Letters from Blackwell Island Pt. 03

The night before his coming of age ceremony I had a chance to sit down and talk with him - I wanted to put him at ease, to assure him that I didn't expect him to try and impress me with his prowess and that I wasn't expecting it to be the most mind-blowing sex I'd ever had. I told him that it didn't matter if I didn't come, nor did it matter if he came in only a few moments, for I knew that some young men are prone to premature ejaculation during their first time having sex. My words seemed to have done the trick - he was much more relaxed about it when I caught up with him at the party in his parents garden that morning before ascending to the summit of Mauna o ka ho'omaka. In fact, far from being nervous about losing his virginity in front of an invited audience, he was eagerly relishing the prospect of proving himself as a fully-grown Blackwell Island man.

Patrick had decided not to attend, citing that he did not wish to see his wife having sex with another man. I guess he viewed it as a case of "out of sight, out of mind", and that also by not being there he'd be less likely to do something rash, like get angry and pull me off of the lad in front of everyone. I had to of course respect his choice, and I even offered to back out of the whole thing, but he said that it would be unfair on Morton and his parents to let them down at such a late stage. So I went alone to Angela and Toby's place. There were a few familiar faces there, chief among them was Jenni Bakeland, the police officer with whom I'd spent a day on the beat.

The party drew to a close, and Angela announced that it was time for us all to ascend to the summit of the volcano, where Mrs. Opuni awaited everyone for the formal coming of age ceremony. As the woman selected to take Morton's virginity during the ceremony I was right at the head of the procession, just behind Morton himself, his older sister and their parents. Morton was the only person there who wasn't naked, and it wouldn't be long before he would be as naked as everyone else.

The ascent up the mountain took a couple of hours, with several short stops for people to catch their breath along the way. As Angela and Toby had no family on the island, the throng of well-wishers was quite a bit smaller than when I'd last witnessed a coming of age ceremony, but given the enthusiasm of those that had come along, Angela and Toby were clearly popular among the island's community. I noticed quite a few familiar faces, and those of others I'd passed by in the streets of Malmesbury and elsewhere out and about around the island. Among those I recognised were Mrs. Laukea and her husband, who was wearing another of his wife's signature jewel encrusted Kani's. It took me a few moments to work out why the island's maker of traditional ceremonial cock rings was there, but then I remembered that she'd taken Morton on as her apprentice stone polisher. He was due to start working in her emporium and workshop the very next day.

After reaching the summit of the mountain, with the vast bowl of the extinct volcano's crater below us, the party was greeted by Mrs. Opuni, flanked on either side by two very handsome (and of course totally naked) young men. The ceremony proceeded in exactly the same way as it had when I'd witnessed Lisa and Aiden's coming of age, albeit a lot quicker as there was only one initiate on this occasion. Morton was stripped naked and his clothes burned as per the Pã'ele tradition, thus breaking the link between childhood and adulthood, and oh my goodness, Morton's masculine beauty almost took my breath away!

I'd thought Aiden was a handsome boy the first time I saw him naked, but Morton took things to a whole 'nother level! I'd seen lots of statues of nude Greek athletes and had always appreciated their physical perfection, and as far as that aspect was concerned Morton was every bit their equal. But he differed from those marble Adonises in one crucial aspect.

Unlike today's porn obsessed culture, where the overly large male appendage is venerated (and is the cause of much body related anxiety for men, and a source of money for unscrupulous peddlars of ineffective and sometimes downright dangerous penis enlargement pills) the Classical Greek athlete was almost always depicted with a relatively small penis. The ancient Greeks regarded a larger than normal penis as something rather vulgar, and as such it was those men who were less well endowed who were venerated. Well, the Greeks of those ancient times would have frowned if they ever saw Morton, for he was impressively hung!

Now, I wouldn't go so far as to say his penis was massive - if anything it was only a little larger than average - but it was visibly larger than Aiden's and Patrick's. Larger in fact than most of the other men I'd seen on the island, and considerably larger than his father's, but the overall package of the rest of his body made it look all the more impressive and I couldn't wait to see and to feel it reaching its full potential. I also noticed that Morton differed from his father in another way - whereas Toby had been circumcised as part of his Jewish faith, Morton's penis was fully intact. In fact, his foreskin had a quality to it that the ancient Greeks most definitely would have approved of! I was rather distracted by the sheer beauty of the lad, until I heard Mrs. Opuni's voice.

