Notes from the author:
Hello Literotica reader. I was able to track down the real people my characters, Nefertiti Ulamat and Dr. Nelly Ling were based on. And again I will remind all that my character names are totally made up. If there are real people out there with the same names it's just a coinsurance. Of course the existence of the real Nefertiti and Dr. Ling doesn't mean that the information I'm basing my story on is true, but it does make it a bit more intriguing. My friend on Maui has been reading the stories from the start and has taken it upon himself to track down some of the art pieces I've described. He thinks he's found the painting of Aly done in the style of Edward Manet. It's in the home of a doctor that lives in Haiku, Maui. He hasn't seen the painting himself, he saw it in a photograph from a party held at the doctor's house. He plans on making a visit to the doctor's home as soon as he can.
*****
Chapter 58 Came a Spider
My odd painting session with Li Hong swirling in my head as I parked Hawk's Bronco on the street at Aly's house. It was close to six and I was hungry. Aly said that her landlords were out of town and that we would have the big house. and more importantly, the POOL all to ourselves. I opened the front door of the big house and stepped into an elegant foyer. The living room was understated nineteen sixties Japanese modern with a cozy lived in feel. There were lots of books everywhere and an eclectic collection of art on the walls and shelves.
The delicious smell of grilled teriyaki chicken greeted me. Just under the prevailing smell of teriyaki was the delicate aroma of boiled white rice with a touch of sesame seed oil. The smells made me think of home. A rhythmic sound drew me to the professional stainless steel kitchen where I found Hawk chopping a monstrous Maui-Kula onion into thin slices. Scattered on the counter around him were bowls of goodies: black olives, tiny dill pickles, Spanish olives, sweet pickled ginger, hoi-sing sauce, carrot sticks, celery, sliced boiled eggs, lumpia, wasabi mustard and two dipping bowls of soy sauce. I sampled the soy sauces with a finger; one was teriyaki the other plain. I snatched up several pimento stuffed Spanish olives and popped them in my mouth one at a time.
"Everything looks good, Aly's out done herself," I said.
Hawk laughed with a mocking edge. "Aly had nothing to do with this," he said. " The chick's a disaster in the kitchen. Matt's the one that cooked this all up. The dude's king of the grill."
After sampling more of the pupus, I went out to the living room to the big sliding doors that opened onto the screened in pool deck. Matt stood at an ancient and well seasoned hibachi grill poking at sizzling chicken breasts. He wore brightly colored surfer jams and a light yellow t-shirt decorated with light green palm trees. With his long hair and beard he looked more like a hippy then the grunge out Midwesterner I first met almost a year ago. I slid the patio door open, walked up to my hippy chief and planted a hot long kiss on his mouth. He tasted of sweet teriyaki and beer.
"Mmm, you taste good haole boy. Where's Aly?"
"She's in the hothouse watering some plants. Hawk and I barred her from the kitchen. The girl can't stir, peel or chop to save her life."
From a plate heaped with cooked chicken, I pinched off a bit of meat. Matt slapped the back of my hand, but he was too late as I popped the morsel into my mouth. "Oh, that's ono," I said with the lusty enthusiasm.
I lit off in search of Aly. I crossed to the door of screen covered pool deck. I walked up the sloping backyard to the the hothouse following a path of decorative stone squares. I pulled the creaky spring-controlled door of the hothouse open and was immediately impressed at the size of the structure. The walls and ceiling were made of a double layer of black plastic screen stretched over PVC piping. Row upon row of plants, mostly orchids from what I could tell, filled the place, but I didn't see Aly anywhere inside. Spying a door to at the far end of the structure I headed for it.
The smell of damp rich dirt with an undercurrent of manure made me thing of the county fairs I so loved as a kid. The ones on Maui were the best I thought. Halfway across, the water misting system kicked in overhead showering the plants and me with atomized water. I yelp, picked up the pace and reached the rear door at a near run. By the time I got out, I was soaked to the skin. A little beyond the door, I saw Aly standing among a patch of banana trees weirdly staring into space. She wore cutoffs dirty with muddy hand prints and a dark blue bikini top, there was a perfectly shaped mud red hand print on her right thigh. I headed in her direction.
