All Aboard

We'd heard about some interesting coastal caves a bit further on, so we rode as far as we could, then left the bikes and followed the rocky trail to the caves. That's when we met the crew of the cat. They were four Americans, all around my age or older and very affable.

Glen was the captain and owner of the cat, tall, tanned and in great shape for a guy in his early sixties. He reminded me of George Clooney and like George had a great sense of humor. We started swapping jokes almost straight away. It turns out jokes are international. He knew a lot of mine and vice versa. I doubt that he was as wealthy as George but he was certainly rich, already retired, divorced for the second time and now sailing the pacific.

Rusty was older, shorter, balding with a short white beard. He had been at sea most of his life and was a tough, taciturn nuggety character but there was a twinkle in his blue eyes which almost disappeared into his wrinkles when he grinned.

I didn't warm to the third guy, Keith. He was the youngest, around forty six. He was a big, fleshy sort of dude and a bit too friendly, especially towards Jenn. All the guys were obviously attracted to my wife, I repeat, who wouldn't be? But Keith's interest seemed more intense, more predatory. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him and he was too heavy to throw.

I could make up a name for the fourth guy and you wouldn't know the difference but to be honest I can't remember his name or his face. Let's call him crewman Jones, with a nod to Eddie Murphy. (In the original Star Trek series, Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock and Bones frequently beamed down to the same unconvincing arid planet always taking along at least one unknown, expendable crew member who would die horribly at the hands or tentacles of some monster. Eddie does a hilarious comedic bit as crewman Jones just before he has to beam down. "I know what'll happen if I go down there. There's no way in hell I'm getting in that transporter." Don't worry. Nothing bad happens to our crewman Jones except that he has an insignificant part in this story.)

We walked, talked and spelunked with our new American buddies. The caves were rugged and reasonably impressive, definitely worth a quick visit. We headed back up the track as a group. I was walking with Glen, Keith was with Jenn while Rusty and crewman Jones brought up the rear. Glen mentioned that they were going to Matavai for dinner that night and invited us along, his treat.

I made polite "we'll pay for ourselves" noises but he insisted.

I turned back to Jenn. "Glen's kindly invited us to the Matavai tonight... dinner and dancing... what do you say."

Jenn flashed Glen a winning smile "Hell yeah!" They all laughed. "Thanks Glen, that would be wonderful."

We agreed to meet at the Matavai at 7pm.

Bikes returned, lunch eaten, we walked a little way down the road to a path we'd passed several times. It led down to a "beach." Allow me to explain the inverted commas. Niue, as I said at the start is like a big lump of rock. It's almost entirely surrounded by cliffs, not towering, majestic cliffs but rather steep, ragged walls which unfortunately are too low to block the waves of a really big storm. Below the cliffs there are coral reefs then a drop off into very deep water, making it great place for fishing, whale watching and swimming with dolphins.

The cliff we descended was less than thirty feet and at the bottom there was actually a small patch of sand, only a few strides wide but enough to stretch out on. Beyond the beach was the usual coral maze, not a pleasant prospect for bare feet and delicate skin, but this coral had a trench about five feet wide and thirty feet long with a smooth sandy bottom. No it wasn't Tahiti or an olympic pool but it was all we had and we were going to make the most of it.

Even though the space was restricted the water was superb, cool but not cold and crystal clear. The coral on both sides of us formed all sorts of fascinating shapes and there were lots of little fish. I did see one very small, striped sea snake about four inches long and as thick as your little finger (or your penis if the gods were cruel). I'd been told that their mouths are too tiny to bite but I still didn't point it out to Jenn.

I put one hand between her shoulders and told her to lie back, close her eyes and relax. The other I slid under her backside, mostly to support her but also, of course, to cop a feel. Gently I floated Jenn up the trench, slowly turned her and floated her down again. The water flowed over her sleek body in her form fitting black one piece. It was an idyllic scene of tranquility and privacy, no people around, no way we could be seen from the road, no buildings overlooking our little haven.

It would have been perfectly peaceful except for another snake, a one eyed trouser snake that was stirring in my board shorts. I slipped my left hand up to the middle of Jenn's back and with my right I stroked her face, her neck, her shoulder and the strap of her swimsuit. Somehow the strap just happened to slip down over her shoulder and strangely enough the other strap did the same thing. Jenn smiled but didn't open her eyes.