"Morton has now left behind his childhood and now stands before us all as naked as nature intended," she announced. "And it is now time for the second stage of the ritual. Angela, who have you chosen to take your son's virginity?"

Angela stepped forward.

"I choose Allyssa Wilkins, Madame Kahunapule," she responded.

It took me a moment to remember that here on Blackwell Island, as a part of the Pã'ele tribe's matriarchal culture, I was formally known by my maiden name - which meant that Patrick was known as Mr. Wilkins, rather than Mr. Brennan. It was now time for me to play my part in Morton's coming of age ceremony. I swallowed, took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"I am Allyssa Wilkins, Madame Kahunapule," I said clearly for all to hear.

"Do you accept this sacred duty to take Morton's virginity?" she asked me formally.

"I do, Madame Kahunapule," I replied.

"Then you may proceed," Mrs. Opuni answered, and gestured towards the mattress of woven Pandanus leaves just as she had when I'd witnessed Lisa and Aidan's deflowering earlier in the year.

I took Morton by the hand and led him towards the improvised mattress - his palms were sweating, so he was clearly nervous.

"It's okay to be nervous, Morton," I whispered in his ear. "If it helps, I'm quite nervous too!"

"Th-thanks, Mrs. Wilkins," he whispered in response.

I helped him to lie down on the mattress.

"Call me Allie," I replied to him. "Now, just keep your legs together and let me do the rest."

"O-okay, Mrs... er, I mean, Allie," he stuttered.

"Good boy," I replied.

I squatted over his thighs and reached down to caress his impressively proportioned manhood. He gasped a little as I touched his intimate parts - I realised I was the first woman to ever touch him in such an intimate manner. I was definitely the first woman to touch him with the clear intent of arousing him. And it didn't take long for him to respond to my touch, either through nerves or genuine arousal, or quite probably both, and I felt his penis start to warm and firm up in my hand. It only took a couple of minutes for him to reach full tumescence, and I could finally appraise his fully erect size - I estimated that he was at least seven and a half inches at "full mast", so not porn star massive, but a good inch longer than Patrick's, and his apparent girth was larger too. I was in a state of mixed emotions - anticipation of feeling it inside me, and guilt at comparing it with my husband's - would sex between us ever feel the same after having Morton inside me? I knew however that I had to not dwell on that thought and return to the sacred task of making young Morton into a man.

I took his now fully engorged manhood and shuffled myself forward a little until both our pubic regions were in alignment. I drew his foreskin back, revealing the soft pinkness of his glans and the little mouth-like slit of his meatus, and then guided it towards my entrance. I looked down at Morton's anxious face as the moment when he would surrender his virginity to me approached rapidly. I smiled at him to assure him that everything was okay, and reached out to stroke his hair - and then I gently lowered myself onto him, causing him to gasp as he felt himself being ensheathed for the very first time, and me to gasp also as his erection stretched my vagina to an extent that Patrick's could never manage.

The assembled onlookers cheered as applauded as I came to rest, impaled upon the young lad's erection - I had successfully taken his virginity. But of course, it wasn't over yet.

The initial moment of penetration over, I paused for a few moments to allow him to get used to the unfamiliar sensation of having his penis inside a woman's body for the first time. The expression he gave me as I looked down at his handsome face was one of sheer wonderment.

"Feel good?" I whispered down at him.

"Amazing!" he answered.

"You ready to move on?"

"Yeah."

"Good - don't worry about me, just let yourself come whenever you're ready, okay?"

"Okay."

And with that, I started to gyrate my hips around, causing his impressive member to rub around inside me. What an incredible feeling it was! My mind was telling me not to enjoy it too much, for I knew I should appreciate Patrick's penis as he was my husband, but my body could not deny the sheer pleasure that Morton's additional size was affording me. It was as though he filled me entirely, and pretty soon I went from gently gyrating my hips like a belly dancer, to bouncing atop him as though he were my steed and I were a jockey in the Grand National.

