Chapter 4

A wonderful beginning to our time in Waikiki, the end turned out badly.

We spent a week enjoying each other's company and the company of my friends. Penny was the only friend who didn't warm to her instantly, but not because of jealousy. In fact she had begun a successful relationship with a man her age, an English professor and her biggest fan. He had gone to see the play Penny and I had acted in opening night and proceeded to attend over half of the performances, greeting her with flowers once he got up his nerve to meet her after the play and won her over. The fact that she had kids proved a bonus, because he had ended an unhappy and unfruitful marriage a few months before in part because the woman refused to have any.

Penny resisted liking Vy because of Vy's difference, her tattoos, her punk airs, which Penny had never encountered before. Her brilliant young son Todd broke her resistance because he was a fan. Having her mother being a deejay on KFAI, though she performed while he slept, had made him want to listen to the station, and it turned him on to punk rock and "to molt." Minutes after I had introduced Vy to Penny, my next door neighbor, her son came downstairs and recognized the punk diva instantly. He hopped up the stairs two at a time and came back down with her albums to sign. Penny saw the beauty in this peculiar woman from how quickly Vy calmed her son down and talked to him and listened to him. She became charmed.

One of the highlights of that week occurred when we revisited the locations of my first date with Kitty. We came prepared, wearing bathing suits under our clothes. Her one piece black suit did wonders for my libido when she revealed it at the Manoa falls.

The relief came when we skinny dipped and made love at the falls by Kitty's parents' house. Seeing her naked in that most pastoral setting became an odd and magical moment. When I got out of the pool before her and watched her dive under the water and rise up and walk out, the water pouring off and glistening on her skin, I saw her as an immortal creature, a lush anthropomorphic image of the nature around her and creativity within her somehow joined into one heavenly being.

I stared in awe until she pushed me onto my back on the blanket and sucked my limp penis erect in seconds and sent it deep into the intense heat of her cunt, riding me slowly for several minutes, the waterfall crashing behind her, the sun glowing on her pale flesh where the shadow play of foliage moving as the trees moved in the wind didn't interrupt it. We kissed and sucked and lavished our love on each other until we screamed out orgasms.

I showed her where the Murakami's, Kitty's stoic parents lived when we returned to the car, and she threatened to visit just to see how they'd react to her. Tempted myself, but neither of us succumbed.

The lovely, loving week ended when she asked how I managed to afford traveling to Japan and the new house, nothing huge, just a two story, two bedroom affair, but in a prime location. Why she hadn't asked earlier I don't know. Perhaps she feared the answer. When I told her, it seemed all her fears had been confirmed if not increased.

"You're living off the wealth of a dead pedophile monster!" she shouted. We sat in my living room late at night listening to Penny's show.

"What would you have me do?" I asked.

She stared at me for a minute. Then she slapped me hard across my face.

"You selfish prick. Give it away. Give it to charity, to children's hospices that have to deal with the fucked up minds your beneficent monster created, to public defenders that have to defend the criminals the monster created. I should have seen it. With Deidre, who almost killed you for her fucked up ideas and then you end up her paid stud, too greedy for her hot body and her condo to make sure she paid for her crimes. All the lies you've told to make a buck. Not for the victims to get revenge, but for your own pocket. You don't give a shit about those victims or about the villains who had their own reason for fucking with the system, for getting revenge on scumbags who fucked up their lives like your sugar daddy did to innocent children. All you see is the bag of gold at the end of the case, not the people you fucked up to get it. Unless you get to fuck them. Then you care. You care about their fine pussy fucking your big dick you dickhead. Or their pretty mouths swallowing your bitter, shitty little cum. I thought you were perfect. You are perfect. A perfect asshole. Buy me a ticket to Eugene NOW! One last time you can use your 'Uncle's' slimy money on me, and that's it."

"It's late," I said softly, fighting tears.

"I know its late scumbag. In a couple hours it will be early. Then you drive me to the airport; buy me my ticket and leave me alone!"

