Copyright 2004

Preface:

During my recent vacation on Maui, I picked up the idea for this little story, and managed to get it back to the Mainland, in spite of Homeland Security AND the agricultural inspectors!

For those of you unfamiliar with things Hawaiian: The Island of Maui is actually composed of two volcanic peaks connected by a narrow isthmus of land. The larger, southern peak, is the Haleakala volcano (Ha-LEY-ah-ka-LAH NOT holly-ACH-ah-lah). From sea level, it rises to just over ten thousand feet. Most resorts on the island are on its west coast, as is the port town of Lahaina. Kihei, Wailea, and Makena are all located on the western shore at the foot of Haleakala, while Lahaina, Kaanapali, etc, are on the western side of the northern peak.

To the west of southern Maui is the island of Kaho'olawe. (Until very recently this small island was used for bombing practice by the US military. Efforts are currently underway to clean it up and restore native plants and wildlife, but tourism is not allowed, as there are still any number of undiscovered munitions, some live, scattered about the island.)

Between Maui and Kaho'olawe is the tiny island of Molokini. Molokini is the crescent shaped partial rim of another volcanic caldera, and is a favorite dive spot.

North of Kaho'olawe, off the western coast of northern Maui, is the small Island of Lana'i (LAH-na-EE not lah-NYE).

A Hawaiian spear fishing sling is kind of like a slingshot for a fishing spear. The simplest models consist of a hollow, tube-like handle with an attached elastic band, usually surgical tubing. The spear is long and slender and usually either barbed or split into two or three smaller skewers at the business end. The shaft of the spear is inserted through the handle and fitted to the tubing. Holding the handle with one hand, the fisherman draws back the spear and the rubber tubing, releasing them to propel the spear into the fish.

And, oh yeah, since Hawaiian names actually mean something, long ones don't get shortened unless the short form also means something, usually something pertaining to the original meaning.

Got that? Okay, on with the story...

Kaho'olawe was already bathed in sunlight as I dropped my fins on the sand. Molokini was almost hidden against its bulk, while Lana'i was a shadow on the northern horizon. I figured the timing was perfect. By the time I got my mask adjusted and waded out past the mild surf to put on my fins, the sun would be just about ready to pop up above the shoulder of Haleakala.

I surveyed the lava flows at each end of Makena beach. The southernmost looked more impressive above water, but I'd found the smaller flow at the northern end of the beach to be a better dive. The coral seemed more alive and sea life abounded in the natural crevices and grottoes formed when the molten lava flowed into the sea some hundreds of years ago.

I was a little surprised to see another snorkel already making its way toward the seaward end of the northern flow, but I could live with it. It was a big body of water and one snorkeler wasn't likely to cross my path or flail me with his fins the way the dabblers and paddlers often did during the day.

I waded beyond what little surf there was and squatted in the warm, tropical waters to don my fins. Ducking my head under water to ensure a good seal with my mask, I dipped a little sea water into the mask. I had found that if I kept a little water in my mask, all I needed to do to clear fogged lenses was roll my head back and forth a bit.

With the snorkel fitted between my lips, I started a leisurely paddle toward the sea. The trade winds were blowing up enough of a chop that I had to occasionally clear water out of my snorkel. With the little valve beneath the mouthpiece, it was a simple matter to reach up and block the end of the tube with a thumb while blowing into the snorkel, expelling water and air alike.

When I got to where the water was between twenty and thirty feet deep, I raised my head to look around for the other snorkeler. About fifty yards away, a lovely pair of bare buttocks suddenly humped into the air, followed closely by a pair of slender brown legs, ending in small, bare feet. I watched as they slipped gracefully beneath the waves, thinking that it must have been an awfully skimpy suit she wore, then, figuring I was far enough away that we wouldn't get in each other's way, I started hyperventilating in preparation for making my own dive.

It's an incredible experience to glide along the bottom in crystal clear water and watch the sea creatures in their vicious cycle of daily existence. It looks so serene, until you realize that almost everything in the ocean is carnivorous, and that a lot of what we find so strange and beautiful in the ocean's creatures are primarily means of predation or survival.

