Bring Me Back a Hawaiian Girl

Her husband dropped her off at the airport and helped her get inside with her bags. She asked him if he wanted any souvenirs from Hawaii.

He laughed and said, "Bring me back a Hawaiian girl!" before giving her a final hug and kiss goodbye, and returning to the car. He made such jokes often, whenever her work sent her to far off destinations. An Italian girl, he'd asked for. A French girl. A Japanese girl. How serious was he, when he made those jokes? Were they really a joke, or merely a way to gauge her interest with some plausible deniability? If she came back with a Hawaiian girl to add to their household, would he be delighted? Would he dote on her every day? Share their meals with her? Pamper her? She suspected he would. He was popular with girls. They liked him, and he liked them back.

The flight to Oahu was relaxing and blissful. Beautiful skies over a boundless, azure ocean. Even though she was headed the opposite way they had, she imagined what that ocean must have looked like to the first Polynesians to discover Hawaii, to land there and make it a home. She would have been terrified to see nothing but ocean for weeks at a time, but perhaps for them, it had been a comfort. What bravery they had! What knowledge of the ocean! She continued to read of the islands' history as the plane gracefully carried her to a tropical paradise, her mind filled with images of ancient Hawaiian ali'i and kahunas.

The work conference went as work conferences usually do. The good seminars were eye-opening, the bad ones had her fighting to keep them open as she struggled against boredom-induced sleep. The food made up for even the worst of them, though, especially the kalua pork, the smoked, succulent flesh tinged with the aroma of banana leaves and the flavor of alaea salt. And at the end of each day, she had enough time to walk around and shop a little and explore the island. She saw amazing dances and music at the Polynesian Cultural Center as lithe dancers moved with flames and feathers. She ate seafood and fresh fruits and poi and cabbage and myriad dishes that tasted delicious but she never even learnt the names of. She tried out Dole whip and poke for the first time, and loved both. She picked up a large box of cookies for her and her husband, and grabbed him a small, wooden carving of Ku for his collection of gods back home.

But most of all, she relaxed on the beach at Waimea Bay, exposing her flesh to the sun, letting the ocean breeze kiss her skin and mingle in her hair while she watched the waves crash into the shoreline, ridden by well-muscled and well-tanned surfers, water dripping off their perfect bodies as they walked past her, their eyes caressing her subtly, her choice of swimsuit clearly appreciated.

It didn't take long for one of the surfers to approach her. His beautiful color and intimidating height and breadth of shoulders evidence of the Polynesian blood in his veins, his body artfully decorated with elaborate, traditional tattoos that highlighted his bulging muscles that danced beneath his skin as he ran into the waves while she watched. His wet trunks did little to hide the outline of an impressively thick and heavy cock beneath, an outline that grew visibly while he stood and talked to her, his eyes constantly glancing down to her chest and legs. She only encouraged him, arching her back and stretching her limbs for his benefit. When he invited her to a luau, she accepted, already knowing what was to come later, already promising herself she'd submit to him whatever he desired.

Before the food had even arrived at the table, his hand found its way to her thigh. By the time the kulolo had arrived, his fingers were caressing her lips through her soaked panties, and her hand was stroking his hard, thick cock through his shorts, his heartbeat throbbing in her grip, an eager drumroll in anticipation of the main event.

He took her back to his room. He undressed her hastily, passionately. Her buttons scattered across the floor as he ripped open her blouse to get at her exposed, firm, bountiful breasts. He sucked her nipples greedily before carrying her into bed. His lips explored her body: her neck, her lips, her ears, her arms, her breasts, going down her toned stomach before stopping temporarily at her waist, only long enough for him to slip her panties off from under her skirt and expose her soft, bare pussy to his hungry mouth. He ate her cunt as it never had been before and she was soon moaning in ecstasy, her hands gripping the sheets, her thumb stroking her wedding ring like a talisman.

She begged to return the favor. She got onto her knees and unzipped his shorts with trembling hands. She gasped at the sight of his cock, long and thick and dark and powerful. She stroked it tentatively a few times in her hands, gauging its girth before she parted her lips and took him into her mouth. She sucked and licked his heavy, veined shaft, her hands cradling and caressing his balls, savoring him like a popsicle, knowing that he was just barely able to restrain himself from throwing her into bed and forcing himself on her, knowing from the feeling of his taut thighs and toned abdomen that she could do nothing to stop him, but trusting him to wait for her to be ready regardless. She could have happily spent the rest of the night simply sucking his cock and swallowing his essence, but she needed it somewhere else.

He got into bed. She climbed on top of him and guided that magnificent, perfect cock deftly inside her body, slowly lowering herself onto it inch by inch as she gladly struggled to engulf his manhood. His hands squeezed at her breasts while she rode, each thrust of his cock sending currents of pleasure through her entire body. She felt hot. She felt crazy. She could barely think at all. But her body's instincts guided her. His breath hastened. His moans grew. She called his name. They were close.

His body shook. Her thighs quivered and tightened. His cock pulsated strongly inside her as she felt wave after wave of his cum flow into her and fill her womb. She wanted to keep every last drop of his cum safe inside her body. She leaned down and kissed him passionately, refusing to surrender his cock until she was certain he had nothing left to give her. And then she made him do it again. And again. She fell asleep in his arms, exhausted and drenched in sweat, her body sore, her spirit soaring.

When she awoke the next morning, he was gone. Only a filling breakfast awaiting her on the table and the aches of her body proved it hadn't been an intense dream. She returned to the beach but couldn't find him before she had to fly home.

She came out of the airport, her skin sunkissed, the smell of salt still in her hair. Her husband stood there waiting for her. He asked how her trip was before asking about his souvenir.

"I brought you back some Honolulu cookies and a new god for your collection!" she answered.

"What about my Hawaiian girl?" he asked with a laugh.

"Oh, right! Well, I tried my best, but we'll have to wait nine months to find out whether it's a girl or not."

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