It was a typical day in Kauai, Hawaii: the island a lush, green paradise with mountains and beaches to die for. At times it would rain a little, and depending on the time of year perhaps a lot, but usually it was at night or early in the morning, and every day along the coast tended to be sunny and warm, bordering on hot. Frequently the mountains inland were shrouded in clouds, but the beaches were usually bathed in bright sunshine for most of the day.
Kauai was perhaps the most scenic of the main Hawaiian Islands, and outside of Molokai it was certainly the most laid back. Traffic here was usually just a rumour, and the longest drive between the furthest two towns was maybe an hour and a half. The locals were generally warm and welcoming towards visitors. You went to Kauai to get away from it all, but there was still plenty to keep a man busy if he were so inclined.
That had been the plan for Michael White. He had been traveling to these islands for the past five years, ever since selling his company: a modest yet lucrative photography business he had built from the ground up, starting just after graduating university. He had worked his ass off for nineteen years. The early times were tough, money often scarce, but eventually things took off, and he was pulling in high six figure net profits every year by the time he let it go. Michael seemed to have a knack for business, but ironically he detested that very aspect.
Photography was in his blood, but as he became more and more successful, the less and less he was able to do what he loved most. And the stress of running a company was too much. He was never cut out for that, regardless of how good he was at it. When the chance came for him to sell he went for it. Now he was seeing the world and doing the odd free lance assignment, completely on his own schedule, and he kept it small scale enough that he could walk away from any job if he wanted.
This trip was for fun, a welcome opportunity to explore Kauai at a leisurely pace, given that he would be here for three weeks. He would be very active: hiking, snorkelling, and golfing, interspersed with periods of just hanging out at the beach or pool. This was one of those days.
He had risen just before dawn, heading out for a hike along the shore, toting his camera with him. The cool morning air was bracing. Michael delighted in the quiet calmness surrounding him, ocean waves serenely rolling in and out, the sun just below the horizon soon to declare its glorious presence. There was the odd soul dotting the landscape from time to time, but for the most part he was alone with his thoughts.
Following his stroll along the beach Michael had a quick shower, then made his way to the quaint little bistro on the ground floor of the hotel for a leisurely breakfast, a spectacular view of the surf crashing along the shore adding to the idyllic experience. Consuming most of a delicious stack of fluffy pancakes and downing a couple of cups of coffee he then sauntered over to the pool.
Quickly locating a poolside lounge chair he placed his towel on top. Glancing around it became evident to him that there were few people present. A couple were on the far side, reclining in their chairs and tanning. An attractive redhead who appeared to be about his age was sitting a few seats away. She was wearing a red one piece, a wide brimmed sun hat and sunglasses partially obscuring her face. Two children maybe nine or ten years old were splashing around in the shallow end, and the only other person in the water was a blond of indeterminate age swimming languidly but confidently from one side to the other, sometimes beneath the water for long stretches.
Slipping off his flip flops he pulled his t-shirt over his head then made his way to a set of steps leading into the pool. Michael eased his way into the water. Going in about five feet he remained there for a few minutes before dipping below the surface, swimming a few meters before resurfacing. He was able to get a better look at the blond girl. She was young, probably in her early twenties, and very attractive. Michael glanced briefly at her as she swam nearby, then went back to his own less ambitious aquatic endeavors.
After twenty minutes or so he dragged himself out of the water, taking a moment to towel himself off, the rays of the mid-morning sun blazing down through the clear blue sky above. He reclined on the lounger, fatigue washing over him. It was 10:00 am; he still had the rest of the day ahead, so he took this time to relax, reflecting on how good his life was at the moment. And it had been particularly good on this trip, even in the brief time he had been there.
Along with doing a lot of traveling, Michael had also fully dedicated himself to improving his fitness, which he had neglected for several years. He was now in great shape, the best of his life. With that had come a renewed self-confidence, and an increased sexual appetite. Prior to that he was never what you would call a "ladies' man". He had been married for eight years but then divorced when his wife fucked around on him, and he had become somewhat reticent to seek out relationships following the break up, but that was years ago. Things were different now. He really had no problem approaching women, and this trip was proof positive of that. In fact things had gotten off to a bang, pardon the pun, shortly following his arrival.