I equalized the pressure in my ears and propelled myself along with my fins, using my hands mostly to steer.

A small Moray, about two feet long, glided sinuously between rocks and coral, darting suddenly under the lip of a lava outcropping to come away with a small crab in its jaws. Brightly colored fish, most of which I couldn't even begin to name, darted here and there. They ranged in size from tiny slivers to four or five pounders.

Finally feeling the burning in my lungs, I allowed my bouyancy to carry me to the surface. As my head broke the waves I expelled my hoarded air through the snorkel to clear it of sea water. I paddled lazily, regaining my breath, and raised my head to look for the other diver. She was a little closer, but still well clear of me, and was doing the same as I - looking around for other divers. We acknowledged each other with an exchange of hand waving, and returned to our underwater world.

I had just popped to the surface after my fourth or fifth dive when I heard screaming from nearby. I looked, and sure enough, the other diver seemed to be in some kind of trouble. With the fins and an overhand stroke, it took only moments to reach her side. She had spit out the mouthpiece of her snorkel and was clumsily treading water. I ducked my mask under to see if she was fouled in something.

It was only then that I realized she was naked beneath the waves. I might not have noticed anything but that slender, curvaceous body and the cloud of long black hair trailing behind, had she not been treading water so oddly - using only hands and one leg. I looked closely at the stationary foot and noticed a number of slender black spines sticking out of its sole.

Raising my head, I dropped the mouthpiece of my snorkel and asked, "Sea Urchin?"

She gave me an agonized nod. "Yeah!"

Since I was wearing fins and she wasn't, I was able to keep us both afloat. I dumped the water from her snorkel, helping support her with one hand, and put the mouthpiece back in her mouth. It would be easier for her to breathe that way, and she wouldn't have to worry about keeping her head so far out of the water. I replaced and cleared my own snorkel and turned my back to her.

She got the message and draped her arms over my shoulders, a fishing spear sling hanging from one wrist, but no spear in sight. I suppose I could have used a rescue carry - swimming on my side with my arm across her chest, but piggyback seemed the quickest way to get her ashore, especially since she had the snorkel and I didn't need to worry about keeping her head out of the water. Her weight pushed me down a little, but not much, and my snorkel stayed pretty dry, though I had to clear it more frequently.

I prefer to take my time when swimming in the ocean, conserve my energy, and let the surge of waves help me get where I'm going, but this time I felt a sense of urgency, and stroked toward the beach as fast as I could. I was glad to have the fins on my feet as they drove us shoreward at a good clip, despite the extra drag of her body. She helped by keeping her feet together and letting them trail behind me, above my churning legs.

Despite the urgency of the situation, I couldn't help but be conscious of the soft warmth of her breasts against my bare back, nor, occasionally, the soft brush of pubic hair above the elastic band of my swim trunks. Mentally shaking my head, I tried to put the thoughts those touches aroused out of my mind, with only moderate success. Certainly, the tent in my swim trunks was creating more drag than I needed at the moment.

When we reached shallow water, I slipped my fins off and handed them to her. Her body was surprisingly light as I carried her through the surf line, thanking every diety I could think of that she couldn't see my crotch. Light or not, the extra weight made the walk up the beach through the soft, dry sand a bit of a chore. A couple of times, her hair dragged in the sand as I stumbled up the beach. She had left a mesh bag among the rocks and I let her snag it as we went by. When we got to my stuff, I placed her as gently as I could onto the tatami mat I had unrolled to keep my stuff off the sand. I helped her slip a flowered shift from the bag over her head and raised her body enough to let it slip past her hips.

I was getting worried about the apparent weakness she showed. Had the poison of the Sea Urchin's secondary spines had that much effect on her slight body? I thought to try pulling the spines but there was no way I'd be able to get the finer spines that actually contained the poison, so I rushed getting into my flip-flops and throwing on a t-shirt. I tossed my fins and both snorkel/mask sets into her bag and put it in her lap.

"Sorry..." she said weakly as I lifted her again, leaving the mat behind, and made my way through the tree line to my rental car. I had to be careful as I placed her in the passenger seat, not to bump the red, swollen mass of her left foot.

