña colada, watching with intense interest Barbro’s erotic harem dance. Framed by a backdrop of shimmering golden
sands, sparkling blue-green ocean, and vivid tropical flowers, she swayed and rolled her hips in time to taped Middle Eastern
music—violins, drums, ouds, bouzoukis wailing spiritedly into the late afternoon. Wearing only a filmy sarong draped low over
her wide hips, her large breasts swinging free with the sensual beat, Barbro spun gracefully, arms raised over her head, her
hands speaking their own language with a tinkling of small finger cymbals. Behind one ear, in her light blonde hair, she had
tucked a large pink hibiscus that matched the delicate hue of her nipples’ aureoles.

The music slowed, and her artistic dance evolved into an expressive collection of hip undulations. Barefoot, she
sidled closer to him, her eyes locked on his in total communication between performer and audience. Her creamy stomach rolled
and dipped, expanded and rippled, her arms liquidly shaping the fragrant air. Dirk felt like a pasha dallying away an otherwise
tediously frustrating afternoon with his favorite concubine.

On a whim he had stopped off in Cartagena, Colombia on his return flight from Spain and picked up this delectable creature,
wanting her to come with him to Hawaii to await Honey’s promised arrival with Kolina. Barbro, more than eager to accompany
him, had promptly quit her job to be free to join in the maddening vigil on the spectacular shoreline of the Garden Island.
Though the scenery could not have been more inviting or the company more appealing and satisfying, the days seemed endless
and Dirk struggled with mounting frustration and increasing anxiety. He felt impotent, helpless, useless in whatever plan
Honey had up her sleeve.

The attempt on his life in Menorca was proof positive that he and his sister were playing with fire, dealing with a desperate
and driven Bouscaral, who would stop at nothing to keep what he felt was rightfully his. More than anything, Dirk wished he
had never involved his sister in his quest to free the girl with the magical face. It was not knowing what was happening to
Honey and Kolina, not even knowing where they were that caused him greatest fear and concern. If it had not been for the quieting,
steadying influence of Barbro—a magical presence in her own right—he was positive he would have gone berserk hanging around,
waiting on razor blades for Honey to show up or send word.

Timing the swing of her tantalizing hips to the rising rhythm of the music, Barbro plucked the pink hibiscus from her hair
and incorporated it in her magnetically riveting dance. With one hand she held it in the deep valley
between her large breasts, where it bloomed like a third nipple. Slipping to the deck of the veranda, she knelt, leaning back,
shimmeying her hips until her blonde head touched the floor. Her transparent sarong barely covered her taut thighs and emphasized
the bushy mound between her legs. Her stomach fluttered, rising and falling like a storm-tossed sea, adding to the erotic
allure of her talented offering.

Dirk held the tall, ice-filled glass in his lap, cooling down his persistent boner, which it seemed he had possessed ever
since arriving back in his favorite retreat with this sensuous, giving woman. He wore only ragged cut off jeans—his usual
beach attire—and his lean frame was burned rosy pink from the golden afternoon spent snorkeling and lying in the hot sun.
His whole body tingled with heat, and the cool drink in his lap did little to dissuade his insistent bird.