Hawaiian Valentines "Lei" for Daddy

"If you weren't my sister," he threatened with a wolfish leer. Joking yes, but I couldn't help but notice that I'd given my little brother a hard-on. Except, at least according to any I'd ever seen before, it seemed way too big. What the hell did he have in there I wondered.

With the power back on that night I slept in my bedroom -- alone. While Craig slept on my sofa. I'm not sure what might have happened if we'd have slept together that night. But looking back I'm pretty sure I never would have got on the plane to Hawaii.

But we didn't sleep together and therefore at six a.m. on Sunday morning, Febuary 10th 2008, I followed my brother, who was carrying the bag I'd taken two hours to pack the night before, out my front door and down to his car, my first step towards the most beautiful place on Earth and my waiting father.

Which worked out just fine after all!

Sunday, February 10th, 3:30 p.m., Maui, Hawaii

I almost didn't recognize him standing in the terminal, a huge welcoming smile on his face. His hair was longer, lighter from the sun and salt than I remembered, and he sported a new (at least for me who hadn't seen him in eighteen months) bushy mustache that hung Fu Manchu like from his upper lip. His skin which had always tanned easily in the summer (unlike my whiter skin) was now a glistening, rich golden color. He was wearing one of those outlandish Hawaiian shirts over a pair of white surfing shorts and a pair of rope sandals. He looked ridiculous. He was my father. I'd always loved him!

Which I guess is why I dropped my bags, raced over the ten yards that separated us and then hurtled myself at him. And was immediately enveloped in his strong arms and then lifted effortlessly in the air, he easily twirling me around as his lips kissed my cheek and lips. I had tears in my eyes when he finally set me back on my feet. Any trepidation either of us had at our reunion instantly gone.

"So I guess we missed each other a little bit," he offered shyly, a tentative grin on his face.

"Maybe," I admitted, then added as I touched the hairy growth on his lip, "and hey, where'd you get these...these... clothes?"

"Picking on your old man already are you kiddo?" he grumbled, but in a teasing, loving tone that I recognized so well and which sent a shiver down my spine. Stepping back he quickly ran his eyes up and down my body appraisingly, then asked, "Craig did tell you Hawaii and not Alaska didn't he?"

"Ha, ha daddy," I answered as I slipped my arms from the ski jacket that was good in temperatures down to minus 30 degrees and then handed it to him, then pulled my blue, vee necked cashmere sweater over my head and then shook out my hair. Then was suddenly shy.

Bra less, I could feel my breasts dancing under the light blue cotton tank top that was my only remaining covering. I saw approval in his eyes as he watched this sudden unplanned show and then couldn't stop the hardening of my nipples as he watched. I shoulda worn a bra I chastened myself even as I delighted in the attention.

"I don't usually wear a bra that often...not when I'm around the house...painting...it's more comfortable...I mean I...I sorta didn't think," I blurted as I reddened, suddenly afraid what he'd think.

"That's nice," he answered maddeningly, still the man it was almost impossible to faze (and I'd pulled some pretty wild pranks during my teenage years), as he bent down and grabbed the bag he'd been carrying when I'd first seen him. And then he slowly put one, then a second, then a third string of beautiful flowers around my neck. Which fortunately hid the evidence of my nippled excitement from his eyes. Or was it fortunate?

"Now I don't want you telling everyone when you get home that you weren't 'Properly Lei'ed' when you came to Hawaii," he admonished with a grin as he adjusted the leis around my neck.

"You're so funny dad," I answered laughing, knowing I was going to pay for my inadvertent remark on the phone about my love life. Smiling he took one of my hands in his as he grabbed my bag with his other one, then led me out towards paradise.

It's a different world. Okay, yes, it is just another state, just one of fifty. But it only takes you maybe five minutes over here to realize that every minute of your life you've spent somewhere else was a pale imitation of what life should be. For an artist it was almost too much, the dazzling colors and tropical smells simply blasted into my brain, threatening a complete sensual overload. I was actually gasping as dad directed his topless jeep away from the airport.

I'd decided well before we pulled up in front of his house, a house that seemed only seconds away from being swallowed by the jungle like foliage that surrounded it, that Hawaii was my new home, that I'd never live anywhere else.