"Clinic..." she said, "South Kihei Road. By ABC."

I had seen the place she was talking about, and in my worry at her deteriorating condition, I fear I broke a number of traffic laws and pissed off a lot of otherwise easygoing drivers.

When I carried her into the reception area, a matronly Hawaiian lady took one look and said, "Bring her around here, sir!"

Sea Urchin stings are not new news in Hawaii, and she ran a basin full of warm, almost hot water as I placed my charge on the examination table. The nurse/receptionist gently placed the affected foot in the basin, drawing a moan of protest from the lovely young lady.

"I know it's hot, dear." the nurse said solicitously, "but you got to soak, okeh? That hot watah kill the poison quick."

"Okay, Auntie." she replied, taking in a hissing breath as the hot water enveloped her foot.

Since nobody told me anything different, I pulled up a chair while the nurse went to find a doctor.

"Hi," my patient smiled weakly, "I'm Alamea (she pronounced it 'Ah-lah-MEY-uh')."

"Oh, hey!" I was a little surprised that she spoke to me, and I guess it must have showed "I'm Dan! Pleased to meet you!"

"Um, Alamea?" I said, curiosity finally getting the better of me, "Do you usually go spear fishing in the nude?"

She laughed tiredly before replying, "No, but I thought it would be nice to get some fresh fish for my table today. I didn't have a suit with me and didn't think any of the tourists would be out that early. I had my eye on a nice big one, too! Guess I got careless, and didn't realize how close I was to the rocks behind me. I was just getting set to spear him when my foot kicked the rock and, obviously, the Sea Urchin! I missed the fish, lost the spear, and wound up with all these spines in my foot! Stupid!"

She pounded a fist onto the padding of the table.

"Yes it was, Alamea!" a silver haired, brown-skinned man entered, draped with a stethoscope, followed closely by the nurse.

"I know, Uncle!" the patient replied.

"Hi," the doctor said, turning to me with outstretched hand, "I'm Doctor Keawe ('Kay-AH-vey'). Thanks for helping my niece out! Are you her new boyfriend?"

I flushed, embarrassed, and stammered, "Uh, I don't... , uh, I mean, um, I just happened to be there, when, you know, when she got hurt!"

"He's not my boyfriend uncle," Alamea said with a tired, sly smile, "but he might have been if you'd waited a little longer before barging in!"

She gave me a mischievous wink and my ears burned, but I smiled, flattered.

"This is my Uncle Kale (she pronounced it 'KAH-ley'), Dan, and his sister, my Aunt Lea ('LEY-uh')." Alamea said, smiling wanly "They take care of me when I get into trouble!"

"Which you do far too often, young lady!" Doctor Keawe said sternly, but I could see the smile trying to break through.

"Oh leave her alone, Kale!" her Aunt said, "She's a good girl, just a little adventurous!"

She turned to me, saying, "Don't pay him any mind! He's been a stuffed shirt all his life. Alamea don't do anything wrong. She just like to do things her own way!"

I was a little lost within this obviously close family circle, but had to smile at the affection that both, clearly felt for young Alamea.

Lea set about carefully pulling spines with a pair of forceps, and by the time she finished, there was a respectable collection of large and small spines on the tray beside her. While she worked, Dr. Keawe made Alamea swallow a couple of extra strength Tylenol and wrote a prescription for antibiotics.

"See those little black spots?" Lea asked me, pointing to the bottom of her niece's foot.

At my nod she continued, "Two, three days, those go away. If not, she got to come back here."

I wondered why she was telling me this, but I nodded.

"Use the hot wax to get the little ones, Lea." the doctor instructed before leaving her to finish up.

"You don't got to tell me!" she retorted in mock irritation, "How many times I do dis?"

"Yeah," he replied, grinning "you always just want to use the shaver, but that might not get it all. That's my favorite niece, there, so do it right, okay?"

"She my favorite niece too!" Lea replied, shaking a fist at him, "What you think?"

I watched as she melted wax, testing its temperature, then spread it on the affected area. When it had hardened sufficiently, Lea peeled off the wax, showing me the forest of almost microscopic fibers that sprouted from it.