When I got home after the longest three hours of my life without a word shared between us and she kept as separate as possible except in the car while still being in proximity to me, I wrote her a letter. It began with dark steam of consciousness writing, letting whatever thoughts rushed through my brain end up on paper. If she could get through that barrage of self-loathing and kept reading she would read about my love for her. I wrote about our trysts, from meeting her to our last time together. Then I told her what it was like anticipating seeing her and how I felt after she left each of the trysts except the last, which I already wrote. Finally I told her that though she had been right about my selfishness I didn't think it would change much, but her fierce tirade may change me without my noticing. In a sense I was trying to express the nature of our relationship, that we enjoyed each other and respected each other, and the deepest part of that respect allowed us to be who we were and not attempt to change each other.

Not knowing what to expect from her, when she called three days later having just finished my letter I couldn't have been more surprised. If I had any expectations at all it wasn't that. I imagined her tearing it up or sending it back unopened or laughing her way through it.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice low and sad as soon as I said "Hello."

"Why would you be sorry? You were right about me," I replied.

"That may be, but you were right about respecting who we are. I stepped way over the line."

"Look, Vy, I know how strong and vital and uncompromising you hold your opinions. You are the least compromised person I know. You have the most extraordinarily beautiful soul, and much of its beauty comes from your amazing integrity. Maybe it was inevitable you exploded with hatred for my compromised life, for a career based on lies, for..."

"But you never lie to me, Joe. Never. I know I will never say that with complete faith in the truth of it with any man I will ever meet again. I will never find a man willing to accept me without any restraint or jealousy or expectations trying to fold me into their version of who I am. I need you Joe."

"That's insane. Since we met two years ago, we've spent less than two months together."

"And how great were those two months?"

"Great."

"Perfect."

"Except..."

"I know. That's why I want to see you NOW!" After her sad low voice, her yelling of the last word startled me. I couldn't help but laugh. "What's so funny?"

"You. You are such a punk rock diva."

"And how many punk rock divas have you known biblically or otherwise?"

"You're the only one."

"So how do you know how a punk rock diva acts?"

"I don't, but I do know without a doubt they are not like you."

"How's that?"

"There is no one in any profession, no one who has ever walked this earth that is as extraordinary as you."

After a pause, returning to her low voice, but without the sadness, she said, "Thanks. How soon can you get here?"

"I'm not sure, Vy."

"Do you want to?"

"Of course, but I've been trying to get back to work, having been away from it for a couple weeks. I've actually been working pretty hard since you left. I needed the distraction, and all the paper work for those businesses I inherited from my slimeball Uncle piled up.

"Once I got through all those, Sandy got us a skip trace we're in the middle of now. He's a particularly malevolent dude. How he got out on bail is anyone's guess. We're guessing he's got some major underworld clout, like he's an enforcer, but got busted on some penny ante drug thing, his first arrest since he became an adult.

"Anyway, we're thinking he's no smarter than the usual street thug, so we're hoping to catch him at his girlfriend's apartment. The girl's more his punching bag than his friend, and she's decided to cooperate. The percentage of the reward helped, but it actually could have hurt, because she teetered on feeling guilty for being a paid informant. Fortunately she decided it would sweeten the revenge as well as give her some much needed money, the asshole keeping her on a pretty slim financial leash, just enough to keep her off the streets. So I'm playing her john tonight, hoping to freak out the asshole and get him vulnerable."

"I figured there had to be sex in there somewhere," said Vy with a laugh. "I've seen the scars," she continued seriously. "You're not planning on adding to them are you?"

"We've got it well planned. The reward money's substantial enough to add another PI to the trap, and he's a sharp SOB. We'll be fine. So if it works out, I'll be done with the shithead by tomorrow morning. I'll call you then."

"Anytime. I don't care. As soon as you know, call me. I need you here."

"I'll be there. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine Joe, except I have this image in my mind of me beating you silly with my words and thus taking away a lovely week in paradise with a lovely man. I need that week back Joe. I need you here. I need to look into your eyes. I've never been this needy for you. At least not when I'm sane."

"I'll call."

"Thanks."

