Author's note: This story takes place in the island of Oahu in Hawaii. The places mentioned are real (albeit a tad difficult to pronounce), but the characters of this love tale are fictional and over the age of eighteen. Please feel free to provide constructive comments and suggestions. They are always welcomed and much appreciated. Enjoy.
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"Shir—ley! This is Norman. I need a 'big' favor...please, please, please! You gotta help me, Shirley."
"What is it now, Norman? Where are you? I can hear a lot of noise in the background...it sounds like rain."
"Yeah, it's rain, and it's pouring. And I'm stuck...my damn car broke down... again... and I can't get the damn piece of junk started."
"Hah, I told you it was going to break down someday soon. So, you want me to pick you up? Where exactly are you?"
"I'm somewhere on the road from Wahiawa to Haleiwa...right in the middle to the goddamn cane fields...just before the first set of snake turns...off on the side of the road."
"Well, I just left my aunt's in Waipahu and can turn around. I should be there in about twenty minutes if the traffic is light. It should be at this time of night and especially in this kind of weather. Hang on and I'll be there."
"Thanks, Shirley. I knew I could count on you."
"Humph...you're lucky I don't have some hunky lover humping me between my legs or you'd be shit out of luck. Damn it, alone again on a Saturday night. You were right about that asshole, Mike...all smile and big body...he just wanted to use me...then bagged after he used and abused me... sigh...can you believe I still miss him?"
"Hello? Earth to Shirley! Mike was a fucking bastard. You miss a stiff cock, but you don't really miss him. He treated you like shit once he had you in bed."
"Yeah, you're right. He was a shithead...and I am a slut when it comes to men with hard bodies...and even harder cocks. Can you believe I don't remember how many muscle guys I have let screwed me?"
"Well, unless you've been fooling around with guys and not telling your best friend from elementary school days, Norman was your...hmmm...I won't tell just how many he-men you've fallen for since your first time with that asshole all-star tight end underneath the bleachers in our senior year in high school."
"Norman! Have you been keeping count of my guys? How dare you, you pervert!"
"Oh, please. I wouldn't know about all your guys if you didn't tell me about all your scumbag so-called boyfriends. And look who's talking? You keep track of all my affairs and remind me regularly of my dismal fail-to-score rates. Aren't you the one always reminding me of how many times I've been dump by...what is it that you call them...oh, yeah...my 'skanky' sluts. Thank you, Shirley!"
"Well, it only because I'm tired of seeing you get hurt. You're kind of dumb, Norman, but you're my dumb Norman who always look me especially when I've been down in the dumps...which lately is quite often. Okay, Norman, I'm approaching the airplane bridge of Wahiawa and should be getting to you soon."
"Okay, see you soon. Hurry because it's starting to rain very hard." As I ended my cell call, I realized how tonight was indicative of our unique relationship. We had met in elementary school and were immediately drawn to each other.
From a broken home, Shirley wore hand-me-downs, got free lunches, and often didn't have any school supplies. This made her an edgy and lonely little Japanese girl whom was often teased by the other kids. But even at that tender age, Shirley was a cute little 'toughie' who excelled at sports and had no qualms punching out any boy teasers or taking on male challengers.
However, when it came to girls, Shirley was at a loss. Unlike boys, the girls would snicker behind her back, exclude her from their groups, and cruelly tease her by calling her mean little names that made fun of her. That's when I entered Shirley's life.
One day a group of girls were taunting Shirley to the verge of tears, I did the unthinkable by standing up for Shirley. Shaming them with their own behavior, I used my cutting wit and sharp tongue on those mean little bitches. Giving them a taste of their own medicine, I put them down and made a few cry. Protecting Shirley came naturally to me, and would turn out to be the first of many times to come.
Shirley soon returned the favor a few days later. You see while I was the 'smart kid' of the school, I was at the time a scrawny, pencil-neck geeky white boy who was surrounded by Asians, Polynesians, and mixed heritage kids. My parents were always working and never had time to teach me how to do things especially when it came to sports. Totally uncoordinated, I was always the last kid (even after all the girls) to be chosen. However, when three boys tried to hijack me one day after school, Shirley stepped in and proceeded to beat the living shit out of the bunch.
