Sailing to Pleasure Island

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Wife agrees to play game with natives...and loses!
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coops181
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We were only a day away from the island now after leaving our small homeport some two days previous. The weather had been perfect; a steady ten to fifteen knot sou' easterly had enabled us to sail on a comfortable reach for most of the way. Our lovely 33-foot yacht 'Interlude' made steady progress averaging around six and a half to seven knots through the slight seas. Because there was only my husband and I on this trip, quite short handed if we encountered any problems, we anchored up at night along the coast in a couple of the nice quiet coves and little bays that Ross knew of from past trips this way.

The warm Dry Season temperatures had given me the opportunity to work on my already honey coloured tan by lying out on the cabin roof dressed in nothing more than my new black "Wicked Weasel" bikini. It is a nice little suit made out of a unique sort of material called Eyelet Mesh, which basically means that it is full of little holes all fairly close together. This makes it almost completely see-through...if you are close enough to notice. My husband just loves it when I wear them, so he certainly didn't mind me not helping with the trimming of our sails as much as I normally would while I lazed about sunning myself. Oh, what a Bohemian life we had, sometimes!

We had ten days off work to go cruising over to an island that Ross sometimes visited for work reasons. I had never been there before and from what my husband had told me about it I was certainly looking forward to spending a few days relaxing there. He told me that it only had around one hundred inhabitants that were mostly descendents of the indigenous peoples that had been there for centuries. It was only a relatively small island; about ten miles long and shaped like a dumb-bell. Across the middle was only some four-mile or less. He said that it had two of the nicest little bays he had ever seen, one had the small community built near its sandy beaches. And on the other side, where we were going to anchor, was at this time of the year the leeward side of the island. Apparently it also had a nice white sandy beach too, and was very private most of the time with only the occasional local camping there to go fishing.

The island was off limits to the ordinary tourist and was rarely visited by outsiders at all, which was how the locals liked it, more fish for them! They just loved their fishing apparently. I was really looking forward to it because it sounded pretty special. Also, because Ross had told me a bit about one of the locals that lived there, a fellow he sometimes worked with (actually this man was the one who first suggested we sail over to visit). Waingu according to my husband was the descendent of a long line of headhunters! This really had me intrigued I must tell you. Waingu was all civilised of course so Ross informed me, as much as a black man can be while living on a tropical island, miles from anywhere. Still, I was very curious indeed. My husband gets to meet lots of interesting people in his job that takes him all over the countryside and now I was going to meet one of them.

Waingu was a South-Sea pearl diver for many years before he settled down with his wife on her island paradise some years ago. Ross assured me I would enjoy the contact with someone like Waingu, who still had a passion for life and loved to talk about his many experiences living in some pretty wild areas of the Pacific. It all sounded romantic to me, as silly as that may sound. You see I like things to be a bit wild every now and then. Mmm...a headhunter, I mean a pearl diver, hey? Not in my wildest dreams.

I tan-up very easily so by the time we were only half a day away from Waingu's island I was already as brown as a berry and my long blond hair contrasted nicely against my tanned shoulders. I had even removed my small top most days and tanned up my normally covered breasts, just to thrill my adoring husband of course. Still not satisfied, he even tried to cajole me into removing my little black bikini bottoms, but I wasn't budging. We had only seen four other boats out during our sail across, but that was enough for me to retain some decorum of modesty. After all, at thirty nine I was no spring chicken any more and no matter how much my husband told me that my five foot seven and a bit frame was as trim and beautiful as the day he first saw me some fifteen years ago, I was not going to go nude! Besides, the nature of the bikini material let enough sun through to my skin and when I did remove my g-string I had these gorgeous little brown spots dotted over my almost hairless quim!

* * *

On our final tack toward the island I could see my husband's description was very accurate indeed. It looked to be a very pretty island with its nice wide sandy palm-fringed beach and tall rainforest growing inland over low hills.

We dropped the pick in a wide bay on the leeward side of the island, as planned, some two hundred yards offshore in a safe 15 feet of perfectly clear water and Ross called his friend Waingu with our satellite phone to let him know we had arrived.

It wasn't long afterwards that we saw two men walk onto the beach and call out to us. Ross recognised his friend Waingu and after lowering our small inflatable tender we both jumped in and took off for shore.