Our villain finally arrived at his girlfriend's around three in the morning stoned out of his gourd and horny as a dog smelling the pheromones of a bitch in heat. The air had been perfumed with the sweet tantalizing odor of sex since his girlfriend Mila and I had spent several hours waiting for his arrival playing prostitute and john.

Despite the purpose of our encounter weighing heavily on both of us, especially Mila, we spent the four hours getting to know each other. Thinking he wouldn't arrive right away, instead of getting naked immediately as most johns are expected to do, this being a pseudo john situation anyway, we talked, both of us pleasantly surprised how easily words flowed.

Mila seemed particularly affected by the conversation. No man had ever treated her with the kind of respect I showed, listening to her every word, appreciating her stories and her incites, which, though spoken in a rough Pidgin English that somehow became less rough and less Pidgin over time, proved quite insightful.

The woman was a walking contradiction, a complex of oddly fitting parts. Essentially Northeastern European in ethnic origin, obviously very Caucasian despite her rich tan, her blonde hair and blue eyes gave that away, yet out of her mouth came this thick Pidgin. And frail in build, her lover, a large dark native Hawaiian would dwarf her.

Stories moved from me to Mila to Sandy hiding in the closet, though her contribution necessarily ended after an hour since she needed to be unheard in case the asshole arrived, but before that conversation flowed with remarkable ease, especially considering how different our lives had been.

When time came to enter into full prostitute/john roles, I could smell the odor of sexual interest emanating from Mila's pussy. I made a silent thanks to myself that I had placed the stack of twenties on the dresser the moment we arrived, because we no longer transacted business, but began the first sexual encounter of two lovers.

Her life working the beach at Waikiki in whatever minimum wage or less job she could find had bronzed her skin, so her pear shaped breasts looked all the larger in pale contrast to her torso. Her ass too stood out. They also contrasted with a thin frame so that though petite she looked voluptuous when naked. Her skin felt soft and supple.

Enjoying her texture and her shape, my hands and lips she also enjoyed. By the time my lips reached the space beneath her crinkly dirty blonde pubic hair, she was on fire. Within a couple of minutes she had a violent orgasm.

Once that subsided, after demanding I lay on my back, she threatened to jump onto my naked cock with her flowing pussy. Luckily I had my condom packets sitting beside my gun under the pillow. Grabbing a packet with one hand, my other hand kept her from straddling my cock, pushing reluctantly against her firm stomach, knowing riding bare back had dangerous potential for both of us. She giggled, grabbed the packet, swallowed my cock with her mouth for a couple strokes, and rolled on the protection.

When I penetrated, I enjoyed a relatively easy journey into her depths with enough resistance to create a pleasant friction, but obviously she'd been plowed by a thicker tool. I let her ride me until she achieved a second orgasm, than used her lightness to lift her while I sat up.

Rocking against each other, we kissed and she cooed, telling me how much she loved fucking me. She had never cum so hard before. Her orgasms had never been so intense. It wasn't some whorish ego inflation. I could see the tears in her eyes. But being compared to only one man in her life who treated her horribly when he wasn't fucking her to orgasm with his big cock might not make me a great stud. No man had dared seduce her with Kaoli looming in the shadows.

We kept the subtle rocking going for awhile, talking quietly between pauses of sensual pleasure. She told me all about her dangerous, scary boyfriend. We presumed he enforced some organized crime group though it hadn't been proved, but she told me and Sandy, who wrote it down, that her lover was a thug and murderer of the highest order. I knew some of his associates by reputation and some of his victims from brief articles in the paper dealing with gang violence and unsolved murders.

"What are you telling me?" I asked, stopping the rocking.

"No one informs on him or his shithead friends."

"Because they will die?"

"Uh-huh."

"But what about you?"

"Who else is there? What else have I got? I just don't give a shit anymore. I got no kids from him thank god; all my family has disowned me; all my friends are gone. All because I was a star struck kid falling in love and being loved by the neighborhood stud. The neighborhood slime more like it. Fuck him. And fuck me for being such an idiot, for considering him some kind of ragged prince. I was so stupid."

