Polynesian Perfection

Hey guys, I have to share with you my all to brief experience with a gorgeous Polynesian man. I was on vacation on the island of Oahu. Brigham Young University sponsors a very worthwhile cultural center that depicts and maintains the various cultures of the Polynesian islands. The island of Fiji captivated me most. Or rather, a young man in the Fijian village captivated me -- completely.

Each island nation has a village demonstrating crafts, foods, clothing, and its specific kind of music and dance. The racing drum beats of Fiji pumped up my blood pressure to match the beat of the music as grass-skirted male dancers waived the knees in and out in that "jungle-style" of dance.

One particular cutie among the group of handsome men wore white leggings. Strips of tree bark worked over and over, beat to the softness of limp grass, and bleach bright white were strapped just below his knees. His lean, muscular body, a white blur of gyrations, as his sharp, angular face showed off beautiful white teeth behind an enormous smile. Thick, thick, short, dark hair on his head and legs, a smooth muscled torso awash in sweat as he swept his eyes across his admiring audience.

My camera whirred madly as I snapped a constant stream of photographs, forever freezing the beauty before me. He looked directly into my lens. And smiled in such a way that his eyes shot through my lens, taking hold of me, sucking me back through the air into his being. Another Fijian art?

In spite of the cool breeze, I dripped with sweat. But I behaved myself. After all, I was old enough to be his, um... "oldest" brother, shall we say? I went on my way, oblivious of everything but the fantasies racing through my mind.

Later that day that same man was teaching people how to throw spears at coconuts stabbed atop poles just several yards away. I had to get a lesson, just to get up close to him! He handed people spears, explaining the grip and throwing techniques. I stood in line, chiding myself for feeling so nervous, listening carefully to his teachings.

Did he smile wider at me than the others? He held my hands as he placed my fingers in position on the spear. His face, nearly cheek to cheek with mine as he whispered instructions. His hand on the small of my back giving me a third degree burn. Sweat practically spraying out of every pore of my body. He smelled SO good! Why wasn't HE drenched with sweat?

The crowd exploded into celebration. Somehow, my spear struck the coconut, pausing in mid-air for just a second before dropping straight down to the ground. My body was being engulfed by this handsome fantasy. It felt as if his fingertips pressing on me, between my shoulder blades were wrapping around my spine.

He stepped back, saying; "For that, I'll give you a special leigh."

"Ha, I wish!" Was all I could think of.

He and the people around me burst into laughter.

OH MY GOD! I couldn't possibly have said that out loud, could I?

But he removed the leigh from around his delectable neck and slipped it over my head, kissing me on each cheek. Did he linger a fraction too long? Another hug, tight!

My knees were shaking. My friends were ruthless, seeing the panic on my face.

At the end of the day, all the Polynesian village dancers put on a huge floorshow for the visitors. Fire swallowing and walking. Sensual Hula girls, and lots and lots of vibrating drums, pounding out rhythms that, somehow, the dancers were able to keep up with. The show, itself is worth a trip to the island.

And my handsome dancer made some announcements during intermission. His voice was soft and clear, music like no other I'd ever heard before. During the second half of the show, he came back out with his bright white leggings, doing that bent-knee, leg-waiving, dance-thing again. I was wrecked. I wasn't sure what my friends found more fun to watch, the show, or me.

As the show ended my group of so called friends kept pushing at me, telling me to go AT LEAST congratulate my dancer for a job well done. Oh God, I don't have that kind of nerve. More pushing, to the point of being bodily ushered over to the entrance to the side of the sunken stage -- a cave door.

I could see him. The dancers were hugging and congratulating each other. He hugged the men, but held hands with the women as he smiled at them. My soon to be EX-best friend gave one giant shove and I was launched backstage. He looked at me. He smiled. This was intolerably sweet agony!

He hugged me, thanking me for coming and asking if I had enjoyed my day. I must have said something since he responded with a laugh and slipped his hand over my shoulder to my back. He introduced me to several sweat-dripping men, each one giving me a hug. Is this a culture thing? He really wasn't seeing me as anything special? Hugging was just a form of greeting?

The dancer took my hand (!) and pulled me off to the nearly pitch blackened side, leading me up a narrow stairs. I was pretty sure he was just going to give me a quick tour or show me the view from the faux volcano that provided the backdrop for the floorshow.

He did show me the view from where high up where drummers had pounded out their impossible rhythms. There were still dozens of people left in the auditorium. I could see my group, finishing their drinks and picking at the fruit bowls left on our table.

This energetic man looked at me, his face, one big smile, asking me; "Isn't this great?"

He was still holding my hand.