A northeasterner, a mainlander like me, has no vocabulary to adequately describe a house in Hawaii or the grounds that surround it. You're faced with asking a thousand questions, 'what do you call that tree?', or bird, or flower or fish. Within days you know what a 'lanai' is, what a hundred different new words are, but at first you simply follow open mouthed as your father leads you through his house and grounds.

And you end up at the back of his house, beyond the lush garden that surrounds the pool and the 'lanai', and you find yourself looking down upon a view that simply takes your breath away, a view you know you could paint for the next fifty years and still not get bored. You watch the lowering sun as it dances across the white tipped waves and want to cry. You've found your home!

Hawaii, Monday, February 11th

Just before nine that first night I'd abruptly hid a wall, the time change and the emotional excitement of having seen daddy again after so long suddenly knocking me out. I was in bed by nine - we'd been talking almost nonstop since the second I'd deplaned. The anger I'd secretly harbored against him since the divorce had completely dissipated.

So, my body still on New Hampshire time, I was up early the next morning, popping out of bed before five a.m. fully refreshed after eight hours sleep. And then, with a glass of orange juice in one hand and my painting supplies (easel, sketchbook and paints) precariously held in my other, I wandered out across the lanai and back down to the edge of dad's property and the view that had so mesmerized me the night before.

The little crescent of what I learned later was called Molokini was below and across the water, the more ominous shadow of Kahoolawe farther beyond. The beaches of Wailea, small sandy arcs at the edge of the foaming sea, were below and to my right while the western Maui Mountains loomed across the ocean. And at my back Haleakala, a now quiet volcano that held dad's house on its lower slopes.

Engrossed in my work, I only just heard the sound of a glass door sliding open at just after seven. Looking up and peering between the plants I saw dad as he emerged through the doors that led directly from his bedroom to the pool deck. He wore just a towel around his waist. Curious, I swallowed the friendly 'good morning' that was on the tip of my tongue and watched silently.

I saw him look up quickly at the house (checking for any life from me?), then stunned, I gasped softly when he let the towel drop and walked over to the outdoor shower that stood at the edge of the lanai. Embarrassed, but spellbound, I simply watched, watched as he ran a bar of soap over his chest, then down across his stomach and down between his legs.

I found myself with goose bumps when seconds later he stepped out from the cascade of water and then headed directly towards me. Panicky, unsure what I could possibly say, I only breathed again when he turned and jumped into the pool. He swam for twenty minutes, back and forth, lap after lap, and my eyes never left his tanned butt as he glided through the water. But it was what I'd seen swinging between his legs as he'd walked toward the pool that had burned itself deep into my brain. Heck, no wonder Craig had looked so big under his jeans I thought, he inherited something else from dad.

And when I looked down at my sketchpad I found I'd somehow drawn an incredibly detailed picture of my father's penis. Okay, okay, it's just a penis I tried to convince myself as I walked across he lawn back towards the house. Yeah sure!

Unfortunately dad, now dressed, was sitting at the kitchen table when I slipped inside the kitchen five minutes later. I could see the surprise, the question in his eyes before he finally welcomed me, "Hey, you're up...I thought you were still sleeping. What can I make you for breakfast?" he added, his curiosity never leaving his eyes.

"I woke early...still on New Hampshire time I guess...I saw the sunrise....I was trying to draw," I stammered.

"Can I see?" he asked as he moved towards me with open hand.

"No...I mean they're just sketches...they're not finished," I started, but then looked at dad and admitted, "I was at the end of the yard...I saw you..."

"Swimming?"

"Naked," I said with a look that was part grimace and part embarrassment.

"I shouldn't have...I thought you were still," he started to explain.

"I shoulda said something...but then you dropped your towel," I said before tailing off.

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again," dad promised.

"Do you always swim nude?" I asked as I remembered his tanned butt, the lack of tan lines anywhere.

"Well, my morning swim, or when I'm alone," he explained, clearly a little embarrassed himself.

"Or when those Hawaiian girls Craig was talking about come over?" I asked grinning.

"What girls? What did Craig tell you?"

"Never you mind...and I don't mind."

"You don't mind what?"

"You being naked. Remember daddy I am an artist, I've painted lots of naked models," I answered, and then, trying to change the subject, asked, "Can you cook me a Hawaiian omelet?"

