Found – A Treasure from the...

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Out of the clear blue, when he wasn't looking...
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Sailor1
Sailor1
51 Followers

Found – A Treasure from the Outer Islands

"Aloha, Lieutenant, I'm here to give you a massage..."

She smiled, partly because she was supposed to smile as part of the professional service... and partly, well, perhaps mostly, because she had been correct. The beautiful man she had served in the dining room, the man dining alone at one of her tables, the man in the white naval officer's uniform, was the same man in Room 108 who had made an appointment for a message... a 'deluxe massage.' On that basis alone she was pleased at herself for finding another opportunity to be of service to him.

The man had enjoyed an excellent seafood entrée in the dinning room and now after another stint reviewing his work for the following day, welcomed the young lady for the message as arranged with the front desk hours before. What surprised him – whatreally surprised him, was that the beautiful Hawaiian girl waiting tables in the dining room, who had caught his eye earlier... and he had been so very pleased to have maneuvered himself into one of her tables... was the same girl standing before him this very moment. And now she was even more enchanting that she had been earlier. She still wore her flowered Hawaiian headdress, but had shed her form fitting blue dress and flower lei for a white Bikini bottoms and a fresh, even fuller lei covering her bare breasts. Earlier observations were thus confirmed, and his very positive appraisal of her trim figure, full breasts, and fluid movements was just as accurate as that of her bright smile, flashing eyes, and sparkling personality.

"And good evening to you, Maili (Mai'-lee),how nice to see you again... Won't you please come in?"

The young girl stepped into his room, slipped out of her sandals, and felt her confidence collapse in a heap.

"You do massages as well? A very talented girl! I think that's wonderful." He was trying to be light and cheerful, but once inside his hotel room and the door closed, it was perfectly obvious to him that she was anxious and insecure. She stood with her arms across her breasts under the flowers, head bowed slightly and eyes downcast, and, he noticed immediately, her delightful smile had fled. What, he wondered to himself, made her suddenly so afraid? In the dining room she had been very self confident and efficient, to say nothing about personable and relaxed with him.

"What's wrong, Maili? Is something not right?" he asked her softly.

She seemed at first not to hear him and made no move. He saw her posture was erect, and she was a taller girl than many, the top of her head with her beautiful flowers reaching to just above his shoulder, but her head was bowed. In her flowered finery, colorful and fragrant, and very little else, she was, he could hardly ignore the observation, a stunningly beautiful young lady, and even more attractive to him than she had been in the dining room.

"I've never done this before...."

He thought her voice full of anxiety, almost child-like and fearful.

"A massage, you mean...?"

"A 'deluxe' massage."

"What is the difference between a regular massage and a 'deluxe' massage?

She seemed unable to respond to his simple question, and gently, with a finger under her chin, he lifted her pretty face to him. Her eyes spoke volumes of her vulnerability and innocence. It was not that he was more experienced, for he was not, and did not engage girls for intimate services, as this was not his way. He was sufficiently aware, however, that such services were readily available, and sensed now that 'deluxe' included not only more than a normal massage, but also some idea as to what the additional services might be. Now her eyes were sheltered again by her full, dark lashes.

"What makes a 'deluxe' massage, Maili? What makes you so anxious?" His words were soft and subdued, seeking now both confirmation of his guesses, as well as quieting her fears, for it meant a great deal to him for her not to be afraid of him or what might happen between them.

She looked up at him with pleading eyes, realizing at his question that he did not know. What words could she use to tell him? She thought sure he would have known, since he was paying. "It means," her voice was near to breaking as she struggled, "it means you get..." and this is what made her anxious, "to keep me all night if you want me."

No, he had not known that significant detail. How careless, he criticized himself, for not asking at the desk earlier and clarifying that.