Although the stretchy fabric was tight over her chest, with a little persuasion it slipped down nicely and her gorgeous breasts were exposed, supported by the water. The coolness and some skilled finger work had her nipples standing proudly erect and poking up above the surface. I bent down and kissed Jenn's wet lips. They were slightly salty and at that moment I felt absolutely overwhelmed by my love for her.

Apparently some prostitutes won't kiss on the lips because they find it more intimate than fucking. I can understand what they mean. Even after twenty years and countless kisses I still find that when Jenn and I duel with our tongues in a prolonged, passionate exchange it's probably the most powerful turn on possible.

Jenn responded to my adoration with mounting excitement. She reached down and with a bit of effort squiggled out of her swimsuit all together. Standing now, she pulled down my board shorts and stroked my cock which was almost as hard as the coral outcrops around us but fortunately much less abrasive.

I put both my hands under her ample ass and lifted her towards me. Jenn wrapped her legs around my waist and used her right hand to steer my erection into her welcoming pussy. This wasn't a position I could maintain on dry land but with the water taking most of Jenn's weight it was easy; not actually the most effective positive for intense sexual stimulation but a magical moment; Jenn's face suffused with bliss, her breasts full, wet and glistening, my cock buried deep in the warmth of her body. Neither of us managed to cum as we rocked gently in the Pacific but that moment will always be in my memory as the best and most beautiful foreplay ever.

We relaxed on the beach for a while then walked back to our motel, fully dressed. Niue is a conservative place and displays of bare flesh were very much frowned upon. Back at our bargain accommodation Jenn and I showered together, only to conserve water. Looking at the four inch hole in the wall Jenn grinned.

"You know this place is really well set up for voyeurs," she observed.

"And of course they could be used as glory holes."

"Glory holes?"

"Holes where a guy sticks his cock through from the other side..."

Jenn bumped into me playfully. "I know what a glory hole is, grandad. I'm not that innocent. I suppose you've had lots of glory hole experience."

"None whatsoever my worldly wife and neither have you."

"Oh I don't know." Jenn grinned evilly. "You go and stick your cock through that hole and I'll bite it off... I mean suck... that's right... suck it off. I always get those two confused."

Back in our unit I had a nap while Jenn got herself ready for our trip to the Matavai. I had packed one pair of decent pants and a matching shirt so dressing would take me about two minutes. Jenn had bought a choice of dresses, accessories and of course there was hair and make up to complete.

When I woke up (it's amazing how refreshing a thirty minute nap can be) Jenn looked amazing. She was wearing a black dress that had a bit of a sparkle in the fabric. It had one broad strap across her right shoulder, leaving her left shoulder and arms beautifully bare. Her hair fell in lustrous curls just below her neck. To be honest, I don't have a clue what she was wearing on her feet except they were shoes and they were probably black. My gaze didn't go much below her bust which was doing such a spectacular job of filling out and holding up her dress. The dress showed off a breathtaking amount of cleavage and while it finished modestly below her knees it had slits on both sides which revealed tantalizing glimpses of thigh.

Jenn spun around and posed for me. "Too much?" she asked with a sexy smile.

"Way too much! I love it! There is a problem though..."

"What's that?"

"We're going to have four American sailors walking round with huge boners in their pants... I mean how embarrassing is that?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe I could handle a little yankee pankee."

"Well in that case," I remarked, going down on my knees in front of Jenn, "You won't be needing these!"

I reached up under her skirt and pulled down her panties. Now you may wonder what sort of perverted moron takes his wife's panties off just before she's about to go out in public with four randy sailors? I agree. It wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done but in my defense both Jenn and I were still feeling aroused from our afternoon aquatic activities. We had done the no panties thing many times before and it always made Jenn extremely horny. She told me that when she was going commando she was aware of her naked pussy all the time and sex was constantly on her mind. And anyway, the panties were so tiny, just a flimsy bit of lace, they hardly counted anyway.

Bazza lent us a car for the evening. Not the Wanker but a elderly Corolla that had belonged to his wife. It still ran, a tribute to Toyota durability and was two toned, yellow and rust. Jenn christened it "the Limo".