"See," she explained, "you don't get those out the foot gonna get really bad."

When she had finished, Alamea's aunt fitted her for a pair of crutches. She still seemed a little listless, and Lea turned to me.

"You keep an eye on this girl, an' if she start feelin' bad, you bring her back here, okeh?" she instructed.

Alamea gave an exasperated shrug and said, "He's not my boyfriend, Auntie! He probably wants to get back to his vacation!"

The older woman looked at me, gave me a conspiritorial wink, and said, "You not married or something? You don't mind lookin' after a pretty Hawaiian girl, do you?"

I smiled and shook my head, and she continued, "'Sides, who gonna look afta you? That lazy roommate you got?"

"That's your daughter you're talking about, Auntie Lea!" Alamea retorted.

"See what I mean?" she winked at me, then turned back to her niece, "You let this nice man look afta you! He won't let anything happen to you!"

"Auntie!" Alamea said, "You know I don't date mainlanders!"

"Who said anything about a date?" Lea retorted, "You need somebody take care of you. This Dan, he did a good job so far, so give him the job!"

The young lady gave me an exasperated smile, and asked, "That okay with you, Dan?"

I smiled back and said, "I could think of worse ways to spend my vacation!"

Lea was all smiles as she walked us to the door.

"I need a shower!" Alamea said as I helped her back into the car.

"Yeah," I replied, feeling the salt crusting my own skin, and the grittiness of the sand still imbedded in my sunscreen, "me too. Look, my condo's just up the street if you want to shower there..."

She gave me a brilliant smile and said, "That sounds good. Hey, can you hand me my phone out of my bag? I need to make a couple of calls..."

"Sure!" I said, reaching into the back seat for the bag, "By the way, I didn't see another car at the beach. Did you park somewhere else, or ride a bike... ?"

She laughed and said, "No, that's one of the calls I've got to make. My cousin dropped me off and is supposed to pick me up later. I need to tell her I've got a ride."

She flashed me a smile and it seemed to me that she was feeling better. I was surprised at how that lightened my heart. I hadn't realized how tense I had become, worrying about this beautiful stranger.

I tried not to eavesdrop as she talked to her cousin, and by the time she was done, we were in the parking lot near my condo.

"Okay, Noe(NO-eh)!" Alamea finished up, "I'll catch up with you later! What? NOE!"

She looked sidelong at me then turned away and spoke in hushed tones, "Yeah, he is, but he's right here, okay? Bye!"

Since the condo had only one shower, I told Alamea to go ahead, and I'd take my shower later.

She looked at me with laughter in those big brown eyes and said, plaintively, "But what if I need help? I AM an invalid, after all!"

"I thought you didn't date mainlanders?" I said.

"You heard Auntie Lea." she replied, smiling, "I need someone to 'look afta me'. Besides, there's a first time for everything!"

Yielding, not very reluctantly, I joined her in the shower, getting a more leisurely look at the lovely golden body I had only glimpsed beneath the waves earlier. Her foot was still sore, but with a little experimentation, Alamea found that she could put weight on the ball of the foot and her toes, so she really didn't need much help in the shower. Her independence notwithstanding, I did my best to be useful.

We took turns washing each other's backs. Alamea did my back first, in a most delicious fashion. She had me bend my knees to bring me down to her height, soaped her own front thoroughly, then, with her arms around me, slipped and slid her soapy breasts and belly all over my back and buttocks. Her soapy hands took liberties with my front, as well. Her small right hand slid soapily up and down my rampant shaft while her left played with my nipples.

"I never thanked you for helping me, Dan." She said huskily, "I think it's overdue!"

I was close to peaking but with an effort turned and faced her.

"You're a beautiful young lady, Alamea," I said, sincerely, "And I would like nothing better than to be 'thanked' in the way you seem to be implying, but I'd feel better about it if I thought you wanted it too, and weren't just doing it out of a sense of obligation..."

Alamea smiled and said, "Silly! I just needed an excuse. I haven't quite reached the point where I can come up to a guy and say 'Hey, you're hot! Let's fuck!'. I do want to thank you, but if I didn't want to do this, I'd give you a pineapple or something instead! Now, if you'll be so kind as to wash MY back, perhaps we can find a better place to continue this conversation..."

