The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey (26 page)

Her undulating belly, as she rose again in a glissando, beckoned to him provocatively. She tugged open the knot of her patterned
sarong and, with her back to him, took the ends of the sheer scarf and opened her arms wide, the colorful material creating
a swath of dancing butterflies across her broad tempting ass. She swung to face him, her trunk swaying like the tall palms
encircling the beach house, her breasts like large pale coconuts. She thrust her pelvis at him as the pounding beat drove
her to a more frantic pace. Her bare pussy flashed like rose petals fringed by soft blonde grass, a tropical garden of earthly
delights ready to be deflowered.

He was so concentrating on her performing pussy that he was startled to glance up and note the tears filling her eyes, seeping
from under her long lashes. Her fluid steps faltered and her dance ground to a halt. With barely controlled emotion she stood
panting before him, her full, ripe breasts pumping like bellows. Imploringly she
searched his eyes, then spun, dropping her veil completely as she ran inside the open French doors.

He rose to follow, spilling his drink, not caring, only wanting to comfort and hold her. He found her in his bedroom, her
voluptuous nude body flung face down across the king-sized waterbed, weeping profusely into her arms. He stretched out beside
her, turning her over, into him, taking her exquisite face in his hands, kissing her tenderly, murmuring, “Please don’t cry.
It’ll all work out. You’ll see…”

“We don’t even know for certain they’re alive,” she wailed.

“No, we don’t,” he replied gravely. “All we can do is hang on and pray.”

“Dammit,” she cried, “I’ve been doing just that for weeks and weeks.” She clung to him like a life raft in the open sea. “I’m
sorry,” she groaned, trying to stifle her sobs. “It just gets worse, doesn’t it? The time gets heavier. The tension becomes
unbearable. I can’t even find joy in my dancing anymore, always remembering why we’re here. And that we can’t
do
anything to help them.”

He kissed her pert nose, which, above all of her astounding physical attributes, reminded him of her young sister’s. Her soft,
pliant breasts mashed into his bare chest and he fought the desire that rose like an express elevator inside his chest. She
wrapped her long arms around him, her breath quickening, and returned his kisses with increasing passion. His bird of paradise
poked insistently into her creamy belly, struggling to be free of the confining cutoffs. Deftly her hands slid down his front
and she unbuttoned his shorts. At once his stiff bird fluttered out and into her warm palm. Almost absently she began pumping
on it, and his fingers sought out the moist folds of her pussy. Probing deeply, he brought a gasp from her
and she opened her thighs wider, granting him freer access to her buried treasures.

He was just about to ease into her when a female voice called out from the living room, “Hello, hello, anyone home?”

“Honey!” he croaked in surprise and bounded from the waterbed, leaving Barbro riding the resulting waves by herself. He trotted
into the large green and white main room full of white wicker furniture, and pulled up in joyous disbelief.

Coming to him with open arms, his sister, dressed in baggy white sailors fatigues, glanced at his free-flying bird and stopped
short, a smile tweaking her mouth. “My, my, my,” she teased. “Caught you in the act, eh?”

Behind her, Kolina, also attired in the strange naval attire, whirled to look out the open front doors, a becoming blush coloring
her magical face. Embarrassed, he stuffed his fast-dwindling pecker back into his cutoff’s and rushed to embrace Honey, sweeping
her into his arms. “How’d you get away? What happened? Was there any trouble?” he asked in quick succession, his heart overflowing
with love and relief.

“Kolina!” squealed Barbro behind him, as she dashed into the room, tugging on his short bathrobe. “My darling sister, you’re
free!” The two sisters ran into each other’s arms, shouts of joy and tears of unmitigated happiness flowing freely.

The unexpected reunion of the two sets of siblings was a confusing jumble of hurried explanations and expressions of love
and devotion. Even Dirk found himself teary-eyed, overwhelmed to be in the warm circle of his dear sister’s love once more.
Gradually the incredible story of their escape from Galapagos and their subsequent rescue by the Ecuadorian fishermen surfaced
to the point of
comprehension. Honey and Kolina had been picked up off the fishing boat by an obliging U.S. Navy supply ship—hence their sailors’
garb—and brought to within helicopter distance of Kauai. They had landed on the beach only moments before, and now danced
excitedly around the living room, congratulating themselves on their luck and thankfully praising the powers that be for their
miraculous escape. Again and again he kissed his sister, not wanting to let her out of his arms.