It had started out innocently enough. He was flying from Toronto, with a stop in Denver. Michael flew first class on the second leg of his journey, which was just over seven hours long, the plane scheduled to touch down around 4:30 pm Hawaii time. His seat was next to the window, and he had the extreme good fortune of not having anyone sitting beside him. Shortly after boarding a flight attendant came by offering a drink.
"Good day sir, could I offer you a sparkling wine or juice perhaps?"
Michael glanced up, pausing in the middle of reading the safety instructions, a superstitious habit he had adopted many years ago. Leaning over the vacant seat beside him was an attractive young woman, perhaps in her mid to late twenties. She was wearing a dark grey skirt, a white blouse beneath a grey blazer, and a tiny red scarf around her neck. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a bun behind her head. Two large brown eyes complimented a tiny nose, a cute dimple on each cheek. But what really stood out were a pair of luscious looking, vividly red lips.
"That sounds fabulous, I'd love some wine please," Michael said.
The pretty attendant poured the bubbly liquid into a glass then reached across and in front of him, placing it on his tray table.
"Enjoy sir."
"Thank you sweetheart," Michael replied.
As soon as the words were out of his mouth he became slightly self conscious. He was adept at flirting, but it was a bit out of character for him to refer to a woman as "sweetheart," at least one whom he had just met. He had always considered it to be an overly cocky affectation, and now here he was using it himself. It just kind of slipped out, yet it somehow felt very natural, which in itself surprised him.
"My pleasure sir. If there's anything else you need, just let me know. My name is Danielle."
Michael instinctively glanced at her name tag, immediately observing that she also appeared to possess a pair of rather large, shapely breasts concealed beneath her uniform. Endeavoring to be polite he made a concerted effort to avoid staring at her chest, quickly looking back into her eyes.
"Thank you Danielle," he replied with a relaxed confidence.
Smiling warmly she turned away to deal with the two people sitting in the row beside his. As she did so he summarily sized up the rest of her. She stood about five feet eight inches tall, her skirt a tad shorter than the other attendants, her shapely bottom beckoning. Her legs were encased within tan stockings, her small feet sporting shiny black pumps with a low heel.
She really is quite the hot little brunette,
he thought to himself.
As she continued down the aisle to provide beverages to the other passengers Michael returned to his pre flight routine, enjoying his wine, and for the moment forgetting about Danielle. She was just a friendly, conscientious flight attendant and he was just another passenger. He was however treated to one fleeting, titillating bonus during takeoff.
Sitting in the first row he had a clear view of Danielle in her jump seat; he could see a significant amount of her sexy legs. As she reclined in her seat her already short skirt ran up, displaying two succulent thighs, her stockings held in place by a garter. The gap between the tops of her hosiery and the hem of her skirt was two or three inches, and she quickly re-adjusted her attire, sliding the skirt back in place a few seconds later, but the short time that her legs were exposed was scintillating.
Fifty minutes after reaching cruising altitude they started the meal service. Michael noticed that Danielle was basically working first class on her own, but she was handling it with ease, courteously taking care of each person in a professional yet personable manner. She came by with his meal, promptly and politely leaving it with him, then went on to serve the other passengers. A while later she returned to clear away the plates and cutlery, beginning at the rear of the cabin, gradually making her way forward, eventually arriving back at his seat.
"So how was your meal?" She asked, smiling brightly.
"Delicious!"
"Terrific. Would you care for a drink?"
"You know, a rum and Coke would be fabulous."
"One rum and Coke, coming right up!"
A few minutes later she was back, a short tumbler filled to the top with the golden brown elixir and plenty of ice. Stretching across the other seat she placed Michael's drink on the tray table, her ruby red lips perhaps a foot or so from his, her hand momentarily resting on his shoulder.