"STOP!" Aly called out. "Not another step!"
Baffled, I froze. Seconds later her warning became apparent for I found myself staring at the underside of a spider mere inches from my face. One more step and I would have blundered into its web spun between two banana trees. The spider was the size of an open hand; my skin crawled with ingrained arachnophobia.
"Is it poisonous?" I asked in a squeaky voice. Weirdly, mouthing those words created a strange mental vortex and the world seemed to swirl around me.
This was in my dream from the dream study! Fucking deja vu all over again!
"All spiders are poisonous," Aly said casually. She walked up and stood on the other side of the near invisible web with her face a few inches away from the creepy thing. On top of the feeling of deja vu, my painter's instinct kicked in and I blurred my eyes causing Aly's beautiful Asian face and the spider to become one. As I refocused my eyes, Aly puckered. She looked so much like Marilyn Monroe that it made me wonder if Marilyn had a little Korean in her. Then for a brief horrifying second I thought she was going to kiss the spider. She didn't though, and simply blew a small puff of air. Her breath smelled of wine and something sweet. A flash of adrenaline hissing through me like water on a hot grill. The spider reacted too and scurried at frightening speed to the edge of its web, leaped around a banana leaf and out of sight leaving Aly and I staring at each other on opposite sides of the web. A frown wrinkled her brow.
I dropped my gaze to her dark blue bikini top.
Victoria's Secret models have nothing on her I thought randomly.
"Don't wanna wreck it's house," Aly said as she dodged around a banana palm and came around to my side of the web. She gave me an odd look and said, "You're totally wet and I can see your nipples."
I looked down to see that she was right. My dark nipples were so clearly visible beneath the soaked white shirt and white bra that I may as well had been topless. A wave of shyness enveloped me, which was kind of stupid considering that this woman has seen me naked in ways too intimate for casual conversation. It took all my willpower not to cross my arms over my chest to cover up. To add to the awkward moment, my eyes kept involuntarily flickering down to her full breasts.
After a few seconds of embarrassing silence, Aly said, "You have plenty of stuff in my guest room. Go change."
I went to Aly's cottage and changed into fresh dry jeans, sports bra and a t-shirt. As I dressed, I thought, of my disjointed dream from Dr. Ling's dream study. I dreamed about Aly and that web!
I had done some reading on dreams. A common thing for people to do was impose reality onto the memory of their dreams. Was I doing that right now? But it was so freaky how much of the dream had come true. The big difference was that in the dream Aly and me had kissed. ... no wait ... I had kissed Betty not Aly. In the dream I had ASSUMED that Aly and I had kissed. Clearly, I haven't kissed anyone today except for Matt.
"You're imposing, girl," I said aloud as I headed to Aly's living room .
The deje vu feeling returned suddenly making my head spin. I sat heavily on the living room sofa. Shaken, I got up, found a pen and some paper and wrote down the experience. As of yet, I've kept my resent weird feelings to myself. Having freaky dreams that sometimes came true was one thing. These intense moments of ... whatever ... was something else. It made me look crazy. The last thing I wanted was the whole Honolulu University psych department looking at me through the lolo microscope. The little walk down to the big house allowed me to pull it together ... along with a big unhealthy dose of denial. At this point, denial was all I had and I was clinging to it.
In the kitchen, I spied Hawk stacking several pieces of grilled teriyaki chicken on a plate heaped with fragrant rice. That spoke volumes about Matt's cooking because Hawk usually stayed away from greasy fatty foods and would sometimes lecture Matt, Aly and I on our destructive eating habits.
"Busted eatin' the fat," I teased.
"I don't eat the skin," he said in his defense.
As he passed by, I pinched at a chicken thigh on his plate. It was cooked to a crispy blackened perfection and the skin came away easily. Dramatically, I raised the loose piece of fat dripping skin over my head and lowered it into my mouth. The crunch was sublime, the taste perfect.
"Ono," I said licking my grease smeared lips.
An expression of both disgust and pity played on Hawk's face. He opened the fridge and pulled out a Michelob, which I immediately took from him. He reached in for a second beer then did an exaggerated circle around me to stay out of my reach. I laughed. Horsing around with Hawk made the weird feelings recede even further to dim corners of my head.