With that she turned her back to me, and looking sexily over her bare brown shoulder, gathered her butt-length black hair and pulled it in front of her body, leaving her back available for the requested washing. I considered using her method, but settled for letting my hands 'slip' a little - around to the front to slide soapily across her soft breasts and rigid nipples, and between her legs from the rear to thoroughly 'wash' her slippery slit. I dropped the soap (unintentionally, really!) and when I bent to pick it up came face to face with a small, curvaceous pair of buttocks.

I couldn't resist. Parting those soft brown orbs gently with my hands, I drove my tongue between them, eliciting a shriek, followed by a sensuous moan as Alamea thrust backward to meet me. Taking that as a good sign, I slipped the tip of my tongue into the brown crinkled depression of her little butthole, probing gently inward.

The sphincter opened before my lingual digit like a flower to a hummingbird. I probed even deeper, feeling the muscles quiver around my tongue.

"Oh you NASTY, DIRTY man!" Alamea gasped, jutting her ass out to give me better access, "Oh, damn that feels GOOD!"

Encouraged, I slipped a finger into her slippery pussy, searching for her G-spot. With my tongue digging for gold in her fundament, and my finger lightly stroking the sensitive patch of flesh inside her tunnel, Alamea was soon slapping her buttocks against my cheeks. I strove to maintain contact as she fucked herself on my tongue and finger. When my thumb began tapping her hooded clit, she went rigid, and with a high-pitched squeal, nearly snapped my finger off inside her as she came!

"Oh my GOD!" she gasped as I rose creakily to my feet, "I never knew THAT was an erogenous zone!"

I just smiled and accepted her wet embrace.

"What do you say we take this into the bedroom?" I whispered into her wet hair.

"You bet," she sighed, then straightened, "Oh! What time is it?"

As we stepped out of the shower, I glanced at the clock in the bedroom,

"About quarter after nine." I answered, reaching for a towel.

"Oh!" Alamea exclaimed, "Look, Dan, can I take a rain check? I really want to continue this, but I'm supposed to have a rehearsal at 9:30, and I haven't been able to get hold of anyone to tell them I can't make it. If you could drive me down to the Marriott in Wailea I'd really appreciate it! I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

"Sure!" I answered, but my disappointment must have shown on my face.

Alamea dropped her towel and put her arms around my neck, kissing me passionately. I felt my cock rise again as she husked, "I mean it, Dan! I really want to be with you, but I can't let my girls down, okay?"

"I guess I can wait a little while." I smiled, "But you realize it's just going to build the pressure..."

"Ooooh!" she whispered seductively, "Does that mean you won't be able to control yourself? You wouldn't go all cave-man on little ol' me, would you?"

"Only if I thought you wanted me to..." I replied with a low growl.

"I can hardly wait!" she kissed me again, taking my breath away.

The shift she had worn to the clinic was the only dress she had with her, but it was relatively clean. She did slip on a lacy panty and a pair of sandals from her bag. I donned cargo shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Alamea's hand rested in my lap all the way to the Marriott, keeping my erection hard and ready.

"Why don't you come in and meet the girls?" Alamea asked as I parked the car.

She led me to a conference room where a bevy of young ladies and a few muscular young men milled about.

"Alamea! Where have you been? Why are you limping?" They all had similar questions and it took her a few minutes to calm them down and answer their questions.

Finally, she said, "So, Kelly, you'll have to dance my part for the next couple of performances, okay?"

"Do you really think I can do the solo, Alamea?" a pretty blonde asked.

"Sure you can, girl!" Alamea replied, "You've been ready for months, but all the spots have been full, so we didn't have anywhere to move you."

She clapped her hands and said, "Come on guys! This is still a rehearsal! You know what to do, so let's get to it!"

I've watched Hawaiian dancers on the mainland, some quite good at it, but this was different. To these dancers, wearing only a motley assortment of shorts, pants, skirts and various tops, the dances seemed almost spiritual. Alamea noticed my rapt attention and sat down beside me.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" she whispered, "It's like 'Aloha' in motion!"