Ross introduced me to Waingu first and then to the other man who was named Mulla. I liked Waingu instantly. He was tall and well built, with a completely shaved head and a small greying goatee. His features were handsome with a high forehead and a wide nose (something I imagined would not look out of place with a bone through it!). His smile was infectious and his dark eyes sparkled with intelligence and life. He appeared to be only in his early forties (I was later to learn from Ross that he was almost fifty!)

The other man Mulla was much younger and a lot darker skinned too, almost jet black. He had a thick head of dreadlocks that hung down past his broad shoulders. It turned out that he was Waingu's wife's younger brother. To me he appeared to be in his early twenties or possibly even younger. Mulla seemed shy and would not look me in the eye for very long. He said very little too as both Ross and Waingu re-acquainted themselves enthusiastically.

We walked up the beach and over a grassy sand-dune down to an old Toyota Landcruiser utility parked under a big old banyan tree. Waingu had offered to show me around his little community before it got too late in the day.

I sat in the middle as Waingu drove and Ross was next to me, Mulla sat in the back on the spare tyre. There were almost no bitumen roads on the island and the track across to the other side was fairly rough in places. Occasionally when Waingu changed gears his hand would brush against my thigh momentarily. I also had trouble stopping my short denim skirt from riding up my buttocks because of the bumps and corrugations along the way. In the end I gave up and just let it creep up well past my thighs, my bare butt cheeks stuck to the old vinyl seat with perspiration. Even my small breasts jiggled and bounced in my bikini top whenever we hit another patch of corrugations, making my sensitive nipples become somewhat erect!

Luckily it wasn't all that far to the other side of the island and upon entering the small town I thought it looked pleasant enough. I saw some of the local women gathering in the shade of a couple of large flame trees, they looked exotic dressed in their brightly coloured floral skirts. The children looked clean and happy and groups of them played out the front of their modest houses. Here and there were a few men working on old cars, or playing cards in the shade of their well kept gardens. I noticed a few short roads there that had bitumen sealing; no doubt it helped keep the dust down for most of the householders during the Dry and kept the mud to a minimum in the Wet.

Ross showed me where he stayed when he worked on the island and we visited the small shop on the way out to buy some cool cans of soft drink before we headed back to 'our' side of the island again.

Just as we headed back out, Mulla called out to Waingu in their native tongue and we stopped by an old home on the edge of town. Mulla went inside and some minutes later returned with a small canvas bag.

"Do you smoke gunja Angela?" Waingu asked me. I shook my head. It's just not my sort of thing.

"Ah...that is a pity. Ross, maybe we can entice you again?"

I looked at Ross. I didn't think he had smoked dope for years.

"Maybe just a toke or two Waingu," he said.

"We will get a fire going on the beach when we get back and enjoy ourselves a bit. What do you think Angela?" Waingu asked me politely.

I knew I had some bottles of wine aboard the Interlude and there were two chilling off as we spoke. "Yes. I think that would be nice Waingu."

Waingu patted my knee and gently squeezed my thigh. "It is nice to finally meet the wife of my good friend, Angela."

I tried not to show alarm at his intimate gesture and his hand dwelt on my bare thigh for another few moments before he had to change gears again over another patch of bad road. Ross didn't seem to notice the exchange and I said nothing. Maybe I should have, I had thought, just to put him straight, because then for most of the way back whenever he changed gears his hand brushed against my leg. Several times he even momentarily rested his forearm on my thigh; his dark skin made even my suntanned legs look pale by comparison.

The rest of the way back Ross and Waingu continued to chatter like a pair of old women. They certainly appeared to genuinely like one another I had to say! I glanced down at my lap a couple of times and could clearly see the front of my almost transparent black bikini was exposed due to my skirt riding up again and I tried to close my legs together to prevent Waingu from noticing my predicament should he choose to look!

When we finally arrived back near the beach again the rather handsome young man named Mulla jumped off the back of the vehicle and held the door open for me as I stepped out. Of course my short skirt rode up again as I slid across the sticky seat to hop out. I had my bikinis on I knew, but they were very, very brief, just those little g-strings and I wondered if Mulla would try to peek up my skirt at my crotch that I just knew would have been in almost full view to him.