"Maybe, but you're not stupid now, and you weren't before. You can't stay here."

"I told you I don't care," she said, falling back on the bed, our genitals still conjoined. "Just fuck me. Cum in me. Make me cum. At least I'll have had one loving night in my pathetic life."

"I can protect you," I said leaning over her, stroking inside her steadily, staring into her eyes.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I can," I said, stroking deeper and harder into her. Her slim legs hooked around my ass, pulling me even deeper.

"But why?" she moaned.

"I like you," I moaned back.

"Me too," she groaned.

"A lot," I groaned back.

"Me too," she intoned. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. That's good. Keep going. Oh god. Too good. Don't stop. Don't stop."

"I'm close," I muttered, fighting to wait for her. She squeezed her nipple and thrashed at her clit. My hands clung to her hips, pulling her against me, her pussy lips surrounding the base of my cock as we slammed against each other. The slapping of flesh and our heavy breaths filled the apartment. We concentrated on bringing her a third orgasm.

"Mmmmmmm," she squeezed out of her mouth an elongated tone rising higher until she went stiff and let go while I pummeled her insides with quick hard jabs until I held her tight against me and my whole body pulsed with the pulsing of my cock as it pumped my cum into the safe jacket deep inside Mila. Too intense, I couldn't help falling on top of her lithe petite body. She was too overcome with her own orgasm to notice my weight for a few seconds. Everything for both of us happened inside her pussy as it thrummed and felt the throbs of my cock. Finally she realized my weight.

"I can't breath," she said. I quickly toppled to my side.

"Sorry," I said.

"No problem. I've had worse," she said, looking up at me, her eyes loving. Her hands held each side of my head as she lifted her body up enough for her mouth to meet mine, my cock slipping out of her. I quickly moved my hand down to save the condom from remaining inside and spilling my sperm. Once saved, I wrapped my arms around her lean body and hugged her. The lips too relaxed for a prolonged kiss, we shared several soft and gentle ones.

"I'm glad Kaoli didn't decide to come while we made love," she whispered.

"I might have been a little distracted," I said.

"That would suck, but what I mean is I would hate the fucker even more for taking away the best fuck of my life. So what were you saying about protecting me?"

"Oh ... uh ... I'm leaving for the Mainland tomorrow to visit my girlfriend in Eugene, Oregon." She began laughing hysterically. "What's so funny?"

"I imagined some scheme of yours to hide me away in some dungeon, using me as your own private sex toy. Not that I'd mind. Go on."

"You could come with me."

"To meet your girlfriend? Won't she be jealous?"

"I ... uh ... we don't believe in jealousy. We don't see each other all that often, once or twice a year. It's an unusual relationship."

"You're looking for a threesome?"

"No. She doesn't swing that way as far as I know."

"So she's going to meet us at the airport with your cum still dripping out of me?"

"She'd get a kick out of that."

"She would?"

"She loves to hear about my ... uh ... conquests."

"So I'm just another conquest," she said edgily.

"No ... well yes ... because we did fuck ... but you were willing ... it's not like a conquest like I conquered you, like you were unwilling, because as far as I can tell you were, even though I didn't know if we'd actually fuck, because..."

Her hysterical laughter had an encore. "You really are weird. And you're right, I wasn't sure we'd play it for real. I'm glad we did, my Conquistador. To tell you the truth, when we set this up, I kind of hoped."

"Me too," I said.

"Of course. You're a man. It would be insulting if you didn't. So you want me to go with you to Eugene, Oregon. Then what?"

"My girlfriend could help you get a job, and we could set you up with a place to live."

"And leave all this?" asked Mila.

"It's not paradise, but it's a really nice..."

"I don't care."

"You don't want to go?"

"Are you kidding? I don't care if it's the toilet of Washington State. All I've seen of this world is this little rock out in the middle of nowhere. And so far, it doesn't look all that great even if it is paradise. One person's heaven is another person's hell I guess. So I'm there, living in Eugene."