Because we had nobody else, Shirley and I became fast and best friends, hanging with each other, eating lunch together, and studying. She helped me to strengthen my scrawny muscles, become better coordinated, and learn how play sports. In turn, I tutored Shirley, sharing with her the joy of learning and building in her the confidence to be whatever she wanted to be.
At first people that it was cute that the two little odd-balls had found each other. But as the years rolled by, they began to think that we might be more than just friends. You see not many boys and girls couldn't just be 'friends'; there had to be more.
Throughout high school, Shirley developed into a beautiful athletic young woman. Her Japanese genes gave her a toned slender five-three form, perky modest breasts, a flat stomach, and downright tight buns. With shoulder-length dark hair, Shirley had smoky eyes, a cute nose, and any engaging smile that when combined with her tanned complexion gave her an exotic appeal.
As for me, I had sprouted from a scrawny geek to a big geek at six-two and just under two-hundred pounds. Thanks to Shirley's incessant nagging to exercise with her, I managed to develop enough muscles to be physically intimidating at first glance. However, once you got to know me, it was clear that I had the disposition of the proverbial cream puff.
People said Shirley and I made a cute couple, but we steadfastly denied any romantic relationship. Although we couldn't deny that there was a mutual attraction between us, we naively attributed to being just best friends. For some reason, we could not -- would not -- cross that fine line that separates friends and lovers.
After a while people began to think that either one or both of us had to be gay. It was because of this rumor, we began dating other people. Shirley was attracted to jocks who were the only guys capable of matching her physicality. The problem, however, was that these dudes tended to be self-centered, and had no qualms using people, females, and especially Shirley.
My taste in women proved as equally as disastrous as Shirley's in men. I tended toward the ultra-feminine sorority girls because there was something about these debutant- types that really gave me a boner. Unfortunately, these dainty little bitches were often the totally self-absorbed types or aspiring beauty queens. Either way, they were good at twisting geeks like me around their little fingers with sexual teasing and favors, and the flicking me away like an unwanted snot booger once they got what they wanted from us.
Yet, through our myriad of dismal affairs, Shirley and I always had each other. We shared the graphic details of our hopeful (and often imaginary) romances, advised each other on the workings of the opposite gender, and encouraged each other as to what to do when things got rough.
But in the end, we were always there to help one another picked up the broken pieces when we crashed-and-burned, applying liberal doses of consolation and tender loving care as we pieced one another together for the next big-bodied bozo or snotty bitch to come along.
"Hey, Norman," Shirley shouted as she pulled along side of me, "I called my uncle and he'll tow your car in the morning to his shop and you can decide what to do with it tomorrow. Hop in and let's head back to town."
"Oh, Jeez, Shirley," I exclaimed as I threw my gear in her backseat, "I need to ask you a 'really' big favor! Can you take me up to the Pupukea Heights cabin? Please... pretty please, Shirley...please..."
"What? Is that where you were going? You know how hard that bridge is to cross when the stream is overflowing..."
"Come on, Shirley, please. I need to get to the cabin."
"Hey, wait a minute. Don't tell me you have a rendezvous with Miss 'What's Her Name'?' You know, that frilly-fluffy pledge girl -- Cindy-- who's got you jumping through the hoops? I don't know how many term papers you've written for her in exchange for a little nooky. Don't you know she'll only to be dumped once grades were posted."
When I didn't respond, Shirley quietly said, "Norman, I just don't want to see you hurt again. She's no good, Norman...not for my Norman."
"Cindy's not that bad," I finally said after a sullen period of silence. "She's just immature...conceited...and manipulative...BUT...she a big pair of great knockers and one hell of a tight ass...AND...she promised that she'd spend the weekend with me at the cabin if I did her last term paper...which I did. However, we didn't know it was going to rain like this when I extracted that promise from Cindy."
"So, if you folks are going to be together this weekend, where's Cindy?"
"Well, she said she had some sort of sorority pledge thing she had to attend, but that she'd drive up afterwards and meet me at the cabin."
"Norman, do you really expect her to drive all the way out from town to Pupukea at night to go up a mountain to spend a weekend in a primitive cabin? Are you fricking nuts?"