Disclaimer: This story contains sexual content of a homosexual nature between consenting adults. It is intended for mature audiences only.
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Lovesong Chapter 3
©2004 by Rhys Gruffydd.
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Our first stop, once we'd finally got rolling, was the liquor store. Both David and Summer regarded me with surprise as we pulled into the parking lot. I had to buy other groceries, but paramount was the offering to the Goddess Pele. Never visit her home without a little something for her, I'd been told many years ago. The only time I'd been here and not made an offering, I'd gotten caught in the prop wash of a passing boat while diving and received a nasty slice across my knee from a coral head. I probably called every shark within a two-mile radius too. The cut had been a scary experience and required seven stitches. Interestingly enough, the scar is in the shape of the Hawaiian Islands. I never neglected Pele again, and have always had good fortune. Laugh if you will, but I am superstitious.
So, I bought Pele a large bottle of Bombay Sapphire Gin and carefully threaded Plumeria blossoms held together with dental floss into a decorative lei. I carefully stuck the whole thing into my backpack. We drove up Mauna Loa, briefly stopping to see where the current eruption cut off the road, where the little town of Kalapana used to be. What's left of a school bus lies rusting on its side, carried down by the rapidly flowing lava almost to the ocean. The devastation here is eerie...a stop sign cocked forever, unable to direct the flow. Lava forms strange patterns...sometimes its rough, and it's called a'a...then its smooth and ropy...called pahoehoe (say pah hoi hoi) and its not really black. Lava is not just black, it's all colors, and sometimes it refracts light. We ventured further, it was overcast and the low hanging clouds glowed faintly red...a reminder that Pele was in the house and still erupting.
Inside the huge Kilauea Caldera is a much smaller caldera called Halemaumau, the sacred home of Pele. We hiked inside the crater following the well-worn path. Offerings to Pele, flowers, bottles, money, Ohelo berries, ringed the lip of the firepit. I took my humble missive out of my backpack and flung it with all my strength into the gaping black maw. I never heard it hit, so I assumed Pele found it worthy. We then hiked across the side and looked at the spatter cones that littered the area. David was in photographer heaven, and Summer occasionally struck a pose for him. We went back to the car and drove over to the Thurston Lava Tube. The Lava Tube really a huge cave formed by the lava as it rushed to the sea. But, since it is ancient, huge ferns and other lush greenery have almost taken over, trailing over the front and sides of the entrance, making it a very picturesque spot.
The last Hawaiian O'o was heard calling for its deceased mate here, a sad and romantic commentary on extinction for us all. Inside the Lava Tube, it's dimly lit and puddles make the floor a little treacherous. The steady plop of water echoes in the stillness, the drip water collects in natural cisterns and filters though from the ever-present rain and mist outside. The three of us venture into this dark womb of earth. The very smell of this place is the essence of fecundity, the earth at her ripest and most fertile. The imagery is not lost on my companions. Summer drags us both into a shadowy outcropping for a few stolen kisses. Our group grope is broken up by a gaggle of Japanese tourists.
The tourists weren't sure what to make of us as we three strolled arm in arm through the rest of the tunnel and up the back stairs into the sunlight. Always carry your sunglasses in Hawaii, its overcast one minute and brilliant sunlight the next, a lot like the rain.
After the Lava Tube we took a leisurely drive down Chain of Craters road then reversed direction (because the lava had cut off the south end of the island) and went by Devastation Trail. The trailhead goes to within a mile of the active eruption of the Pu'uO'o vent and the utter desolation is beautiful in its own stark way. We walked a little ways out onto the lava plain; small cairns of rock marked the trail. I had asked my companions not to pick up any Lava or berries, out of respect for the Goddess, so I frowned when I saw David examining something in his palm. I was going to say something when I noticed something odd. There are a lot of tourists in Hawaii and all of them wear aloha shirts. But, the guy in the bright orange bird of paradise shirt was definitely following us. I'd seen him at the grocery store this morning, on the trail to Halemaumau and briefly at the Thurston Lava tube. I don't believe in coincidence.
I poked David in the ribs, and pointed, discretely I hoped, in the direction of the guy. He nodded and gave me a grim smile, which I took to mean he had noticed as well. We pretended not to notice as he paced us back to the car. We pretended not to notice as a motorcycle followed us out of the parking area. We ignored him as he tracked us all the way down to King's Highway Park.