When the three women finally retired to the bathroom to shower and change into more appropriate attire, Dirk broke out a special
bottle of chilled Lafitte Rothschild champagne, vintage 1928, that he had been saving for just this occasion. Four glasses
were poured and ready as the trio of lovelies returned, dressed in brightly flowered, flowing Hawaiian gowns. Ceremoniously
he handed them each a full tulip glass and raised his in a toast. “To happy reunions and happy endings,” he intoned solemnly,
and sipped, his eyes wandering from happy face to happy face. He felt blessed to be surrounded by such unbelievably beautiful
ladies; each was as lovely as the next, and each glowed with a special energy befitting the moment. But the magical Kolina
was the one who caught and held his eye. Almost shyly he studied her exquisite beauty, mesmerized all the more by her intoxicating
loveliness.

The bottle of champagne was finished quickly and he popped the cork on another. The high-spirited chatterings and exclamations
continued, joined by the Rolling Stones blaring out of the top-of-the-line stereo system. Still more vintage champagne was
consumed, along with some sensational home-grown Hawaiian grass, which flourished in a bushy plot beside the secluded, slate-roofed
house, and line after line of Dirk’s top-grade coke.

By the time the sun sank behind the palms, the quartet were as high as kites on a windy March day and they had
joined forces to prepare a giant feast of celebration. The freezer was raided for pheasant and squab, the vegetable garden
provided greens and yams, the fruit trees were stripped of bananas and mangoes, nectarines and papayas. As Dirk concocted
a huge fruit salad, Honey baked the birds and vegetables in the microwave oven, and the two sisters created a fresh strawberry
pie topped with mounds of whipped cream.

The candlelit feast turned out to be as delectable as the company, and they stuffed themselves, laughing, chattering, singing,
and drinking more bottles of Rothschild’s champagne. Dirk brought out one of his cameras and began recording the joyous event
for posterity. The women’s flushed, relaxed, and breathtakingly lovely faces were a photographer’s fantasy come true, not
to mention their alluring bodies, so modestly draped in Honey’s colorful gowns. He longed for them to disrobe so he could
really get down to his true forte of nude shots, but he did not press it, knowing that all good things work out according
to their own timing. Besides, he was getting off on the trio’s interreactions, the sisterly way in which all three related
to each other, full of love and respect and good-natured kidding, as though they had grown up together. Barbro could not stop
touching her younger sister as she hung on her every word and often burst into tears of unadulterated joy.

As night deepened, stars forming a bright canopy overhead, they trailed outside in the balmy air full of sweet tropical fragrances
of gardenia and jasmine. The gentle waves on the beach at their doorstep whispered good tidings and Honey was the first to
doff her gown, running like a flash of pale moonlight into the water, laughingly calling the others to join her. Dirk watched
in stupefied delight as the Swedish sisters eagerly stripped off their long dresses and, giggling, bounced to the waves, their
high, proud breasts jiggling like Jell-O. He did not need a second invitation and immediately dropped his shorts, blissfully
unaware that his bird of paradise had taken wing and was jutting out from his groin. Only when he dove into the warm water
did he notice the drag of his hard rudder. Groaning at the unexpected tug, he flopped over on his back.

Laughing hysterically at the sight of his stiff periscope, the ladies splashed and frolicked in the waves, their luscious
bodies glistening and sparkling in the dim light reflected from the beach house. He floated near Kolina, and playfully she
made a grab for his partially submerged bird. Her fingertips just grazed it before she shrieked with uncontrollable laughter
and swam away. He dove under the surface and came up, latching on to her smooth legs, wrestling her to him.