I don't think I'd ever felt such a heady height of arousal before - it was like pure electricity was pulsing through my veins. I didn't care that I was being watched by at least twenty other pairs of eyes, I was wantonly enjoying the sensation too much to care. But as much as I savoured the sheer physical pleasure of sex with such a handsome and inexperienced young man underneath me, I couldn't help but feel the presence of the elephant in the room - or at the summit of the mountain in this instance - that of the persistent guilt at comparing Morton to Patrick.

Still, at least I didn't have too long to dwell upon it.

In my inner revelry I'd forgotten that young men like Morton were sometimes like a hair trigger, just waiting to go off. And go off he did, in spectacular style! We could only have been going at it for just over a minute before I felt him begin to throb inside me, and the look upon his face confirmed that he was about to come at any second. Lo and behold, just a few moments later he started to pant and moan beneath me, and as if guided by his inner primal mating instinct he reached out to me and planted his hands on my hips, pulling me down onto him. And then I felt the familiar inner heat of semen being ejaculated into me.

"Uhh! Hahh! Hahh! Urgghh! Ohhh!" he grimaced and gasped beneath me as he came.

I wasn't anywhere near to coming myself, but I didn't mind - this was his moment after all. I heard the onlookers break out in cheers and applause as they witnessed his orgasm and I found myself willing him on to enjoy every precious second of it. As his orgasm came to an end he looked up at me with an awed expression on his face, marred by a hint of disappointment that his moment of euphoria couldn't last much more than a few fleeting seconds.

"Was I... was I good? I know I didn't last very long," he looked up and asked me. "Was I big enough for you?"

Already his male ego clearly needed assuring.

"You were very good, and your size is perfect, Morton," I answered him, and despite the brevity of our union I meant it sincerely.

He was very good despite his inexperience, and I knew he'd make some lucky young woman very happy indeed one day. I eased myself up and off him, and instantly felt empty as his member slipped out of me and flopped wetly onto his abdomen.

"Morton is a virgin no longer," Mrs. Opuni announced.

My part in his coming of age ceremony was over almost as quickly as it had begun, and attention turned to the final, and most painful, stage of Morton's big day. I looked on as he was leant across the priestess's Mãka'u Papa to have his mother's Ohana Mãka'u tattooed onto his left buttock. His pain throughout the procedure was evident for all to see, but he stoically withstood it all until Mrs. Opuni had completed her task, and the family marking was permanently inked into his gluteal flesh.

* * * * * *

It was after midnight before I made it home to our little apartment above Marea and Jackson's garage - I found Patrick waiting for me in the lounge, evidently anxious for my return.

"So, how was it?" he asked me.

Well, now I was faced with a dilemma. Should I be honest about everything, or should I spare his male ego any undue disappointment? I decided that diplomacy would be the best approach.

"It was good," I replied.

"Was he... better than me?" Patrick asked me tentatively.

Evidently another male ego needed massaging a little.

"No," I replied, which was a little bit of a white lie.

"Is he... y'know, bigger than I am?"

Well, seeing as Patrick would in all probability see Morton's penis for himself someday I couldn't lie about that.

"A bit bigger, yes," I answered. "But that doesn't make it better than yours."

At least the second part of my answer was totally honest. Upon reflection on my way home from the mountain after taking Morton's virginity, I concluded that although his larger penis had felt good inside me, it didn't fit me as well and as satisfyingly as Patrick's did, and though I'd felt attracted to the lad, there wasn't that deep and meaningful emotional connection I had with Patrick.

"So his cock is bigger than mine, huh?"

Tsk! Men! Always worrying about who has the biggest penis!

"Patrick, you know damned well I couldn't care less about how big a guy's penis is," I chided him, although my words weren't one hundred percent honest.

Truth be told, the size of a man's penis was important to me, but it wasn't the be-all and end-all of everything, it was just another factor to take into account, like his face or his personality. I felt I had to prove it to him in a way he'd definitely understand.