I told him I had learned a great deal about his people that day. He turned toward me asking if I liked what I had learned. I assured him that he had opened a new world to me, one I didn't want to leave. Somehow, his smile stretched even wider, his teeth, I'm sure, shining bright for the audience.

"Oh, there's so much more to see. There's no way just one day could be enough."

"There's no doubt that's true. I could be an islander. Especially if you were there."

What? Did I say that?

"You are so open. Your thoughts are visible even before you say anything."

"Oh God."

"No, that's good. You have a strong, comfortable energy. I felt it when I saw you taking pictures this morning."

"You saw me? And remembered me, out of all the thousands of people here?

"After while the crowd is just a block image. Very few people stand out. You're one of them."

Talk about a vacation fantasy!

I started to get nervous. I had to get away from him or I would be sorry.

"Well, thanks. You're still dripping. You really worked up a sweat down there. I better let you go."

He kissed me.

I felt his sweat soak into my muscle T-shirt as if I'd just been splashed with hydrochloric acid. His body burned like lava. He pulled my shirt off trying to maintain our kiss. I don't remember details; I just know I was scared to death. I'm not exactly an expert at sex but I did everything I could think of to do, there on the floor of that platform, overlooking the audience. Thank God for the faux rock wall hiding our naked bodies from, well...everyone!

We were both dripping with sweat. Slipping our bodies across each other, tasting our sweat, me, trying to ignore my terror. He pulled his dance belt off, unleashing his beautiful erection, allowing his balls to drop free -- into my hand, then my mouth. I loved the way his legs, bubble butt and abdomen were furry as any muscle bear out there. But from his (ticklish) belly button up, his dark skin was completely hairless. My tongue searched every inch of his body, making sure I knew every flavor of every part of him.

I'm not a bottom; I'm too nervous and uptight, scared I'll embarrass myself. But my body was his for the taking. My terror turned to passion. Finally, my damn brain shut off and my body turned on. We tangled around each other and somehow I ended up gasping for breath as he slid his erection into my sweaty ass. His hands were everywhere. My own erection had never felt so good, gripped tight and being washed inside his mouth.

He nibbled the inside on my thigh as he squeezed his head between my legs as the draped over his shoulders. Folding me in half, his hand squashed between us as it worked magic on my sweat and precum soaked erection. Our mouths wide open, trying to inhale each other. Little whimpering noises alerting me to what I could feel happening. Moving faster, then losing his rhythm, his erection swelled, sweeping aside all my internal organs as it turned to stone, exploding deep inside of my body and I think, my mind as well.

Liquid gushed up, filling the air spaces between our sweaty chests. His hand, on my erection, caused my body to do the most intense stomach crunches of my life. My brain had exploded. I couldn't remember any of the spoken languages I worked so hard to perfect. Speech would have ruined the moment. Silently he let my body unfold, gently placing my legs on the floor as his still rock solid erection pulled out of me.

I was blissfully exhausted. But I knew sooner or later I would have to compose myself and rejoin my friends -- who would know full well that SOMETHING had happened. Just as I was slowly flexing to sit up, his wet, sticky body pressed itself flat against my own. Gently lowering himself down onto me, even balancing his legs on mine, his body covered me like a second skin.

His erection pressed into me stomach, his head hanging beside mine; he spoke softly. "Believe it or not, the only other man I've ever had sex with was my boyfriend."

Shit. I'm the other woman?

"Oops. I don't think he's going to like this."

"Don't worry he hasn't been around for almost two years."

Salvation!

My "normal" self returned (unfortunately) so I collected myself as best I could trying for a quick escape. But before we went down the stairs, without even thinking, I can't imagining what I was expecting, but I said; "I don't suppose there's any chance I could maybe stay on the island and stalk you a little bit?"

His mind-boggling smile shot across his face as he chuckled.

"A couple years ago, after my boyfriend died surfing, I decided to go into the church. I'm going to have a lot of penance to do but believe me, it's been worth any penance I'll have to do."

"No chance of altering the future?"

"I'll tell you what. You give me your name and stuff and if I ever decide the church isn't where I fit anymore, you will be the first one I tell. In two years of being here, seeing thousands of hot guys come through, not a single one of them got to me. I doubt very much if it'll ever happen again. There's something about your aura. My boyfriend was the same way. I'm not into all that stuff but only twice in my life have I ever felt an aura like, my boyfriend and now you."

So there it is. My fantasy dancer. On his way to becoming a Mormon minister. Oh, cruel life, why hast thou me so punished?

Looking at the photographs I took of him, it's weird. For several of them, he's looking directly at me, that big, gorgeous smile just glowing bright, even in the sunshine.

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written by giomjrmastro