She looked up at him with big tears in her pretty eyes, her tears catching the soft candlelight all about them flickering lightly in the gentle breezes off the lanai. The delicate fragrance of her many flowers was already filling his room and his head, even as she filled his thoughts and imagination with her shy, youthful beauty. He thought her an extraordinarily beautiful girl; very pretty features, expressive eyes, and a sweet smile that was very beguiling... though she was not smiling now. Without her sandals, and except for the bit of cotton at her hips, she was completely nude. Her flowers and the glossy green leaves, both those about her head and those around her neck, were full blossoms of several kinds, and her two or three leis tumbled down over her breasts, sheltering them from his eyes even as they left tantalizing glimpses and delightful curves evident on the fringes. He had not ever seen a girl so fetching, in both her personality and mannerisms, as well as the form and functioning of her body.

The issue at hand now, was, of course, that, he concluded, he had unknowingly ordered up the services of one of the hotel's girls for the night... and here she was, open and dazzling, butthe real issue was that it hurt inside him somewhere that this Hawaiian beauty, who had served him dinner, turned out to be... well, 'available.' He had enough time in the Islands to know, too, that the Hawaiians did not look upon intimacy with the same stringent standards as those haoles from the mainland; even so, his experience to date was that any girl so involved held for him little attraction, since he was looking for a deeper, more lasting relationship with the right girl.

"Maili," he was grasping for a moment to rebalance things, trying to ignore his first impression, and find again their pleasant exchange from the dining room, "let's sit and talk a little, and get to know each other." That's what he had hoped to do earlier in the dining room, but there had been no chance. He took her one hand, at her shoulder and covering herself shyly, and drew her with him to the settee.

"What makes you so anxious?" He could put two and two together and get four. She was young and a novice, very possibly a virgin, and he figured he could perhaps rework the equation and come up with five. It was, in any case, worth a try, and cost nothing.

She looked at him curiously, repeating her previous words with her voice trembling, "I have never been...with a man ... all night and... at all... and, I don't know what to do." Her confession stirred his natural tenderness for a beautiful girl. She honest and open, heartbreakingly beautiful, and shewas a virgin, and suddenly the answer was coming up 'five.'

"You do know about massage, right?" He was fishing for additional clarity.

"Oh, yes, lieutenant," she responded quickly, "I am really good at massage, and will give you the very best ever, but...." She could not bring herself to tell him any more of her ignorance.

He quickly placed a tender finger to her lips to quiet her, and her eyes questioned his intent.

"Maili, my name is Gene. To you, I would like to be just Gene, a man who appreciates your beauty and welcomes your companionship... and will not ever hurt you." He wanted her with him, ever since the dining room he had wanted her, and hoped now to still her anxiety and let her know she was safe with him.

She was kneeling on the settee facing him, anxious not to disappoint him in any way, and thankful for his kind manner with her. This nice man did not laugh at her for being inexperienced, not make fun. He was just as nice as she had hoped.

"You have not..." she heard him ask softly, "been with a man before?"

Feeling her youth and inexperience almost painfully, she sat mute. The other girls, all older than she, talked rather freely of their experiences with men at the hotel and other places, and she felt like a child, unknowing and more than a little fearful, and, in response to his question dropped her eyes, and, at last, shook her head slightly. Had he not been looking at her, he would not have noticed the motion at all.

Once again, she felt his gentle finger under the her chin, lifting her face to him.

"You don't have to be afraid with me, Maili."His voice was kind and reassuring to her. "I won't hurt you in any way. How old are you, young lady?"

"Eighteen." If she just said it like that he might think she was nearly nineteen.

"Eighteen, since when?"

"Since," the defeat of her little plan sounded in her voice, "since three days ago." She couldn't stop trembling.

"Happy birthday, Maili." He smiled at her and she smiled back, a brief, wan smile.

"And the boys at school? Have they touched you?"

After a shy pause she nodded silently.

"Did they touch your breasts?"

She could not answer at first, feeling his probing into hurtful memories, and then, finally, nodded again.

"Did they put their hands up your dress, between your legs?"

Even as he held her hand gently, trying to reassure her, she felt the heat in her cheeks as she blushed. Once again, her response was a simple nod of her head.