The park itself is really a picnic area with a spectacular coastline view. It also has the most odoriferous public loo on the planet. Downwind is a terrible place to be on a gusty day. On my advice, we skirted it, and came to the Cliffside. I am convinced that if there really are mermaids, this is their rookery. The surf slams into the cliffs with such ferocity as to shake the earth. But, when I meditate, I always return here in my minds eye, as it is the most alluring and mysterious place. Back away from the edge that plummets to churning froth, is a serene pine forest. The ground is littered with such a fine carpet of needles that you can't hear a footstep here. In the failing light, its also not one of the safest. The level of trash on the ground here angers me. I am in the process of picking up some coke cans when a group of loud people arrived.
I am trying to find a trash can when I discover, parked a little ways back in the trees is a motorcycle. There are several cameras with high-powered lenses strapped to the back. I nose through the pack he's left and discover his ID. The name on the driver's license means nothing to me, but I memorize the information anyway. I pull loose a spark plug and hope that will slow him down some. I then set off to find David and Summer.
They are sitting on a picnic table and David's got this look on his face that tells me he's fuming. Summer looks like she's about to cry. I hope that they haven't gotten into a fight over something stupid. As it turns out, David told her about our stalker. I comment that I have found his motorbike. We figure he is in the trees somewhere watching us. Then, I have a wonderful, brilliant, and totally evil idea.
Summer comments that whenever I smile like the Grinch she gets worried. The three of us huddle, whispering back and forth and David is grinning when I finish outlining my plan. Right now, Mr. Lucky, as I have taken to calling him, has to be upwind of those bathrooms to get a clear shot of us. So, if we act like we want a little privacy and make for the outhouse, he's going to have to break cover and come in for a clearer view. We can lure him inside the alcove leading to the men's/women's doors and jump him. Summer goes to the car and rummages around. She stuffs something in her purse and lollygags about, like she's the lookout for us.
David and I make for the loo. We get within five feet and my eyes start to water. David turns a little gray but we both make it inside the alcove. Above, the Koa roof has beams in a criss cross brace formation. I stand on tiptoe and grab the cross section. It's sticky. David makes a cradle with his hands and helps me pull up and into the side where the roof slopes down. Then I help drag him up and we are both gagging from the noxious scent.
"Christ, what died in here!" David wheezes.
I shake my head unable to respond without choking. Summer sashays in, and as soon as she comes behind the partition she's got her hand up to her face and is trying not to retch. On top of the partition there is at least a breeze, and we help her reach the top. She pulls her legs up and huddles miserably. We wait. She opens her purse and passes us towels, which we promptly put over our noses. We wait some more. I am thinking that maybe this isn't going to work. "Fake an orgasm" David hisses to me. "You're loud!"
Summer starts giggling. But, he's got a point. I am trying to sound sufficiently aroused without laughing. Summer joins in, between stifling her giggles. David even chimes in with a well-placed moan or two. Sure enough, our antics bring the curious out of the woodwork. A soft scraping alerts us that our watcher is near. He won't have a clear shot without coming inside the alcove. Fool that he is, he steps inside. David slides silently down the wall behind him and drops him from behind. His eyes roll up in his head, and I manage to catch him before he hits the ground. We drag him into the men's room, where the smell is its most pungent and shut the door. The doors are padlocked at night, by the park service, so we close it up for them. David helps Summer from her perch and we run to the car laughing.
We have to stop at one of the little beach parks on the way back to old Hilo town. We are offending each other, having contracted the funk somehow. It's near to dark so we have to hurry. I am stripping as fast as I can, and David is right behind me with the soap. Summer joins us under the ice-cold spray and we are scrubbing and cursing. But, the end result is we are much better for wear. We have got to find a coin laundry before we head to Waipio; else I am going to be washing my clothes in the river.
We stop by Prince Kuhio mall again, so Summer can buy underwear or socks or something. In the process, we stop into Liberty House, which is Hawaii's version of a department store. I am amazed! In a corner of the store, they have a whole section dedicated to Armani. Since he is about the only designer I will buy a suit from, I have to peruse. David wanders over, takes one look at the price tag on one of the sets of trousers and lets out a low whistle.
Summer comes up and sees me with a pair of gray pants and urges me to go try them on. Since she wants me to model, I figure misery loves company. I hand David a pair of charcoal pinstripe pants and matching jacket, just guessing at his size. "What do you want me to do with this?" he says clearly a little confused. "Try it on!" Summer urges He shakes his head, negatively. I hand him a cobalt blue shirt to go with it and he looks at me like I have lost my mind.