"I thought you couldn't even paint a tree these days," he grumbled as he turned towards the fridge. I had to smile to myself when he said it, thinking of the big, thick branch I'd just drawn. Man tree!

After breakfast dad took me on a tour of the island. MAUI!!!! Oh my gawd! From his house which stood isolated on the lower hillside of Haleakala and just above Makena Beach (which he explained in passing was a clothing optional beach) we followed the coast road north, first passing the golf courses and four star resorts of Wailea before entering the town of Kihei and it's tourist shops which proudly displayed rack after rack of colorful Hawaiian clothes on the sidewalks in front of their stores.

And there was the ocean on our left, a continuing panorama of waves breaking on small, crescent shaped beaches or smashing in a roar of sound against the rocky, volcanic outcroppings which separated and defined them.

And on our right always Haleakala loomed, it's upper third that day surrounded by dancing white clouds, its volcanic birth hidden by the lush vegetation that softened it.

For an artist it was an impossible nirvana, a cavalcade of views and scenes that a thousand artists couldn't begin to capture in a hundred years. But as I snapped picture after picture on my digital camera that day I knew I'd try.

We toured West Maui first, drove through Lahaina (an old fishing village dad explained) before moving on to the modern resorts of Kaanapali and Kapalu and Honalua Bay (each name seemingly more magical) and then finally turned southward and ran down the East Coast towards Kahului where I'd landed just twenty hours earlier.

Then later past Hookipa Beach and its wind and surf that makes it the number one windsurfing spot in the world. And then the final fifty miles to Hana, the most spectacular drive in the world, all cliffs and bamboo forests and waterfalls and death defying curves until you drop down and find yourself just above an enchantig black sand beach.

I simply leapt from the car when dad had nudged it into a spot on the edge of the beach, then shamelessly stripped off my shorts and shirt as I ran toward the breaking surf, only turning back just as I reached the waterline, yelling back at dad, "C'mon hurry," before I turned and dove naked into the warm waters.

Surfacing I watched as he approached the waters edge with towels in his hands, watched him as he looked back to see if anyone could see him, then I smiled when he quickly lowered his shorts and dropped the towels and then, with one hand modestly covering his groin, moved out into the surf.

"You'll get us arrested," he complained as he neared me but I couldn't miss the dancing amusement in his eyes.

"You didn't have to come in," I countered as I slapped the water and sent a splash toward him. My breasts were bouncing just above the waterline, their pink nipples thick and hard, lures that I suddenly, crazily hoped would excite my own father.

"You're still as crazy as ever," he said with a grin.

"Did you miss me?" I teased as I sent another splashing wave at him.

"You'll never know how much honey," he said softly with a wry smile on his lips. My heart jumped!

We swam and laughed and splashed each other, touching, giggling like teenagers, for twenty minutes before finally exiting the surf. But, suddenly shy as soon as we left the water, both of us covered our groins with our hands as we shook the water from our bodies.

"So?" I finally asked.

"You've grown up," my father conceded as he ran his eyes from my head to toes and back again.

"Twenty-one in two days," I said as I pulled my shorts up and over my thighs, then peeked while he struggled to pull his shorts on. And then had to swallow a gasp when I saw how much bigger it was than it had been this morning. It may not have been fully erect but it darn sure was a little excited at seeing me. I'd given daddy a hard-on?

We ate dinner that night at a small dilapidated Tiki bar/restaurant on the north end of Hookipa, a place where every customer in the place looked like the quintessential beach bum...and dad seemed to know on a first name basis ninety percent of them. He introduced me simply as Kate, an old friend from the mainland.

"You didn't tell anyone I was your daughter," I said later as we drove the last miles back towards home.

"Sorry...I kinda thought I'd just let you be you...let people figure who you are themselves," he answered in the darkness of the car. "But I can make you a sign tomorrow," he teased.

"No, I liked it...heck, I must have, I didn't call you daddy once when people were around," I answered surprised at the realization of what I'd done.

"They thought I was your girlfriend," I said minutes later just as we turned into the overgrown lane that led to his door.

"Who did?" he demanded.

"When I was in the bathroom, in the bar, I heard a couple of girls complaining...they didn't know I was there..."

"Complaining about what?"

