Skittish Kitten

When all was said and done, the jury came back in just under an hour, finding her ex guilty of attempted murder, burglary, arson, and a few other relatively minor crimes. Sentencing was set for another two weeks away.

Meg was still not herself, being alternatively sexy, and remote. When she was sexy, things were still not good, as she still seemed to be feeling that "trashy" was better. I couldn't seem to talk to her about this, primarily because I didn't know how to say it.

The "big" day came, and the judge sentenced her ex to prison for each of the crimes the jury had found him guilty of. Each of the sentences was to run consecutively (one after the other), because the judge found that they were individual, separate acts, and that there was nothing in the probation report that indicated that he should show any leniency. Although the total was somewhat confusing, it boiled down to he was doing a minimum of 15 years to life. He got credit for time served, and if the parole board decided that he was a "good guy", he could get out in about ten years.

I felt as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders - one I hadn't known had been there. Meg, on the other hand, seemed to feel relieved, but also that she had failed somewhere.

Our dinner that night wasn't romantic, and although we made love, sex wasn't wonderful - it was like we were both going through the motions, but didn't know where we were going.

The next few days continued like this, and we were both trying to be our normal selves, but simply not quite making it. The frustrations simply were becoming too much. I made up my mind that we would go to the cabin the following weekend, if I could persuade her to do it. I called, and got the keys and directions, and made my plans.

By Thursday evening I had managed to convince Meg that we needed to get away from home, and be by ourselves for a romantic weekend. I had purchased all the food and drink that we might need, and had it stored in the refrigerator, ready for our trip. Meg came home early on Friday; so we were able to get on the road by 1:00 pm, for our four-hour drive to the mountains. We loaded up her SUV, and got rolling. On the way we talked, kidded each other, read to each other, and generally started to remake the last few of weeks of our relationship.

We got to the cabin, and let ourselves in, putting the food away, and making the bed in the biggest bedroom - there were three - then simply walking around the property and seeing what there was to see. The cabin was in a wooded area above a lake. Evergreens surrounded the property, and a hot tub with a roof sheltering it looked out over the lake. It was chilly, at least for those folks who came from the "flatlands', and I gathered up enough firewood to keep us warm for the night.

I started a fire, even though it wasn't really cold enough to require it, but I felt that a fire might help us build the romantic feeling that we had enjoyed just a few weeks before. I started the hot tub heating, just in case, and the two of us simply started trying to be ourselves, helping each other in the kitchen, putting things away, and selecting music for the stereo system. I showered and shaved quickly, as I was to be the barbeque master for the evening, then Meg went and took a long, hot bath.

By the time evening truly rolled around, we were both much more relaxed - in large part because we had let the other "do their own thing" for an hour or two, without trying to impose ourselves on each other.

We had our evening drink, and I started the barbeque while Meg made a quick salad. We talked for a bit, and I started trying to play the game of who could be the most suggestive in word play, while really not being crude. This seemed to light a spark, and the evening took on its own mood - playful and sexy, but still a bit cautious. I have no idea what we were being cautious about, we just were. As we finished our drinks, I cooked a combination of steak and shrimp on the barbeque, finishing as we both finished our drinks.

Dinner was wonderful - the meat and shrimp was cooked to perfection - and most importantly, we were talking again as though we had never had an issue. Over dinner we talked out what had been bothering us - none of which had anything to do with the other, really - then I brought out the old bottle of brandy that I had been saving for years.

I poured each of us a generous libation, and suggested that we retire to overlook the lake and the surrounding environment. We left our clothes where we took them off and climbed into the hot tub, just relishing the cold night air and the dusk, which came so late at this time of year. The chilly mountain air made Meg's nipples stand out absolutely straight, which in turn caused me to become immediately erect, and giving me hope for the evening.

We each drank our tipple, then I poured us one more, and as we talked, we came to sit closer and closer - not that we had been apart, but we were now hip to hip, thigh to thigh, with my arm around her shoulders, as we watched the last of the sun disappear into the hills. I kissed Meg gently, and told her I loved her. She snuggled down into my arms, with her head on my shoulder as the darkness sank over the valley, and the last light faded from the lake.

