Hawaii Aloha: A meeting of friends
We hear Santana and play with friends after!
This is a continuation of previous Hawaii Aloha!! stories and is best understood by reading the previous installments.
In the next days, I replayed that day with Mary like an old movie that is a personal favorite. You laugh at the jokes and thrill at the excitement, even though you know the ending; in fact, can recite the dialogue line by line.
Thursday ultimately came and I got back into the car to go and pick up Mary. On arrival she popped out of her place and cavorted over to the car with a big grin on her face. She was wearing a sleeveless floral blouse, white skirt and sandals and her braids were flying about only partly contained by a bandana that matched her blouse. I rolled down the window and she reached in and gave me a passionate kiss.
"Ready for some SANTANA!" she exulted and spun around in the grass.
I had to smile. Unlike 99% of the world, music is not really my thing and I had seriously considered begging out of the commitment. Now I was glad that I agreed to go to the concert with her. She skipped around the boot of the car and on sitting down reached across and gave me another kiss and a grin.
I backed out and for the next few moments had to make sure I knew the way to the concert hall. Mary was chatting animatedly about previous concerts and how Santana lived on Maui and so was sort of a favorite son of the island.
We ultimately arrived at the Maui Arts and Cultural Center where the concert was to be held in their open-air amphitheater. Because we were late to book the concert we were relegated to the standing room only part of the grassy amphitheater and were milling around with the other concertgoers. Mary was in her element and was chatting up every one about us. She was a force of nature and I just stood back and watched her operate.
Soon enough the concert began and I found myself standing behind Mary, my hands on her hips swaying to the music. We heard Santana and his band sing "Cloud Nine" and "Love is You Love Me" but the audience came alive with "Mandotai Black Magic Womani Gypsi Queen". Somewhere along the way Mary began to grind her ass into my crotch with the resultant rise of my cock to full staff. I "heard" very little of the remaining concert. My total attention was in dry humping Mary. Occasionally, I would brush across her tits or feel her up under her dress. At one point, I managed to get my fingers over her pussy which I found moist and steamy!
At the conclusion of the concert we were both at advanced stages of arousal and on the verge of tearing each other's cloths off there on the grounds of the Maui Cultural Center. But as we were exiting Mary ran into two of her many friends, Sarah and her husband Marc. Sara was a dirty blond hippie child with wavy light brown hair. Marc was short, 5ft 6 and dark with a devilish goatee and a small pot belly and wore one of those loose floral "Hawaii" shirts that look so tacky on fat pale vacationers but seems to be the only natural attire of a tanned native male.
"Hey Mary! Wats up?" Marc called out when he saw us (really her).
Mary bounced over to the couple replying, "O hey Marc! I'm just groovin' and lovin' the scene!"
Sara gave a little scream and ran to embrace Mary. "Weren't they fantastic!"
"Yeah!, Santana is the best!"
I stood on the edge of our group of four, smiling at the energy of Mary and noting the irritated looks of the other concertgoers as they swirled around the obstruction that our little group created in the rush to parking lot.
"Guys, this is my friend Sam. Sam, this is Sarah and Marc."
I put out my hand which was shunted aside as Sara gave me a big hug. In the process, Marc gave me a pat on the back saying "Hey bro!"
Sara's embrace was a full contact affair and treated me to feel of the firm softness of her pendulous breasts through the thin material of her tank top and floor-length skirt. Little Sammie was happy to rub up against Sara's pillowy belly and as we separated, she gave my boner a squeeze, saying, "I see Mary is up to her old tricks!"
I smiled a sheepishly back at her, saying, "yeah, Mary is certainly a handful!" As I did so, Mary possessively embraced my left arm, "He's, the best Sara" and in a stage whisper leaned toward her friend and said "... and he's got a big cock!"
The two women began to peel with laughter, further annoying the remaining concert goers who just wanted to get to their cars.
We chatted for a few minutes more when Sara said to Mary, "Want to come back to our place for some drinks?"
"Mary replied, sounds like fun!" and I thought "
Damn.
More like fun delayed!"
but smiled at the two women and followed them out to the cars.
"See you soon!"
"Be there in a minute" and we separated for the privacy of our cars.
Mary turned to me as we buckled up, saying, " I hope this is OK, Sam. It will be great! You'll see! Sara and Marc are a lot of fun to be with."
Ten minutes later we arrived at their place, one of those one story compact bungalows typical of much of Maui. So, we parked the car on the curb and walked across the grass entering the screened but otherwise open front door.
Marc was standing to the side of their comfortable living room and greeted us, "You're here! Fantastic! Come in."
The room was lined with bookshelves and baubles were scattered about the room accenting a pair of mismatched sofas facing each other across a small round coffee table.
"What can I get you? We have wine, beer ... Sara's mixing some sangria ..."
"Beer sounds good to me", I replied.
Mary piped in, "I'll have some sangria!" and we sat down together in one of the sofas.
A minute or two later, Sara entered with a bowl of tortilla chips and a tinkling pitcher filled with ice, fruit and a dark red wine, setting them down on the coffee table.
Marc handed me an open bottle of Corona and we clinked bottles together as he turned to flop into the adjacent couch. Sara handed Mary a glass of sangria and then cuddled up next to her husband with her legs curled up underneath her flowing skirt.
We chatted about the concert and the recent election of the other Hawaii native son, Obama. Soon enough, a bong was out and we were taking hits of weed in addition to the alcohol. So, we were pretty waisted when the couples began to nuzzle each other in earnest. Marc had his hand down the front of Sara's tank top and was openly tweaking her left nipple as the right one pointed the front of her shirt on the other side. Sara was running her hand up and down the surface of his left thigh dangerously close to the swelling in his crotch.
Mary was cuddled in my arms and so when our eyes met, I gave her an open-mouthed kiss. She was wet and warm and her tongue danced between my lips and so I responded by sticking my tongue back. All of a sudden, the passion that had been lapping at the surface of our consciousness burst over the damn made by the conventions of polite society and I found myself in a full make out session with Mary. She embraced me and I began to fondle her breasts through the surface of her blouse. She was bra-less and I could feel the soft pillows of them through the thin material. Her hands were all over my back and torso and our tongues were doing a kind of wet wrestling match. I started to undo the buttons of her shirt when I felt her hands caressing the surface of my crotch.