"Please David!" Summer begs and bats her eyelashes at him. He looks non-plussed.
"Might as well" I say, then under my breath to him, "Or it may well be a long evening".
Summer is clearly pouting.
"Besides," and I grin at him, "You could humour me."
He gives me a black look, and puts back the cobalt shirt. Instead he chooses a maroon silk shirt and a black tie. He stomps off to the dressing room and I turn and grin at Summer. My own try on lasts about five minutes. The pants are fine, however, the length needs work. I decide to get them and have them shipped directly to my tailor. I am futzing around at the rack and have my back to the dressing room door.
"Oh My!" Summer says breathlessly.
She has this rather rapt expression so I turn to look myself. He calmly walks in front the tri mirror and turns around to see the back of the jacket for himself. The jacket for the most part fits fine, maybe a little long in the sleeves. The pants need a hem. The salesman starts fussing with the pants and David gives me this little smug grin. He knows he looks good. The Bastard. Summer is chattering away with her praise. I've learned that being too effusive with him earns me a derisive reaction.
So I merely nod my head and say, "Refreshing." in my driest tone. He makes some crack to the salesman about the price and stalks proudly back to the dressing room, flipping his braid over his shoulder as he goes. I motion to the salesman and tell him I will take that suit as well. But, I don't want David to know that I did that for him. I drag out my Palm and tell him where to send it after its been altered. Hopefully, David won't have rubbed off the chalk lines taking the pants off.
He is, in my estimation, one of these quid pro quo children. He's not used to anybody just giving him something because they can. I don't want him to know that did this, because then he might think he owes me, and I don't want him to think that at all. I swear the salesman to secrecy and he goes and collects the suit from the dressing room. We leave and Summer is still going on.
On and on and on. David and I both finally gave her a quelling look and she went back to pouting for a few minutes, until she decided she was hungry. Then, we were looking for a place that was still open, as Hilo tends to roll up its sidewalks at seven in the evening. KKTei is a Korean/Japanese/Chinese/Pacific Rim fusion eatery near the main highway and it was still open. We found ourselves seated in a tatami room with the huge screens open to the interior courtyard. David ordered steak, while Summer and I indulged in Bulgoki with extra kimchee, and sushi. David watched me consume several bits of eel before asking how the hell I could eat that. I blithely told him that after several glasses of saki, I could eat nearly anything.
"Oh Really?" he remarked dryly.
He poured himself a bit of my saki, and sipped it. He made a terrible face and set the cup down. I laughed. Saki really is fish heads left to ferment on a rock for a couple of weeks. They bottle it, and serve it warmed. It's an acquired taste, like a lot of Asian cuisines. He shuddered. Summer giggled and had another daiquiri. She stood and went outside into the garden area. I was so full I was about to pop. The rain had begun again, just the light post twilight rain that generally lasted until around ten PM.
The courtyard from what I could see, lying on my back on the tatami mat, was rather crowded. Stone lanterns and statues abounded. As far as traditional Japanese goes, it wasn't. The gardener was far too overzealous. But, it was still pretty in a profuse way. David came around to my side of the table and flopped down next to me, groaning. He picked up the saki cup again and downed it, wincing. He then dug into his pocket and brought something out.
"What's this?" he asked, "Is it lava?"
He handed the tiny black crystalline orb to me. In the light, it shined like black fire. A tiny iridescent streak threaded through it. I rolled it in my palm, and discovered it was not perfectly round but pear shaped. I held it up and it was clear black, not muddy black like some of the other ones I had seen in the Volcano Museum. I handed it back to him.
"Its volcanic glass formed from the spatter of the eruption. The wind can carry them for miles in any direction." I said, then added, "Its called Pele's tears."
Modern legend has it that the finder of a Pele tear somehow deserves the tears of the Goddess. But, I did not tell him that. Hawaii is full of myths and legends, some of the totally unique, like the Goddesses flying vagina. I am only a haole, so what do I know?
Summer came bouncing back ready for her mango ice cream, and I tried to sober up enough to drive to Waipio. We left after the ice cream and went to the grocery store again. This time, I bought supplies knowing that where we were headed had no drinking water and no food. Waipio Valley is one of the most exquisite places on earth. The valley is also one of the remotest, being down the side of a steep switchback. There are multiple waterfalls, a black sand beach, taro patches, a river, pot fields and many legends about King Kamehameha, the uniter of the Hawaiian islands.