"Did they hurt you?"

His question was kind enough, but the memory was scary. There had been three of them, classmates, boys her own age, overheated by hormones and seeking a thrill. They'd felt her up briefly, and two held her while each in turn raised her dress and touched her between her legs, poked their fingers into her as she squirmed and begged them to leave her alone. And then, finally, they'd disappeared, leaving her in the dark corner of the old shed, terrified, crying, and feeling desparately compromised.

As the memory passed she looked up at him in the room's soft candlelight, big tears in her eyes, and nodded yet again. She had entered first her initials on the checklist and now his room with a fragile confidence founded on nervous energy, a heavy dose of fear, and a intuitive sense of this man's goodness, based on nothing more than their few exciting exchanges as she waited on him at his table earlier that evening. She felt a driving need for this man's acceptance. He had been pleasant and cheerful with her, had complemented her on her beautifullei po`o (headdress) and her flashing eyes. He had made her feel special by his warm smile and gentlemanly manner. Had she misread him? From across the room she had caught glimpses of him as he dined, and noticed his strange table manners. One of the older waitresses noticed, too, and said the handsome man was very European, using the fork in his left, the knife in his right hand. Somewhere on the Continent, she had thought, Holland or Germany, perhaps. They had tourists from Europe sometimes, and she had seen it before. Neither had ever seen an American eat that way. It seemed odd, because he was obviously not a tourist, not in his white naval officer's uniform. Fascinating! She had wanted him to be...to be, well, someone special... a man who might... well, perhaps,love her.

Now she was yet more deeply involved for sure, sitting before him on the sofa, giving herself to him, to Gene. Did he want her?

She had seen his room number on the list for massage work that evening when she checked for jobs to earn a little extra. Only when she had checked room numbers listed against the guest register did she realize that the party in #108 ordering the massage was the same man who had signed his dining room bill with his room number... Lieutenant Eugene Keller, U. S. Navy.

He had requested a deluxe massage at 8 PM in his room. She knew that the other girls looked for such opportunities because of the extra money. The hotel manager had not yet allowed her to take such assignments because she was under age, and he had not yet 'trained' her, as he said. She didn't like the manager, and his leering at her so often made her anxious, if not actually terrified at the prospects of the training and his 'taking' her, to which he frequently made very pointed reference. The manager, however, had been these last five days on the big island at a conference, and she was now three days over eighteen and still not 'trained.' Nevertheless, it was not really the money, nor her fear of the manager's training that motivated her. She had looked at the listing on the clipboard in the office and, thinking of the handsome man at her table in the dining room who made her tingle all over, initialed the space on the checklist as the girl who would that night serve the guest in #108... the man who so inspired her confidence and hope... and...and touched her heart.

She had had just enough time after her shift in the dining room to get ready. She gathered from the hotel shop two freshleis matching herlei po`o, then headed for her room to get her most special massage oils and freshen up for him. More than she herself recognized she was doing this for him, the magnificent man at the dining doom table she had served that evening. She was infatuated with him... single, evidently, at least alone this evening, handsome and dashing in his uniform, pleasant and complementary, she felt the draw of his masculinity. She was young and innocent, but also alone in the world with only distant family on the island, and lonely and seeking deep inside something desparately important, for which yearning she had as yet not found words to define.

On time, dressed as stipulated for a 'deluxe massage,' and with her youthful heart almost wrenching inside her with anxiety, she had knocked softly on #108.

Now, on the settee, unsure of what to do, she waited for him to lead her. When he leaned forward, closer to her, she felt like her world was coming undone. The intensity in his blue eyes drew her like a moth to a flame, and she leaned forward slightly to meet him... and he kissed her!

She had never been kissed like that!

When once a girl has experienced such a kiss, all other kisses in her past, and Maili had but one or two from boys of a very much lesser quality, disappear into the shadows. With his kiss he captured her... her attention, her respect, her confidence, her heart, her very being. She was far too young and innocent to have known to what she had opened her heart as she initialed the block on the clipboard. Yet his attention to her in the dining room had stirred something deep inside her, and, though she neither knew nor understood what was happening to her heart, shefelt it just as distinctly as she felt the soft caress of his lips on hers,she felt the fluttering in her breast....