Well I looked him in the eye just as I was about to step down and could see he did actually look a bit embarrassed. But, I also caught him steal a quick peek, if only for a brief second or two!

* * *

I had gone back to the Interlude alone to knock up a salad and gather a few steaks I had defrosted earlier for dinner. We were going to cook them on a grill that was already heating up on a small fire the men had built on the beach. I also decided to grab the chilled wine and a couple of glasses. Then I dragged out a large picnic blanket to add to the ones that Waingu had pulled out from behind the Toyota's seat.

The sun had set over the beautiful azure tropical sea and it was beginning to get dark. I knew it was going to be an almost full moon though and there was not a cloud in the sky. Soon we would be able to see again almost as clearly as daylight.

* * *

Well our steaks had gone down nicely and I watched closely while sipping my wine as the three men shared some Kava that Mulla had brought from his house. Kava is a horrible tasting (so I am told) narcotic type of drink that is favoured by the natives of some of the Pacific islands. It is a powder that derives from a local plant. The yellow powder is mixed with water. I think it looks like dishwater and guessed that it probably tasted like it too. But the men seemed to be enjoying the effects of it.

I knew that if you drunk too much it would induce sleep fairly quickly. I hoped that my husband did not drink too much of the vile looking stuff, or smoke too much more of Mulla's strong gunja either!

We all talked and laughed a lot for a couple of hours and I learnt a little more about Waingu's people. Mulla was fairly quiet for the most part, in a polite sort of way. Although I did catch him steal glances at me occasionally and say something to his brother-in-law in their native language moments afterward. If it hadn't been for the few glasses of wine I had consumed I may have been slightly annoyed that they weren't' speaking English when this happened.

My husband and Mulla did seem to have two tokes of the acrid smelling joint to Waingu's one and more Kava than I cared to know about as well. Ross had gradually become very quiet too and I guessed he was not far off crashing out.

Later on as the conversation died down, I went for a stroll up the beach to stretch my legs. The walk did me good and I returned to the welcoming fire some twenty minutes or so later and discovered that only Waingu was awake still!

Waingu smiled at me as I sat back down on the rug. "I think Ross will sleep very well now Angela," he said in his deep baritone voice. "Kava does not give you any bad effect in the morning like alcohol does either. If you don't mind, I will wait here a little while longer while my young brother-in-law sleeps peacefully."

Waingu looked at me as he spoke and I actually felt a slight tingle in my pussy knowing that I was almost alone with this handsome black man.

"You can stay as long as you like Waingu," I purred, as I laid back and finished my fourth glass of wine for the evening. Way more than I would normally have!

Waingu nodded and smiled again. He was sitting near my feet and I noticed his eyes wander down my body slowly and back up again to meet my gaze. I did not mind too much as he made no sleazy attempt to hide the fact. I knew he was just 'checking me out' and I was flattered in a kind of nice way. I do not seem to get as many handsome men look at me like that these days and with Waingu's gaze still upon me I felt myself even moisten up slightly at his interest. I felt sooo relaxed.

"I hope you don't mind me saying so Angela, but I think you are a very attractive woman."

His openness took me quite by surprise and I felt myself blush slightly. "Why thankyou Waingu, and might I say that you are a very handsome man."

My heart skipped a beat when I said this and I wriggled my toes subconsciously. Waingu glanced down at my small feet and without saying a word, reached down and tenderly placed his large hand beneath my right ankle and lifted my foot onto his lap. He then began to ever so gently massage the sole of my foot. It felt absolutely heavenly and I made no attempt to stop him.

"Mmm...that's sooo nice Waingu. You have the most magical fingers," I crooned softly. My bare foot looked so tiny in his big strong hands.

Waingu did not favour just my right foot though and just as wordlessly he picked up my other foot to afford it equal attention. I laid back and closed my eyes, luxuriating in his touch. I was, though, well aware that Waingu could now quite likely see up my short skirt. I knew that if he cared to look closer between my slightly parted thighs that he would more than likely notice that my bikini was partially damp where it afforded my vulva that small amount of modesty!