Two hours up the Hamakua coast from Hilo, it's a verdant patch of paradise secluded from the rest of the world. Mobile phone service is patchy here. There are no phones, electricity or running water. There are only two places to stay there, Tom Araki's Waipio Hilton, where I had stayed as a student, and a new place, The Treehouse. The place sounded interesting and was available for the nights I'd need. Since the valley is in the heart of a tropical rainforest, mosquito repellent is an absolute must. I picked up the key at the rental place. They had left it where I could find it knowing that we would be arriving rather late. The steep switch back in the rain was treacherous, but we made it down the mountain.
Have you ever been tired and horny at the same time? We got to the Treehouse, and I couldn't decide if I was just really exhausted or had a severe need to masturbate. I think it was the saki, it fucked up my libido or something. It was raining (oh big surprise there) so I couldn't go prowl around outside and see what kind of phone reception I was going to get. I really needed to log in and find out if my PA found out anything and give her the information from Mr. Lucky's drivers license.
Summer was tearing up the bed and dragging stuff out of her suitcase. David had found the battery powered CD player and Nine Inch Nails was blasting at full volume into the humid air. I went outside to smoke, and see if I had any reception at all. The loo, shower, and Jacuzzi are all down underneath the monkeypod tree. The setup was a little inconvenient but all in all, not too terrible. At least the stairs were sort of covered. The scent of sandalwood floats past my nose, and I inhale deeply.
My mobile registers no signal, so I will have to take it and the laptop to the mouth of the Valley tomorrow and try again. The rain had slowed to a barely perceptible drizzle, and I can discern several fires up in the hills. David pads up silently behind me and nearly causes me to jump out of my skin. He just laughs, says Summer kicked him out for the moment. He's got a bottle of bourbon, so we pass it back and forth between us. The scents of sandalwood and burning grass float over us, drifting down in a haze from the mountainside.
"Is the mountain on fire?" David says, and hiccups slightly. For some reason, this sets off a fit of laughter from both of us. I know I am not that drunk. Then it occurs to me what it is. "No." I said slowly. "That's a burn off, and we're downwind." "A what?" He says, a little perplexed. "Some of the best pot in the world is grown right here." I said and breathed a little more deeply.
"The growers will occasionally burn off a field to strengthen the strain of the other plants. That's what those fires up there are"
I pointed up the mountainside where the faint glow was still visible. "Oh no shit?" He's holding his breath, trying not to inhale any of the drifting smoke, and I forget he is staunchly anti drug. Its not working, he's as high as I am right now. We are both laughing our asses off for no good reason.
"Shall we go see what Princess Fuck is up to now?" I stand and head up the stairs. He's right behind me as we burst into the cottage at the top. I come to a total stop and he about plows into me from behind. She's rearranged everything. The couch is nowhere to be seen. In its place is the mattress from the bed and a profusion of pillows. She's found the mosquito netting and draped it all over the bed area. There are a dozen candles lit in various places around the room. We both stand there, gawking, as Summer approaches us, and kneels down. She has unbraided her hair, and it falls in rippling waves down past her shoulders. In this light, her skin is a tawny golden color. She wears only a pareau around her hips and a lei of pink Plumeria across her breasts. She looks like a tawdry little hula girl as she caresses me through my jeans, and starts pulling at David's zipper. He and I don't even need to look at each other. He grabs her by one elbow and I grab the other and we carry her to the bed.
Summer started squirming and giggling as David and I both stripped her. Her pareau ended up flung into a corner of the room along with my pants and David's shirt. The fragile lei didn't last long, spreading its fragrant blooms all over the duvet. David poured a few drops of bourbon onto Summer's breasts and proceeded to lick it off. That gave me an idea. I got up, stripped off my shirt and shoes and went into the tiny kitchen. The only electrical appliance was a small refrigerator, powered by a generator somewhere else in the Valley. I was getting a serious sugar craving, big surprise there. So, I grabbed the Hagan Daaz Dulce de leche ice cream, whipped cream in the spray can, pineapple slices, coconut syrup, bananas, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, lycee nuts, chocolate sauce and caramel. I almost forgot the honey and the guava jam, which was an afterthought.