"Oh, of why the hell did he have to go get some girl from the mainland...what was wrong with the girls already here," I said laughing.

His question of, "Which girl said that?" I left unanswered.

It was after ten when we'd finally got home, and both exhausted from the busy day, we headed directly to bed, dad's last words before he disappeared a warning, "We have to get up early...before dawn."

"Why?" I asked but he'd already gone. Then I e-mailed Craig before I slipped naked between the sheets, a short message:

'Hi little brother, just want to let you know that it's perfect, Hawaii I mean...and you too...I owe you big time, big, big time...I love you so much...for everything ...I dreamed of you last night...LOL Katy".

But it was daddy's cock I dreamed of that night. Gosh can you even say cock when you're talking about your dad? And what was my 'Dream Katy' thinking she was going to do with it?

Hawaii, Tuesday, February 12th

"What time is it," I complained as I slowly came awake under the gentle pushing on my shoulder.

"C'mon, we gotta be in Kihei in fifteen minutes to catch the bus," dad urged as he grabbed my arm and pulled me up into a sitting position.

"It's still dark...bus? Where are we going?" I asked groggily. I was naked.

"You only got two minutes to shower and get dressed," he said, then put his arms around me from behind and pulled me to my feet. His hands closed over my chest as I teetered.

Now fully awake I leaned back into his chest, pretending a wobbliness even as I reveled in the feel of his hands as they cupped my breasts to support me. "C'mon Katy, don't fool around," he implored but I felt his hands moving on me, involuntarily caressing and measuring me even as he tried to steady me.

"But..."I stalled.

"We're going for a bike ride."

"A bike ride?" I asked as my nipples came alive under his fingers.

"Down a volcano," dad answered with a laugh, then released me and gave me a quick slap on the butt.

"A volcano?"

You become a god! Standing at 10,000 feet above sea level on top of Haleakala you can either look down into a volcanic crater that stretches some two miles across and a thousand feet deep...or you can look east and see the tropical jungle that appears and reappears through he clouds that nourish it...or you can look north and east and see the other islands in the chain, green oasis in the turquoise sea. And you just happen to be an artist.

And then we biked down from the summit, each turn, each switchback presenting a totally original and breathtaking view.

And then, after a lunch at the eastern base, my mind totally overloaded, dad bundled me into his car and motored us over to where he moored his boat.

"I want to go home and paint," I complained as he undid the lines, "my brain's full."

"You've seen it from above," he said pointing back towards the summit we'd just left, "now you're going to see it from below."

We motored down the coast a mile or so before dad slowed down and dropped anchor fifty yards offshore from a deserted beach that lay at the bottom of a hundred foot cliff. "Hey c'mon, get your suit on," he ordered as he pulled out diving gear from one of he side bins.

I quickly went below and changed into the suit Craig had chosen, and emerged topside seconds later, adjusting the small triangles over my breasts as I approached dad.

"Jesus!" he muttered when he looked up and saw me.

"What?" I asked as I picked up a mask off the back seat.

"Nothing...it's just that..."

"It's Craig's birthday present."

"Craig bought you that?" daddy asked dubiously. Seeing my nod yes he added, "Christ what was he thinking? Did he see you in it?"

"Uh huh," I said with an innocent smile as I pulled the mask over my head.

"And he thought that it was..."

"He said there was lots of competition over here daddy, that if I wanted to attract one of those handsome surfers I couldn't just sit back and wait...that I had to be proactive."

"You're certainly that," daddy said with a resigned smile.

"There aren't any boy surfers here though...maybe I should save it for later," I said, then unsnapped my top and let it fall and quickly followed that by pushing my little Brazilian bottom down. Then, seeing the protest about to come from his lips, I jumped over the side and entered an underwater paradise as extraordinary as the rest of these incredible islands.

Turtles, and I mean big turtles, swooping effortlessly above the reef, a reef that was populated by a million fish, fish more impossibly colorful than the maddest painter could ever imagine.

And what had come over me I asked myself as I glided down towards the reef below. I'd always had a shy modesty about my body, a modesty that had even made me uncomfortable showering after gym with my girlfriends in high school, and now, here two days in a row I found myself brazenly naked out in public. Was it something in the Hawaiian air? Or water? What was I trying to prove to my father?