The touch of her fair skin on his sent him into a state of righteous enjoyment. Willingly she allowed him to explore her body
beneath the water. His hands were all over her, not able to get enough as she was constantly wiggling free. He clamped his
arms around her waist and dragged her close, digging his stiff peter into her thigh. She chortled and wrapped her legs around
his hips, her mouth seeking his. For a delicious long moment they kissed, her tongue raking the inside of his mouth. He grabbed
two handfuls of her ass and ground his hips against hers. The head of his panting bird poked like a homing pigeon into her
open nest, and she writhed on his lap.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she whispered into his ear. “If it hadn’t been for you, I would never have met Honey. Or be free
of that horrid man.”

“My pleasure,” he murmured heatedly, and pushed more of his hot member into her. His long-held desire to do exactly what he
was now doing overpowered him with its strength. He let his legs drift to the sandy bottom, and
standing, trembling, holding her tightly, he sank his shaft deep into her watery vagina. She was as tight as he had imagined,
and obviously savored the sensation, for she began bouncing up and down, moaning sweet endearments into his neck.

The surrounding warm water was like an extension of her womb, and he felt as though he had crawled completely inside her.
With her magically beautiful face pressed close to his, her surprisingly large breasts floating between them, brushing and
pushing into his chest with their own rhythm, he relished the total sensuality of the moment. He fought to prolong it as long
as possible, but his buried bird had a mind of its own. Rapidly it approached its moment of truth, and he bit into the soft
flesh of her neck in exquisite agony. “Kolina, Kolina,” he groaned, and pumped faster and faster, rising toward the ultimate
goal with incredible speed.

He came with such force that it blew him off his feet, and they fell into the waves, going completely under as he detonated
into her wet warmth. Sputtering, gasping for air, they surfaced, still locked together, and he felt her contractions pushing
her own climax. Eyes wide with bliss, she flung her arms over her blonde head and floated on her back, still joined to him,
her love channel filling now with her own fluids, her breasts rising from the water like emerging islands.

Realizing at last that they were not alone, Dirk glanced sheepishly over at the other pair to see if they had noticed the
nocturnal activity in the moonlit water. He need not have worried. Honey was so wrapped up in the warm caresses of Barbro
that she was enveloped in her own pleasures, completely unaware of everything except the tasty dish in her arms. The sea around
them was frothy with their rapid underwater movements. Soon he could hear the unmistakable grunts and groans of a mutual
climax and he felt at peace, knowing that his sister was getting hers too.

The deliciously weary foursome eventually drifted out of the water, across the sand, and up onto the wide veranda to dry themselves
and sip more champagne. The night was still, except for the lapping waves that had brought so much enjoyment to all of them.
Seeing the three women sprawled so gracefully nude on the wicker fan chairs, Dirk grabbed his camera and began snapping pictures
of their wonderfully vibrant bodies. Each one personified perfection in her own way: Honey with her alabaster skin, amazingly
full breasts, and a pussy devoid of hair; Barbro with her tightly packed dancer’s form, her wide hips, and enticing, firm
thighs; and Kolina with her angelic face and voluptuous woman’s body. Individually each would have been a masterpiece; together
they were a surfeit of splendors, and it took considerable concentration on his part to keep his mind on the lens settings
for the extremely low available light. He completed a roll of film and urged them softly into the house, where he would have
more light. Without a murmur of protest they followed his lead into his bedroom and draped themselves fetchingly on his waterbed.

Coiled together like three muses, the two genuine blondes and the bogus brunette were a single meshing of languid, relaxed
bodies. He slipped a new roll of film into his Nikon F3 and began to snap some extremely hot shots as the fair trio entertained
their exclusive photographer, their exaggerated poses and emphasized eroticism growing increasingly more realistic.

Suddenly a harsh voice broke into their sanctuary. “
Bon soir
.”

The ladies screamed as one, and Dirk whirled in astonishment just as Henri Bouscaral marched into the room. “What the fuck?”
Dirk growled, and flung himself
up off the waterbed. He could hear footsteps approaching from the living room, and fully expected to see Bouscaral’s two henchmen
appear in the doorway.

Instead, a vision of silver-headed loveliness materialized—a mature, exquisitely dressed, and bejeweled woman with a regal,
aristocratic bearing. She smiled graciously at the confused tangle of nude flesh on the bed. “Good evening, all. Please forgive
our unannounced intrusion upon your festivities. I came as soon as I could.”