Bazza was almost speechless when he saw my wife in her cocktail dress. "You look... fucking... gorgeous. Excuse my French. You watch out for those American guys. They'll be all over you like flies on a dead dingo, dressed like that. Bloody yanks... over paid, over sexed and over here... that's what they used to say."

When we finally reached the Matavai our four Americans were already at a table. They leaped to their feet when they saw Jenn enter and clustered round her, ignoring me. I didn't mind. It gave me a certain smug satisfaction that these guys were so keenly lusting after my wife but didn't stand a chance. Tonight it would be me and only me who enjoyed her bountiful body and the valley of delights that waited, moist, warm and pantiless between her thighs.

The compliments, the drinks and the conversation flowed. The buffet was delicious and plentiful. The decor was colorful and the view out over the sea was spectacular. The whole resort was build on the edge of a cliff and was far and away the best Niue had to offer. In Auckland it would have rated a three but in Niue it was definitely five star. I'm sure the guests here could take long, hot showers and didn't have to worry about holes in their bathroom walls.

There was a local cultural show, an all guy group doing warlike dances to a fast drum beat, twirling wooden weapons and stomping about. Glen was plying me with drinks and I was feeling no pain. After the performance a small band started playing dance music. Of course the guys wanted to dance with my wife. I gave Jenn an inquiring look and she nodded happily. Glen had the first dance and not surprisingly he danced well, much better than I could. Keith had the next dance and I thought Jenn might have to beat him off with one of the wooden clubs. He had been chatting her up throughout the meal, making sure her glass was never empty. After a while I cut in and he surrendered his position reluctantly.

"Having fun?" I asked her quietly.

"Definitely."

"I could try to get us a room here."

"No. We've got to get the Limo back to Bazza. And anyway... I kind of like our humble abode. It's got character."

"That's about all it's got. I can't wait to get you back there to do some horizontal dancing."

Jenn put on a broad southern belle accent "Why Mr Sanderson, what ever do you mean?"

"Shall we say goodnight and go?"

"Why that could be just a trifle rude to our hosts, honey child. They clearly want to spend some more time with little ole me... worshiping my bodacious body."

"OK, just a couple more dances then we make like an atom and split."

Jenn just grinned at me with her naughty girl expression.

My dear old dad used to say "Never let the facts stand in the way of a good story." There are lots of far fetched stories where the "loving" wife gets fucked by strangers on the dance floor, or fingered at the table or gang banged in the car park after the dance causing her husband anything from anguish to orgasm. However in this story I'm going to stick to the facts.

Jenn enjoyed several more dances. She danced twice more with each of the guys, including crewman Jones... so at least he had a bit of fun in this tale. Then came the slow dances. Keith made the most of these, with his big paws roaming the range much too freely. Glen wasn't so obvious but there was certainly some grinding going on. The guy probably had a huge penis. He seemed to have everything else. Rusty sat out the last dances. Watching my wife and Keith he leaned over to me.

"You OK with that? That boy's a mite too free with his hands if you ask me."

I was about to tell him that Jenn was a mature woman and could take care of herself but at that moment she broke away from Keith looking red faced and flustered. I stood quickly and went over, put my arm around her, glared at Keith and walked her back to the table.

I said our goodbyes and thank-yous to Glen then escorted Jenn to our Limo.

"Are you OK my darling wife?"

"I'm fine. I had a great time tonight until Keith put his hand up my skirt."

"I'll kill the bastard!"

"That's probably a bit extreme. Just beat him to within an inch of his life. And kill crewman Jones while you're about it."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing, but crewman Jones always gets killed." (Jenn didn't really say that last bit but I couldn't resist.)

"Home James and don't spare the horses. You OK to drive?"

"I think so. There's no traffic and it's not far."

"I'm too tipsy. And too horny. I'm so hot right now I can't see straight."

"Maybe I should be thanking Keith, not beating him to a pulp."

"No... it was all the dancing before that got me going... especially with you and Glen. Keith didn't do much for me at all but he did discover I wasn't wearing panties. Probably thinks I'm a total slut."

"Mmm but you're my slut."

"You have no idea."

If our motel had been further away I'm sure Jenn would have jumped me in the car. We parked it quietly and hurried back to our unit where I proceeded to give Jenn her first twenty one rooster orgasm. I suppose I'd better explain that.