I kissed her again, as my fingers and hand explored her breasts, running feather light across her nipples. The lights from the candles in the bedroom and on the deck flickered, casting moving shadows across the water, and making every move seem to be sensuous. We stayed like this for quite some time, kissing as we seemed to feel it necessary, running our hands and fingers over the other as the mood struck us, until we were both quite ready to make love in the hot tub, the lack of lubrication being only a minor omission.

Meg stood up, the water sheeting off of her breasts and down across her hips and mound, her nipples standing erect in the cold night air, as she held out her hand to me, saying, "Let's go enjoy ourselves in a less confining environment."

I took her hand and followed her into the bedroom, bringing both towels with me. We dried each other off, letting our hands roam where they might, then sinking down onto the bed. Meg roused herself for just a moment, to bring her handbag to the side of the bed, then sank back down into my arms as we let ourselves discover the other all over again. I now knew what "seeing with my hands meant", and let them roam with the full intention of finding out what they could see.

We grasped and fondled, licked and sucked until we were both hovering on the edge of climax. I flicked Meg's clit with my tongue for just a few licks, and she went over the edge, her hips bucking, and I nestled down next to her for a few minutes to give her a bit of time to recover.

A few moments later - far sooner than I would have imagined, Meg begin to kiss me, then fondle me as her kisses strayed further south than they had started. She licked a bit on me, sucking in slightly, then letting go slowly, as she cupped me in her hand. I was lying back and enjoying the sensations, when I felt something cool and slippery being applied to me - I opened my eyes and found that Meg had a tube of ointment - apparently from her hand bag - and was applying it to my head and down my shaft. She warmed the ointment by sliding her hand up and down me, and blowing gently, until I was fully erect and absolutely throbbing.

Meg sat up, turned over, and told me that she knew I liked anal sex, and that tonight she wanted it also. She knelt, pulled a pillow up to her stomach, then knelt down so that she was fully open to any advances I might make.

I knelt between her legs, and positioned myself at her opening, and gently pushed. Meg caught her breath, as she often does, when I first entered her, then begin to rock back against me. We were practiced at this enough that we soon caught each other's rhythm, and I pushed in as she rocked back, locking me in her, with her muscles clamping down on me. It seemed like it was only seconds before I erupted, my muscles in an almost continual spasm, and I collapsed beside Meg. We kissed, and touched each other in a dreamy state until I drifted off to sleep. A few minutes later (I really don't know), I awoke to a warm wonderful sensation on my groin. After a few seconds of bewilderment I realized that Meg was washing me with a warm washcloth.

Meg finished, then snuggled down into bed alongside me, letting me recover as much as I could. After a few minutes, Meg begin to kiss and fondle me, letting her kisses head further south with each pass. This continued until I was fully erect again, and Meg didn't say a word, she simply straddled me, slipped me inside her, and begin rocking back and forth with me trapped inside her. She dipped down to let her nipples trace across my chest, and I captured first one then the other in my mouth. We continued slowly until Meg suddenly stiffened, then started rocking her hips frantically. I grasped her breasts, letting my thumbs rub across her nipples, and she cried out as she ground herself into me. Her frantic hip movements slowed a bit as she climaxed, and became a bit more sensuous, and within seconds, I joined her in my own climax.

I pulled Meg down beside me, and we simply shared space on the bed as we both recovered, then slipped off into dreamland.

--000—

Meg and I had been living together now for about two years, and were thinking of finally taking a real vacation, instead of just the long weekends that we had been taking. We had looked through all the travel brochures we could lay our hands on, considering Europe, Hawaii, South America, Alaskan cruises, and hadn't really found anything that we were both wild about.

As it was our first real vacation, we both wanted it to be a memorable one, and nothing we had seen so far seemed to really have the potential to fall into that category. We finally started e-mailing various friends and acquaintances around the world asking for their ideas.

Finally, one of Meg's college friends, Pam, wrote back and asked if we had considered going to the islands of French Polynesia - essentially Tahiti, Bora Bora, and Raiatea (although there are many other islands). Pam had majored in French in college, and ultimately wound up marrying a Frenchman, who was an English teacher on Raiatea.