I nodded, still watching entranced as the dancers went through the graceful routines. On the mainland, I realized, the dancers I had seen had been performing. These were almost praying - every swing of the hips, every hand movement, every facial expression a reflection of their love for the dance and what it represented. Even without the body-baring costumes and grass skirts it was the most sensual performance I had ever seen, and I was awed by its power.

Alamea watched me with a mixture of affection and amusement.

"I've spent years building this dance troupe." She whispered, "We're not the most popular performers on Maui for nothing! I wanted dancers who could feel the spirit of the dances as much as I did! There are a lot of good dancers out there, but the best ones dance with their hearts instead of their feet!"

I nodded reverently. "Best I'VE ever seen!" I whispered back.

"Wait 'til you see them in costume!" she laughed, "They're awesome by torchlight!"

"I tried," I replied, "couldn't get reservations!"

"Silly!" she replied, "You'll come as my guest, if you'll take me home long enough to get some other clothes!"

"It's a deal!" I whispered.

By the time the rehearsal was over, it was almost lunchtime, and we drove up to Lahaina, where I splurged on lunch at Kimo's. Alamea was cheerful and charming, and during the drive to and from Lahaina, her hand in my lap kept me on edge, especially after she nibbled on my ear, whispering "I want you SAVAGE tonight!"

Would the night NEVER come? I vowed that if she wanted savage, she was going to GET savage!

Alamea and her cousin lived in a small place on the inland side of the Pi'ilani Highway in Kihei, partway up the slopes of Haleakala. The cousin worked days at one of the shops in Wailea. You know the place - where you walk through and wonder what kind of life people live who not only WANT the stuff they sell, but can afford to pay the prices they charge in Wailea. You know the kind of merchandise - expensive sculptures of cartoon characters, that sort of thing.

After a couple of hours of changing clothes, packing, petting, and generally working ourselves into a frenzy, Alamea pushed me away and said huskily, "You need to cool off, Big Boy! Does that Condo where you're staying have a pool?"

"Yeah," I admitted, sorrowfully, "it does."

"Then what say you and I go take advantage of it until time for the first show?"

I reluctantly agreed, and she trailed a hand over my cock, whispering, "Be patient, Dan. All this teasing has a purpose that doesn't include leaving you high and dry. You just have to trust me, okay?"

What could I do? Reflecting back, I suppose it was more a matter of being enthralled by her than trusting her, but the end result was the same: I waited. I seemed to have a permanent erection, but I waited.

Back at my condo, we changed into swimsuits: Mine a flowered swim trunk, hers, a couple of scraps of brightly colored cloth held together by strings that barely covered her nipples and pussy. A few stray whisps of black pubic hair peeked out from behind the bottom triangle of fabric, but Alamea didn't seem to mind. I carried my towel and hers, held in front of my crotch to hide the tent in my trunks.

Dropping the towels on our chosen lounge chairs, I sat hunched over, trying to minimize the advertisement of my arousal, as Alamea spread sunblock on all the exposed areas of my flesh, and some areas that didn't really need it...

I was grateful that there were only a couple of other people in the pool area, and they weren't paying us any attention. My condition wasn't made any better when the lovely Hawaiian sprite asked me to return the favor. In order to cover all the exposed areas of her bronze skin, I found myself caressing oily lotion up and down her legs and back as she lay on her stomach, then kneading it into those soft, pliant buttocks. If I thought I was hard before, my cock became a diamond when she sensuously spread her legs, insisting that I cover ALL the exposed areas.

As I spread lotion into the valley between her buttocks, I checked to make sure the other couple wasn't looking, then slipped a lotioned finger quickly into her sphincter. Instead of the squeal and evasion I expected, Alamea's reaction was to raise her buttocks, inviting deeper penetration.

As I spread the lotion into the V between her legs, my finger 'accidentally' slipped beneath her thong to find her dripping pussy open and waiting for my entry! A soft moan issued from Alamea's mouth as I stroked briefly in and out, trying to make it look as though I was applying lotion. GOD! It was all I could do to keep from ripping that little scrap of cloth off her loins and raping her right there!