Niue was overrun with hens and roosters, breeding wild in the bush. (Strangely if you wanted to buy chicken in the shop it was overpriced Pam's frozen chicken imported from New Zealand.) You may think that roosters only crow at dawn but in fact they crow any time that they're alarmed. We discovered there was a rooster in the tree right outside our bedroom when Jenn came so loudly that she set him off. His crowing set off another rooster across the paddock, which set off a couple more and so forth, hence the twenty-one rooster salute. While I don't want to crow about my performance (sorry) it was one of the wildest, no holds barred, ball draining, multi orgasmic sex sessions that I've ever experienced.

Sunday morning, not surprisingly, we both slept in. We were wakened by Darlene coming in to clean our room. It was well after nine and she did knock but she could have waited until we responded rather than just walking in on us. Jenn and I were still both naked and I was sporting a morning erection... which considering last night's sexual excess was pretty impressive.

Darlene proceeded to clean up the place, chatting away. There wasn't much to do but she seemed to be stretching it out. Finally Jenn sat up and stretched.

"I so need a shower" she said with a massive yawn. Jenn stood and walked over to the wardrobe to retrieve her towel and robe. She didn't seem at all embarrassed to be naked in front of Darlene who was quite openly checking out her nude body. As she left, my wicked wife gave the covers a twitch which for a moment exposed my engorged cock.

"Time to get up lazy bones. Oh that's right, you're up already."

She left laughing. I quickly covered him up but not before Darlene had got a good eyeful.

After a bit more halfhearted cleaning Darlene asked, "You wanna go snorkeling later?"

"Sure, Jenn and I would love that." I wasn't sure if the invitation had included Jenn but I made sure Darlene got the married man message. "What about gear?"

"Dad's got heaps.. he'll hire you some real cheap. There's nowhere else on Sundays...everywhere's shut ...even the tele shuts down."

"Wow... so what does everybody do?"

"A lot of them go to church."

"But you don't go?"

"No way. It's over three hours long and bloody boring... listening to some old pastor shouting at you and all those screeching women in the choir. No thanks. I'd rather go snorkeling." Darlene giggled. "And I'd much rather do what you two were doing last night."

I was naturally taken aback. "I'm sorry. You heard us?"

"Half the island heard you. But don't be sorry. It sounded fucking amazing." Darlene approached the bed. She stared meaningfully at where my cock was hiding. I was modestly lying on my hip so my erection didn't tent the covers.

Darlene licked her lips. "I could take care of that for you. I'm really good."

"I'm sure you are." What a stupid thing to say. I tried ineptly to change the subject. "So when do you want to leave... for the snorkeling? I'm keen to get going."

Of course Darlene saw right through me. "It's OK. I'll wait till your fat missus isn't around."

I should have leaped to Jenn's defense. "My wife isn't fat and I wouldn't have sex with another woman even if my wife was a thousand miles away." That's what I should have said but I was so stunned I said nothing. Fortunately at that moment Jenn returned, freshly showered. She realized straight away that I was in trouble but was more amused than angry.

"You'd better go now Darlene and let him get up. He's too shy to get out of bed with you here."

Darlene grinned. "We'll go in an hour... OK? That should give you time to... get ready."

Jenn looked puzzled. I explained. "Darlene's kindly offered to take us out snorkeling. Bazza will hire us some gear."

"That's brilliant. Thanks Darlene We'll get ready and meet you in hour." Jenn propelled Darlene out the door and turned to me with a cat that just caught a canary expression.

"Looks like I came back in the nick of time."

"Hey... you were the one that left me naked with my willie waving in the wind in front of a Niuean nympho."

"And was the big bwave man fwightened of the widdle bwown girl then...?"

"You wench! Come here and I'll paddle your bottom until you beg for more."

Just over an hour later, equipped with flippers, face masks and snorkels, we were heading for a lagoon just north of the boat ramp. We paused to say hi to Glen and Keith who were loading supplies into an inflatable boat. They told us that were planning to come back in the afternoon, hire motorbikes and ride to the Togo Chasm. They invited us along and we gladly accepted. It was on our short list of things to see in Niue and I was keen to get back on a motorbike.