I Dream Of Wahine

This was written sometime in either 2005 or 2006, and was my first attempt at writing anything that could pass as erotic fiction. I used to blog on an adult website as a way of letting go of some of the things I had kept inside for many years.

I consider myself fortunate enough to have been in the company of some really excellent bloggers, and this was dedicated to one of them. I've chosen to include the original heading from that post.

This story is based on a real person that lives in a tropical paradise. We've never met face to face, and likely never will. I still love her anyway...

*The characters in this story are older than 18, and freely consenting to the acts within.*

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Lately, I have seen a lot of the bloggers that I read writing erotic stories. Some are based on fact, some on fantasy, but they are all based on our need to express our sexual needs and desires. As an early teen I used to sneak my older brother's porn novels out from under his dresser, lock myself into the bathroom, and I suppose you could say engaged in some erotic friction while I read them... I still remember bits and pieces of them, and have yet to see any of them come to life, I wonder why.

This story is entirely made up. It started off as a random thought about 1HotWahine. She has blogged lately about casual sex, its usefulness, and its pitfalls, and about her Gatekeeper that helps her decide whether or not to pursue the friendly fuck. From that random thought, and her musings, I developed this story. It has taken me a few days of scribbling and pondering to reach the point of where I think it is OK. I'm not a professional writer that is apparent.

What is apparent is that I am somewhat prudish in how I convey the actions. Unlike those novels of my youth, I don't want to be outright crude, and say stuff like, "My throbbing cock plunged into her hot, slippery cunt." The women I like deserve better imagery than that. I also tried to avoid sounding too Victorian by using phrases like "And now gentle reader, we must draw the curtains closed."

Wahine, this is for you, I hope you like it...

*

They had seen others like me before...

We were called seekers by the locals, or sometimes, fools. Our stories were mostly the same, we were looking for a cure, had heard the stories, and believed them. None could dissuade us, we simply believed.

At first, the locals hadn't shown much interest in the seekers, they were just more tourists to them. They came, spent their money, and went away. Mostly they were alone, but sometimes several would come at once from different parts of the world, that's when they began to take notice of them. Now their feelings were mixed...

Some resented them coming to their island, not that they ever caused trouble, but as one left another showed up, and another. Others felt if these seekers were foolish enough to come, why shouldn't they take their money?

None of them so much as bothered the locals, except to ask the usual questions.

Some of them were answered quite matter-of-factly; some were given such embellished nonsense that even the teller was amazed at the bare-faced nature of the lie.

The answers were never questioned, but received with a quiet "Thank You".

When the local men were gathered in their favourite places, away from the seekers, they always spoke of her and what new information anyone might have to share. Some spoke of her with reverence normally reserved for the Gods, others with the fear of invoking her wrath. Some of them bragged of having seen her, and one even claimed of having been with her, but he was dismissed off-hand as a fool and a liar. "The Gatekeeper would never allow you to enter", they said. "You are not worthy"!

One constant remained. No matter who you spoke to, or what questions you asked, they all referred to her as "The Wahine".

The stories about where she came from, and where you could meet her varied wildly. Some say she would come up from the ocean, and meet you on the beach. Others said she stepped out from the jungle, or the sugar cane fields. Some claimed that she comes out of the mist, gently shrouded by it, revealing hints of hidden delights, and forbidden desires.

If you asked the children, they laugh and say "The Wahine just lives down the street". The women say she can be found shopping at the market like everyone else, and mutter under their breaths something about silly men with their little heads doing all the thinking.

Maybe they're right...

I've been here for weeks now, my money is almost gone, and my credit card is limp from over-use. If only I could say the same about my penis.

It hadn't always been like this, except for those early teen years when I first began to realize that girls were different. I didn't take notice of exactly when it happened; I was too busy trying to make a living. I don't suppose any of us notice it until it's too late, by then you are being consumed.

Your every minute is filled by it, you try but cannot escape. It becomes apparent to those around you, and the cruelest amongst us laugh, and point their fingers, and say out loud so all can hear, "You've got the Hawaiian Disease, don't you"?

The dreaded, "Laakka Nookie."

That's what brings us here, seeking The Wahine. She has the cure. But...before she will minister to your needs, you must pass The Gatekeeper.

That is why so many failed to find The Wahine. The Gatekeeper will not allow her to be seen by the unworthy, and there are many of those.

No one knows for sure what will allow you to pass. It is not great wealth, nor power, nor appearance...these have all been tried. I have none of these, perhaps it is another quality that is the key, I can only hope. I have to leave tomorrow.

I sit on the beach...alone.

There are many sights, smells, and sounds that surround me. The sea throws itself restlessly on the shore; the sun is sinking into its cool embrace. The birds and insects call and clatter, some are preparing to sleep, others are beginning to wake. The air is heavy with the smell of mock orange and gardenia.

In the twilight, there is sudden silence, the sea grows calm, and the space around me is filled with an electric charge, another scent fills the air.

She has come... The Wahine. I cannot look up.

The silence is broken by more than my own pounding heart, The Wahine speaks.

Her voice...It is love and joy, sorrow and fear, all the emotions in one. "You have been chosen as worthy by The Gatekeeper, come, and enter my joy".

Her hand touches my chin, and lifts my gaze above the sand. The Wahine is surrounded by a sea-foam mist that moves in gentle waves as her breath rises and falls. It hides as much as it reveals. Her hand lifts me up, for I am too weak with desire, and as our lips meet, the mist falls away.

I feel myself slipping to another place, where I cannot say, but it is surely paradise

The Wahine touches me once more, and forces me to kneel in front of her. Her scent fills me, envelopes me, send shivers up and down my spine.

The Wahine speaks to me again, "Before you can enter, you must prepare the path".

I am hungry...

The Wahine encourages me with her hands and gentle words. Her sighs are soft breezes, and sharp gusts, her body sways and trembles.

The Wahine shudders and cries out, "The path has been prepared; you must enter my joy, NOW"! I am pushed back onto the cool sand, and at once her joy is upon me.

I am embraced by her heat, gripped in her passion, we are one. We rise and fall to meet each other to the rhythm of the world that surrounds us.

The Wahine does not speak, but her face tells me more than words could. Her breaths are becoming shallow and quick; she moves ever faster to show me that she is approaching our long awaited destination.

We arrive together...

After, The Wahine remains pressed to me, her skin flush and warm against my chest, and the cool sand against my back. She gently strokes my forehead, and whispers in my ear. "You have been cured, now rest before you leave."

The rising sun wakes me; I am on the beach...alone.

I must leave, and as I take one last look at this paradise, listen to its sounds, breathe in its smells, I notice a small piece of sea-foam caught on a thorn at the edge of the jungle.

I will never forget The Wahine.