I juggled the whole mess back to the made over living room. David had stripped down and had a plumeria blossom tucked rakishly behind one ear. He was tickling her and she was protesting and kicking. I scooped up her pareau from the floor after I'd set down my burdens. I found one of her scarves and tied her hands together. Then, blindfolded her with the pareau. David calmly used his belt to tie on of her legs to a wall beam. He went rummaging through his luggage and came up with another belt to secure her other leg. She kept trying to wiggle loose so he gave her a gentle smack on the rump. She shrieked like he'd murdered her or something. "This annoying you as much as it does me?" He asked. "Yup." I replied.
The majority of her bags were in the corner so he opened up one and discovered it was her toy bag. Out tumbled a ball gag and some astroglide. He promptly put the gag in her mouth and contemplated the astroglide. "Now what do you suppose as sweet young thing like her would be doing with something like this?" He said and grinned wickedly. Some more rummaging turned up several interesting toys.
He removed a rather large dildo from the bag and he and I look at each other and laugh.
"Oh! What's this then?" He says suddenly and holds up what looks to be a largish butterfly. "Is this one of those clit tickler things, do you suppose?"
Summer is squirming frantically and whimpering.
"What's that dear?" He says evilly, "You want us to use it on you?"
Summer is trying to shake her head. He laughs a completely nefarious chuckle. He finds the on switch and the little butterfly begins vibrating ever so slightly. He parts Summer's nether lips with his fingers and very carefully positions it in its proper location. She whimpers again. I drizzle ice cream on her breasts, along with chocolate, caramel, and coconut syrup. I smear guava jam rather liberally up her rib cage. David snags the jar from me, and begins painting her nose and chin with guava. He then takes the spray can of whipped cream and writes his name on her stomach. He sprayed whipped cream on her breasts, and covers the V of her crotch with the foamy mess. I decorate the tips of her nipples with raspberries, and some well- placed pineapple slices. A strawberry finds its way into her belly button, along with some peeled lycee nuts. We decorate her crotch with bits of mashed banana. Her thighs get a nice coat of honey. Her legs get whipped cream and coconut syrup. Her toes get coated with cream, chocolate and mashed strawberry, which I promptly decide I must lick off. Summer is squirming uncontrollably. David gets up and retrieves his camera.
"Gotta have a photo of this." He comments.
Summer squeals under her gag as David loads a new roll of film into his camera. I am grinning, thinking where the hell is he going to get this one developed? As if reading my mind, he says, "Black and white...I'll develop it myself."
He leans in for an extreme close up of her breast adorned with pineapple and crème. I play photographers assistant, moving bits and repositioning her when necessary. I drag out a flashlight for some added light contrast shots. I fan her hair out over the pillow and stick a strawberry atop the ball gag. He gets an extreme close up of my tongue licking her cheek. I have a feeling I know where some of these pictures are eventually destined. Oh well. If he posts them I will just laugh. I know Summer won't care.
Time to make a serious mess. I start licking Summer's breast, unable to resist the confection we'd made. David, in between pictures, licks off his signature. She's writhing around a bit much so by executive decision, we remove the butterfly. Her sex is glistening with the whipped cream and her natural moisture. He's decided to remove the guava jam collecting around her collarbone so I help myself to the strawberry in her navel. I slide my tongue down the curve of her hip and she whimpers. He's sucking on her neck like a vampire. He attacks her breast and eats the pineapple and licks off all the cream, leaving behind a very swollen and pink nipple. I decide that any attention paid to her nether regions might set off a chain reaction, and frankly, I want her to suffer for a bit. So, I concentrate on her thighs, brushing my fingers through the honey and licking it off my fingers.
I work my way down to her knees, then lower to her toes. They are painted a red that is very close to the colour of the strawberries we'd mashed on them. I lick and suck each toe very gently. The muscles in her legs tense and she's trying hard to find something to wiggle against. Naughty girl! David's licked his way down to the top of her mound. He's got whipped crème on his nose, and I grab the camera and take a picture. I am laughing really hard, as it strikes me as incredibly funny. He makes a face then gets this crafty expression.
"Lick it off." He says. Oh, I am being challenged again. Fine. I act like I misunderstand him, and move so that I would be in a position to go down on Summer. Instead of doing that however, I catch him by the back of the head and pull him to me, and two swift licks does it.
"Okay, nose clean." I say grinning as I release him.