He had his own ideas as to the kind of girl that he wanted to be his, to whom he could give his heart along with the safety of his arm and the security of his labors. He had seen and known several beautiful girls over several years, but little Miss Perfect had not yet appeared. There were some good dozen serving girls that evening waiting tables in the large, crowded dining room open on one side to the cool sea breezes, but to him Maili's cheerful smile, her lithe, feminine movements, and exquisite beauty stood out from the others like a lone candle in the window on a dark night to a sailor's heart seeking refuge. She was... well, he could find no word that would really say it all, but she was beautiful beyond his fondest imaginings.

From his two years in the Islands, he knew enough to evaluate her heritage, generally, from her appearance. In the dining room at first, appearance was all he had to go on. Her Hawaiian heritage dominated, but there were Europeans somewhere in her background, and the mixture gave forth in her person a strikingly beautiful expression of the best of both...the very best. Every man sees a girl from a different perspective; he saw more than just her pretty face and long hair and trim figure, and the fluid gracefulness of her movements. He had learned during her frequent stops at his table – to bring him a menu and welcome him with her bright smile, to take his order, to refill his water glass, fetch another glass of Ginger Ale, inquire as to whether the Mahi Mahi pleased him, to see that his every need was met – that he found in her an intelligent, thoughtful, and alert young lady, with skill and attention to detail and a pleasant manner. She was pleasant even to the man and his wife a few tables away, tourists who became rather upset over some detail, and never lost her composure in soothing his ruffled feathers. In that incident he had been able to observe her 'under fire,' so to speak, and thought her remarkably steady and capable in the face of stress. These kinds of things counted a great deal for him. He wanted more than pretty face and legs spread for his pleasure; he wanted a companion. He sought a girl beautiful and playful and willing, but also, and for him just as important, a girl of substance and intellect and integrity, a girl who would share his passion and love, and stand by his side. Some of the fellows claimed that all the girls looked the same in the dark. Yes, he considered that a shallow and cheap approach, even as, he commiserated ruefully, that it may be technically true. For the lieutenant, however, the entire matter devolved around the scope and detail of the design specification. For the girl he sought, his was more lengthy, and involved, and demanding than many, indeed, most; if not all. It didn't bother him much that they said he was too picky; she was out there somewhere, his ideal, and one day he would find her.

The opportunity to observe had been somewhat limited in the dining room setting, yet this girl with the attractive flowered headdress – she said it was alei po`o, a new Hawaiian word for him – like unto a princess, and matching leis about her neck, both with bright flowers and glossy green leaves, and her sweet smile and dancing eyes... Maili was her name, she had told him...this Hawaiian girl, stopping to chat with him whenever her table tending allowed, had captured his attention more than had any other for many a day. Yes, many a day... he could not recall, actually, the last time a girl so touched his heart.

Now, she knelt before him on the sofa, but with big tears in her eyes, those big brown eyes that had flashed so cheerfully for him at dinner... now she knelt before him, vulnerable, innocent, trusting, and...and now, at his light kiss, those eyes were twinkling brightly for him through her tears... and she was smiling again.

There had been this evening, he felt, one earthshaking surprise after another, but since he had opened to her soft knock, not a moment to think clearly, as if, in her so very delectable presence, clear thinking of any kind were possible at all. He had looked forward to the massage after several demanding days, and had now ferreted out an understanding of whatdeluxe entailed. Fine. His oversight presented him now with the prospect of keeping her with him all night, and that was a surprise, a very pleasant surprise. He would keep her with him; yes, her would. That much, at least, he had decided.

"Hmmm, Maili, you are a delightful girl, and the most beautiful young lady in the world when you're kissed, do you know that?"

Sailor1
Sailor1
51 Followers