"If you want to get this fucker, we could set it up, get your deposition there. If you needed to appear in court, we'd get you the best protection. I have a lot of connections. Even the telephone conversations would be untraceable. I have a friend who could set it up so a trace would lead to Podunk New Jersey."

"And when would we fuck?"

"Um ... well..."

A mellower, though enthusiastic laugh revealed what she admitted in words, "I'm pulling your chain, Joe. But..." She reached down and pulled my penis.

"So that's not a condition?"

"It should be."

"We'll see."

Mila revitalized my cock with fingers and mouth. We joined together for a leisurely, side to side love making session for the next hour, never quite climaxing but enjoying the contact. It escalated into a full on, no holds barred, hard thrusting missionary style fuck, her legs held up against her torso, both of us cursing like truck drivers when the door opened.

A fraction of a second later, Sandy, naked as us, had Kaoli face down on the floor. Her nakedness had been an added and opposite distraction to the angry distraction of seeing a pile of money on the table and his girlfriend enthusiastically fucking a john.

Once Sandy had the large Polynesian villain down, I helped keep him there while Sandy handcuffed him. Jimmy, our partner for the evening as it turned out wasn't needed for the capture, but he got a bonus seeing Sandy and Mila naked.

Actually Jimmy ended up useful in helping Sandy get the big thug back to jail while I stayed with Mila. Packing up her stuff proved to be short work. She essentially lived in bikinis and cover ups, so her clothes filled a couple of pillow cases. Her toiletries were also sparse. Except for skin cover for her bruises, she wore little make-up so they filled a plastic shopping bag. Not ever peripatetic, she never owned a suit case. As we left the premises, I asked about the landlord, and she said, "Fuck him."

After sharing a short nap at home, I called Vy, and she didn't let me off the line until I gave her a blow by blow description of my night with Mila. Halfway through the story, Mila had awakened from my bed and coaxed my penis into full erection. Once achieved, she covered it with a condom, straddled me and slid it in. The distraction elongated the story as my cock elongated ... you get the picture. Vy insisted I describe the current actions as well, so I interjected them with the near past.

When I climaxed, Mila having cum a couple minutes before, I barely heard Vy say, "Okay, we'll try it."

After a pause to recover my voice, I asked, "Try what?"

"I want to watch you fuck Mila," said Vy.

"I thought you didn't like girls that way."

"I don't know. I can't say. I just want to watch you in action."

"Not a threesome?" I asked, Mila looking at me unsteadily. She seemed to be as unsure about sharing a bed with another woman as Vy.

"I don't think so. Do you think she'd let me watch?"

"I'll ask." Asking Mila about Vy being a voyeur but not a participant seemed to ease her mind.

She gave me a half smile and shyly said, "Okay." And after her smile became whole she added, "You two are weird."

Having heard Mila, Vy said with a laugh, "That we are. Call me when you get the details. I can't wait."

"Me neither," I said. We hung up.

"What did she say?" asked Mila, gingerly rising and pulling off the condom, the sad sack dangling between her fingers.

"She agreed with you."

Meeting me at the airport that night, Vy gave me a huge hug and kiss. Mila stared wide eyed. "I want some of those," she said after Vy and I released each other, pointing to a tattoo on Vy's arm.

"Cool," said Vy.

When we got to Vy's apartment, I was surprised to see a cot in her bedroom. Mila, who had been clinging to me through half the long flight, sustained her excitement, but I knew we needed sleep. Like a daughter we forced her to take a bath, both of us caressing her sexy little body, applying soap and a wash cloth sensually but not sexually and talking quietly to her.

Near the end of the bath, Vy headed to the kitchen to make us some chamomile tea. Instead of waiting for us in the kitchen her voice led us to the bedroom where she sat naked on her bed, the three mugs resting on the bedside table. Since I was the only one clothed, I stripped.

"Wow," said Mila, marveling at Vy's tattoos and as it turned out at her amazing body. "You have a killer body," was her version of it. "Can I see all the tattoos?"

As we sipped out tea, Vy modeled the tattoos for Mila, who couldn't help touching them. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Not now," said Vy.

"I know that. When they do them?"