"Fucking tease." He grumbles. I am unrepentant. Summer's sex glistens invitingly beneath the fine coat of cream. I mash some raspberries and whatever's left of the remaining fruit up in my hands and gingerly apply it to her cleft. She moans rather loudly this time.
"Careful." He reminds me, "She enjoys that a bit much" Heeding his advice, mostly, I nibble at the folds of her labia. This elicits a serious moan. Using fingers and tongue, I spread back the outer lips and lick carefully, darting my tongue around just enough to remove the fruit and crème but not enough to bring her to orgasm. The scent of her sex sends me reeling. Up until now, we'd only been playing.
Oh yeah, parts of my anatomy are reacting to this now. I have to nuzzle her clit with my nose. I feel more than hear her soft cries. I give her a few experimental licks up and down the length of her clitoris. I can sense she's really close to the edge, so I back off again. I draw the hood back with my fingers and lightly draw my teeth against her soft flesh. I feel her thighs tense again, and she's trying to thrust her hips into my face so I come up for air. David's been idly stroking her breasts, teasing her nipples until they are a rich shade of red. She protests with a muffled wail my exodus from her pussy. David rolls over and holds up the tube of astroglide.
"I've got an idea." He says with another evil grin. "Help me roll her over onto her side."
The straps prove to be tricky. Finally, its determined that one of us will have to hold her in position in order to make this work. I'm concerned that he'll hurt her but he assures me in a whisper that he had talked to her about this before. I pull her over on top of me, and the sensation of her clit rubbing up against my cock is delicious. She moans and leans into me. Her hands are still tied, in fact, re- pinioned to the wall with one of the belts from her legs. I have to hold her completely still, pulling her harder into me. David drizzles the astroglide liberally over his intended target and she squeals underneath the gag as the cool lubricant makes contact with her anus. He pushed the head of his cock past the sphincter slowly, letting her adjust to his size with care.
She moans again, this time a bit more raggedly. He withdraws and slowly presses in again, this time going deeper. She's breathing rapidly through her nose. I ask her in her ear if she's okay and she nods affirmative. She wiggles around and her clit brushes my cock again and it's a searing sensation; she is so incredibly wet. David thrusts harder into her, and she whimpers into the gag again.
"Do it." he gasps and indicates I should take her vaginally. Hell, I don't need to be told twice at this point. I reposition her and slide my cock home. She is so fucking tight, and warm and wet. Her pussy spasms around my cock; little rivulets of pleasure encompassing us. The sensation of his cock and mine together with a very thin membrane separating us is mind blowing. I remove the gag from her mouth because I really want to kiss her. Oh the profanity! She cut loose the second that gag was removed.
"Oh my god! Oh you fucking bastards!" she said. David groaned and increased his pace, as did I. Her pussy gripped me like a velvet vice, and I could feel the tip of my cock nudging her cervix. She started to howl as her body finally betrayed her completely. Her orgasm was the shivering, contracting kind that drags you down and sucks you under. Her pussy milked me, and I could feel it start somewhere near my last vertebrae, a rippling tearing sensation that soared out of me and into her. David moaned as he buried himself deep inside her and he shuddered hard.
"Oh you fucking bastards." She cried.
Lying on the floor, in a puddle of sated lust, I was nearly asleep. Summer however decides, as soon as she can walk, that she needs a shower, and that we must accompany her. Where women get this post fuck energy I will never know. David and I were both content to lay there sprawled in benign lassitude. But, no, we must stagger down the stairs and allow ourselves to be pummeled by the brisk water. I am moderately revived if not still a little weak in the knees. I wash Summer's hair gently, massaging the rosemary mint shampoo deep into her scalp. This rapidly becomes a neck and shoulder massage. She attacks David and me with the almond scented soap. For a bit, it's a flurry of bubbles and laughter. Summer threatens to use the soap on my last remaining virginity and I comment dryly about closing my eyes and thinking of Wales.
"You should try it, Rhys!" She enthuses. "David, you tell him how good it is." He gives a little shrug and a half smile. She elbows him in the ribs. Instead, he yawns really big.
"Oh! You!" She's exasperated with him now. He just grins and says,
"Later, I'm tired." Heading back upstairs. We skirt a flying army of mosquitoes and follow. The room is a mess and Summer is beside herself, neat freak that she is. I yank on a pair of my shorts and fall on the mattress, to tired to care or argue. Last thing I remember was pulling the pillow over my head.