After several exchanges between Meg and Pam, Pam proposed that we come to Raiatea, stay in their home, while Pam and her husband, Jacque, stayed in our home. Meg and I talked it over, and this seemed to be the best idea we had come up with yet.

Ultimately it was decided that we would fly to Tahiti, spend the night in Papeete, then fly on to Raiatea, where we would be met by Pam and Jacque. We would stay for two weeks on Raiatea, then take one of the inter-island ferries to Bora Bora for another few days before returning home. Pam and her husband would meet us in Raiatea on our arrival and show us a bit of the island before they left the following day.

We departed for Tahiti in the early evening, and had a lovely flight. The food was very good - for airline food it was the equivalent of a five star restaurant. The plane was not crowded, so we were even able to sleep fairly comfortably on the long flight. There was even a map on the wall at the front of each section that showed our starting point, our destination, and where we actually were, as well as estimated flying time left, speed etc.

We arrived in Papeete about 10:00 a.m. local time, got a taxi to our hotel, and spent the day wandering around Papeete. I was a little disappointed in Papeete, as it struck me it wasn't much more than a slightly less commercial version of Waikiki. There were lots of things to buy, but it seemed so commercial, that we both decided that we would wait for any purchases, until we got back to Papeete on the return journey, or perhaps make them in less commercial areas on the other islands.

Early the following morning we caught our flight to Raiatea, a twin-engine prop plane with perhaps 30 people on board.

Flying into Raiatea was simply mind-boggling - as we descended for a landing, we could see the waters surrounding Raiatea (and it's sister island Tahaa.) The blues of the water were breathtaking, and like nothing I had ever seen before. The colors ranged from a pale blue-green, to the dark blue of lapis - it seemed as though you could simply reach out and touch them they were so vivid. This was far more like what I had expected of our trip to an island paradise.

The terminal was a relatively small one story building, from which you could watch your baggage being unloaded, then carted up to the luggage claim area, which was not much more than a couple of large, angled shelves that the luggage could be slung onto from the carts that brought it from the airplane.

Pam and Jacque met us with flower leis (something that I later found out was not really common there). Pam was a very pretty woman, about the same age as Meg, and with a tan that even Californians would have died for. Jacque was about my size and age, and I suppose Meg would have considered him handsome. We tossed our bags in the trunk of their car, and Pam announced that they would take us on a tour of the island before we went to their home.

Our first stop, after leaving the airport was Utoroa, the main (in fact the only) town of any real size. Here we were shown the markets (no shopping malls or supermarkets here), and Utoroa's downtown area - which had maybe fifteen stores total, many of those very small, hole-in-the-wall type of shops.

We then went on a drive to show us the more populated areas of the island. As we passed a beach area (there are no really sandy beaches on Raiatea), Meg pointed a woman out to me that was only wearing a bikini bottom, with her bare breasts jutting out in front of her. Pam noticed our somewhat surprised looks, and told us that it was quite common for locals, as well as the European visitors to go topless near the water. As Pam explained it, the topless look was quite acceptable when you were at the beach, but not really acceptable at the market, and so forth.

We had an early lunch at a small café that really wasn't much more than a few tables and a waiter/cook. Jacque suggested that we try the Poisson Cru, a salad made of raw tuna, "cooked" in limejuice just before serving, and the local beer. We did, and the Poisson Cru immediately became one of my favorite dishes. The taste cannot be adequately described, but it has lime, coconut milk, and a variety of other flavors that make it so wonderful that it almost cannot be described.

Jacque and Pam took us back to their home, where we unpacked, and shortly we were ready to resume our tour, this time in their boat. Pam and Jacque took us back to Utoroa, and their boat, a 15 or 20-foot runabout, with an outboard motor.

We headed out from the small boat basin for Pam and Jacque's favorite motu (small islands in the lagoon). We went out through the harbor entrance and Jacque showed us the safe channels used to avoid the coral heads that would rip the bottom out of a boat. After a little less than an hour we arrived at the motu, with almost unbelievable white beaches, and absolutely crystal clear water.

