This is the second section of a six-part story, so you are advised to start at part 1. Because it was written as one story, rather than written in episodes or chapters, I have made no attempt at recapping previous parts or reintroducing characters at the beginning of later sections.
In the preface to part one, I talked about my decision to publish this in the Erotic Couplings section. Since then, the Literotica admins have moved it to Novels and Novellas. I've decided to just roll with that.
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I woke up the next morning to the sound of the toilet flushing. Helen came out of the bathroom still completely naked, and I marvelled at her lack of self-consciousness as she started making some coffee before finally starting to get dressed.
In contrast to Helen, I was feeling very self-conscious. I was still naked, and my pyjamas were lying on the floor in the middle of the room. I was hoping that Kat would go into the bathroom so I could get dressed, but when I looked over at her I could see that she had her own reasons for staying in bed.
Soon after we had turned out the lights, we had struggled with the noise of the air conditioner, so Kat had gotten up to turn it off. The downside of this was that the room had gotten very hot, and the result of that was that I could see from her bare shoulders that she had removed her pyjama top during the night. She had probably put it on the bed beside her, but it was now out of reach on the floor.
Once Helen was dressed, she said "Come on you two. I want to get to the breakfast buffet before they run out of the good stuff." Her eyes were focused on Kat with a teasing smile, and I could see Kat respond with a plaintive 'help me' look. Helen decided to take pity on her and turn her attention to me.
I was confident that Helen didn't actually want me to expose myself to Kat, and this seemed confirmed when she picked my pyjamas off the floor. However, she decided to twist the knife by tossing the pyjamas into my suitcase and pulling out a pair of underwear. As my need to use the toilet was becoming urgent, I quickly pulled on the underwear under the sheet before going into the bathroom.
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After breakfast we checked out of the hotel and walked through the town since we didn't have to be back at the airport until the afternoon. We did a bit of shopping and enjoyed some coffee and cake. We had lunch in a cafe with a big window overlooking the street, and at one point Kat exclaimed "Look there. Do you think they're from Hilda's island?"
Kat was pointing to two females, a woman in her forties and a teenager who looked like mother and daughter. They were both wearing long blue dresses with long sleeves that really made them stand out. It suddenly occurred to me that Helen and Kat were both dressed in a similar fashion; Helen was wearing a long-sleeved blouse and a long skirt while Kat was wearing a long-sleeved maxi dress. The key difference was that, while Helen and Kat looked modern and stylish, these women outside looked old-fashioned and frumpy.
"Do they still really dress that way?" I asked.
"They do when they're out in public," replied Helen.
"What about the men? Should I be wearing long trousers and a shirt and tie?"
"No. Men can get away with wearing anything unless they're actually going to church," said Helen.
"It's another victory for the patriarchy," said Katerina.
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Kat's assumption that the two women came from Hilda's island was confirmed when we saw them waiting for the same plane. The plane was a small one, with room for only six passengers. They politely responded to our greetings, but it seemed obvious that they were reluctant to engage in much conversation with us.
When the plane arrived at our destination, we could see that it was a volcanic island. The volcano wasn't very large, but it did mean that the majority of the farms and settlements hugged the coast. The airport was just a single paved runway on the western side of the island. There was certainly no terminal building. Instead, all we found was a small carpark containing two vehicles, each with a small group of people standing waiting for the plane.
The woman and her daughter who had flown with us from Pago Pago disembarked first and walked towards a white Toyota Previa where there was a man and three women waiting for them. All the women were dressed in the same very plain and modest fashion. There was a lot of hugging all round.
Helen led Kat and me toward the other vehicle where there was a man and three women waiting. In contrast to the first group, the women in this group were wearing more fashionable clothing, although still modestly covering their arms and legs. I also noticed that they seemed reserved and uncertain. As we got closer, the first group seemed to switch their attention to us, curiously observing our arrival from just a short distance away. Kat, who was walking beside me, quickly whispered in my ear. "Just do what the other guy does. Introductions can be quite formal here."
Out of the group of four waiting to meet us, a man who looked to be in his early to mid-thirties stepped forward. One of the women also stepped forward, a pretty woman who looked about my age with long, platinum blonde hair. The other two women remained a step or two behind. One of them had a similar look to my wife Helen. She was a classic beauty, tall, with long brown hair. I estimated her to be in her late twenties. The other woman was younger, maybe early twenties. She had a plainer face and long thick blonde hair bundled messily on top of her head. Out of the four of them, this last woman was the only one smiling. She seemed to be holding herself back from running forward to greet us, so I naturally assumed that this was Hilda.
Helen stopped walking a few metres before we reached our hosts and ushered me forward. The man stepped forward to shake my hand. "Welcome. My name is Jonathan Eaton."
"Thank you," I said. "My name is Finnian Doyle."