But I didn't care! I was in heaven and enjoying every moment of his careful ministrations. I felt his hands wander up my smooth calf muscle and rub it slowly before he moved up further, behind my knee and draw small circles lightly. I felt so wonderful at that moment, the moon, the wine, the warm air wafting across the sand and Waingu caressing my legs as I lay next to my sleeping husband. Oh how titillating a feeling it all added up to.

Waingu's fingers moved up past my knee and onto my thigh where he continued to draw small circles with just the tips of his fingers. Occasionally it tickled me and I would move my butt around, grinding the blanket into the soft sand, and he moved up even nearer to my upper thigh.

Then I felt his fingers very slowly caressing my inner thighs, now only a couple of inches away from my moist pussy. I wondered at how daring he was going to be and I positively squirmed at his touch!

It was not until I felt his other hand attempt to open my slightly parted legs even wider that I finally snapped out of my almost total serenity. I wondered what I might have let him do had I had even more wine, and I was not lying next to my sleeping husband!

"Thankyou Waingu, that was very pleasant. You have a wonderful touch," I said courteously as I withdrew my feet from his lap and sat back up, tucking my legs beneath me. It had felt good, that was the problem, and it was because it was feeling just a bit too good that I had to stop him!

* * *

Yes, it was almost a full moon and looking out over the gently lapping waves as they caressed the sloping shoreline I could clearly see the Interlude, our beloved Mottle, a centre-cockpit sloop resting at anchor. The setting looked so serene I was very tempted to go for a swim.

My husband still lay on his back next to me sleeping peacefully. No doubt the combination of the Kava a gunja, along with the effort of sailing here the last few days had contributed to his deep slumber.

Mulla appeared to be sleeping just as soundly and he lay several feet away from the fire as it crackled away. There was a nice aromatic smell in the air. It came from the smoke of the small dry pieces of native cypress Waingu had placed on the fire earlier to keep the few insects that were around at bay.

I looked back over at Waingu again. He was quiet since I had pulled my legs away and had sat back up. He was now resting back on his elbows staring at the flames. He must have sensed my gaze and he looked back at me and smiled.

"So my dear what do you think of my little island so far?" he asked, breaking the long minutes of silence.

"I think it is quite beautiful Waingu. Not at all like some of the other islands I have been to. The water, it looks so clear and inviting with its beautiful clean white sandy bottom. I was just thinking how nice it would be to swim now under this lovely bright moonlight."

"Would you like to do this Angela? I am sure you will find the water very pleasant at this time of year. I will watch you if you wish?"

"Mmm...just watch me? Surely that sounds a bit suss'. Why wouldn't you like to come in also Waingu? I would feel more relaxed if a local were nearby."

"Ah yes. I could go swimming with you if it makes you feel more comfortable. You do not think your husband will mind?"

I looked over again at Ross. He was truly out of it. He probably should not have had the dope as he does not normally smoke it. Come to think of it, he is not a big fan of Kava either! My poor hubby was not going to miss me.

"My husband wont mind Waingu, I can assure you." Of course I still had my bikinis on beneath my skirt and tee-shirt so that was not a problem either.

"Angela, I will come in with you if you wish, but I must warn you that I do not swim in my jeans. It is far too restrictive and not good for the material. Now my concern for you is this; beneath my jeans I wear nothing! Are you quite sure you still want me to accompany you?"

I sighed. Now I am no shrinking violet and over the years I have of course seen numerous men naked before so I naturally tried not to show Waingu that there wasn't any problem with his predicament. Actually, I was just a tad excited at the prospect! I had never seen a black man naked before, and to be honest, I was slightly curious to find out if there was any truth in the rumours and innuendos that you hear so much about black men.

"Waingu, I will try not to look when you disrobe, okay?" I then stood up and removed my tee-shirt, dropping it onto my large towel that was folded on the blanket.

I looked over to where Waingu was still sitting and noticed he was watching me with those dark piercing eyes of his. He casually looked me in the eye and smiled, his perfect white teeth gleamed in the moonlight. I had to admit that for a man in his forties he was ruggedly handsome. I don't think I had ever found a black man that attracted me so much before! I guessed it was the Pacific island blood in him that made him different to others I had met in the past.

coops181
coops181
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