We anchored about 20 or 30 yards offshore to go swimming. Jacque explained that the mosquitoes were particularly bad on the motus, so that we wouldn't actually go ashore, unless we lathered ourselves with mosquito repellent. Pam stood up and unbuttoned her blouse, revealing pert, upstanding breasts. I am sure that I was standing there with my mouth somewhat open, but Pam just laughed, explaining that she always went swimming topless. Meg turned absolutely red for a moment, then took off her own blouse and shorts, revealing a quite skimpy bikini that she had purchased before we left home. Meg had been struck with a bit of buyer's remorse when she first modeled it for me, thinking it was too skimpy, and had fussed a bit this morning, making sure she had shaved her pubic hair enough for her to be able to wear the bottom without having hair peeking out. Meg normally shaved her pubic hair quite a bit, but this bikini bottom was skimpy enough to require even more shaving than she normally did - not that I objected, mind you.

Jacque and I took off our shirts, and shorts, and I started to jump over into the water, when Pam stopped me, saying that we would be horribly sunburned if we didn't put sunscreen on first. Pam handed me a bottle of sunscreen, then stripped off her shorts, showing a bikini bottom that made Meg's look ultra conservative - it really wasn't as concealing as a pair of thong panties, and in fact didn't hide much of anything. It was obvious that Pam either shaved herself entirely, or so close to it as to make no difference.

I put sunscreen on my front and legs, then asked Meg to put it on my back. After she had rubbed it in, she started to put the sunscreen on herself, then suddenly stopped and kind of looked off into the distance as though she were having a discussion with herself.

I was just starting to ask if something was wrong when she shrugged, and muttered something about "When in Rome", reached behind her, and untied her bikini top, tossing it onto the rest of her clothes.

I was absolutely astounded. Meg's upbringing had been a quite conservative religious one, and while she had come a long way in terms of our sexual relationship, I would have never guessed that she would go so far as to bare her breasts in public. Pam laughed and clapped her hands, telling Meg that I must be good for her, as she had been such a prude in college that she would have thought a bikini would have been too risqué for her. Meg turned beet red, and appeared to concentrate on rubbing the sunscreen on her breasts and stomach, not saying a word.

After we were all "sun screened", we jumped or climbed (depending on our inclination) off the boat into the crystal clear water. I was reminded of a swimming pool, the water was so clear and warm. Pam and Jacque showed us where the reef fish flickered about the coral heads.

The colors were absolutely breathtaking, and it was with reluctance that I finally climbed back on the boat, but swimming and snorkeling for over an hour had quite drained my energy, and I needed a rest. Everyone else was soon back aboard, and Pam opened the ice chest they had brought, handing out beers, cheese and cold cuts for a snack.

We chatted about various things while we ate, mainly about the islands, what to do and what to see. Although Jacque would occasionally interject a comment, he was as he had been all day, mainly silent unless he had something he considered important to say. He was a very nice man, he just didn't seem to talk much - perhaps it was because we were strangers.

Pam, on the other hand, just seemed to bubble over with words, talking about this, then that, almost without a pause between subjects.

We finished eating, swam for another hour or so, then started back for the harbor. Once everything had been put away, Pam asked if anyone minded if she sunbathed in the nude. She said that this was not normally acceptable on a beach, or in front of strangers, but this would be the last chance she would have before they flew out in the morning, and she simply wanted to get her "sun-worshiping" done.

I told her that I certainly didn't care one way or the other; Meg blushed, and told her to go ahead. Pam immediately took off the bikini bottom, showing that while she didn't exactly shave herself completely, the little hair she had left didn't do much more than act as a directional sign saying down here (a very narrow triangle pointing downward would be a very simplistic way of putting it).

Jacque had me drive the boat back to the harbor, making sure I understood where I could and could not go. Shortly before we got back to the harbor, Jacque stripped off his swimsuit, without any comment, pulling on his shorts and shirt, and Pam put her shorts back on, slipping into her blouse, saying that it kept the car seats from getting sand and water on them.