"Take me to bed," I instructed him. "Morton could only last about a minute, right now what I need is a real man, an experienced man, to make love to me all night."

He looked at me and smiled, and that's exactly what he went and did.

Nude Nuptials

If there's anything we women are guilty of when it comes to weddings, it's agonising for hours, sometimes days on end over what to wear. What could be worse for a lady at a wedding than to see that another woman has chosen the exact same outfit? It can be such a horrific outcome that it doesn't bear thinking of lest it give you heart palpitations! Of course, on Blackwell Island that particular dilemma is never an issue: no clothes, no problem! Nevertheless, a wedding is still a wedding, and one still has to make sure one looks one's best, even if you and everyone else there is naked.

What was slightly odd about this wedding though, was that the traditional fashion conundrum that normally only affects women actually affected the men instead - they were all expected to wear their best Kani for the day, and if one man should happen upon another man wearing the exact same Kani around his genitals, well, one can imagine how embarrassing that would be!

It wasn't a problem for Patrick however, since he only had one Kani anyway, and since it had been handmade to a custom design by Mrs. Laukea, his was totally unique and so he would be spared from the dreaded faux-pas.

Mind you, men's sartorial expectations are different to women's anyway, and they rarely lose any sleep about something as trivial as being seen in the exact same outfit as another man, even if it's something as minuscule as a Kani.

"Gah! Not so feckin' tight, wo'an!" Patrick chided me as I tried to tie his Kani on - easier said than done when his balls were in the way!

"Sorry!" I apologised. "But if you won't keep still why I tie this thing on..."

"Why can't I tie the bloody thing on myself?" he asked me as I looked up at him. "At least then I won't be at risk of castrating myself!"

"Because it's tradition here," I reminded him. "Women put them on the men, remember? And besides, it's tricky enough as it is!"

Having adjusted the traditional cock ring I stood and took a look at it - my earlier over-tightening of it notwithstanding, I was definitely getting pretty good at tying it on.

"You look really smart and so, so sexy in that thing," I said to him, with an edge of wantonness in my voice. "Anyway, does my hair look alright?" I added, keen to get back to the job at hand of getting ready for Aiden and Merryanne's wedding.

Since I, like all the other wedding guests was totally naked, my hair was the only way I could express my individuality (although some would argue that just by being unclothed I would be expressing my individuality enough since no two bodies are exactly the same). Earlier that morning the three of us women at the Mahi'ai homestead styled each other's hair, with me doing Lisa's, Marea doing mine, and Lisa doing her mother's - but not all at the same time of course, that would've been a bit impractical! Not to mention a bit weird too!

"Your hair looks like the rest of you," Patrick said as he pulled me towards him for a hug. "Utterly perfect in every possible way."

Damn him! He always knows exactly what to say!

Then, as if to finish me off in a coup de grace, he started speaking in Gaelic.

"Níl bean ar domhan chomh hálainn céanna leat."

There is not a woman in the world even half as beautiful as you.

"Oh, Patrick," I sighed, literally melting in his arms.

Things might have got a little heated after that, were it not for the interruption of a knock on our door.

"Are you two decent?" Jackson called to us.

I guess you could say it was a Blackwell Islander's "in-joke" - of course we weren't decent, we were naked. But paradoxically, on Blackwell Island being naked meant that we were decent!

"Come in, Jackson," I responded to him as I released myself from my husband's embrace.

The father of the groom entered our little apartment. Like all the men who would be attending the wedding he was wearing his best Kani - it was one I hadn't seen him in before and it glittered with several precious stones set in a cluster at the top.

"Oh wow," I said to our genial landlord. "I like your Kani, Jackson! Are those diamonds?"

"It's a ceremonial wedding Kani - it belonged to my great, great grandfather," he replied as he motioned his hips forward to show it off. "Handed down from father to son for four generations. Soon to be five, once I hand it on to Aiden."

He went on to explain another Pã'ele tradition where the father of the groom would hand over a ceremonial Kani to his eldest son (second and third sons and so on, would have a new one made specially for them to hand on to their eldest sons).

"Anyway, I just came to ask if the two of you are ready," Jackson went on. "The ke ka'ina mare is ready to get started."