Niue is a rock in the Pacific a bit east of Tonga. To be accurate, it's a big coral atoll but that might lead you to think of palm trees swaying above white sandy beaches. Wrong! Niue has no beaches, no exciting markets and almost no night life. It takes about three hours to drive right round the island and frankly it isn't worth the effort. You could see and do everything that Niue has to offer in two days but unfortunately you're stuck there for a week because there's only one flight in and out on Friday and that's it.
My wife Jenn and I were met at the basic little airport by the owner of our motel. He was a leathery old character called Barry (me mates call me Bazza) Collins, a bit like Steve Irwin, the crocodile hunter, but without the crocs or the charisma. He'd come here from Australia nearly thirty years ago, married a Niuean girl who, after ten years of marriage, had boarded a boat with some American sailors and sailed off into the blue, never to return.
We heard this and more of Bazza's history as he drove us, mostly through scrubby bush, to his motel. Jenn was sitting beside him in the front his elderly Mitsubishi Pajero.
(I've been told that Pajero means wanker/jerk off/masturbator in Spanish but that's probably too good to be true.) I sat in the back of the Wanker and was largely ignored. Bazza was clearly drawn to my wife and who wouldn't be.
At forty-two Jenn was a rose in full bloom, a ripe and luscious peach, a summer's... I could go on but you get the idea. You want a more prosaic picture? OK, but remember that my wife isn't a fitness model, a movie star or some adolescent's wet dream of sexy perfection. She's the mother of two lively young adults which is going to have an impact on anyone. Having said that I think she's gorgeous and I'm not alone.
Jenn is 5'4" tall in flats. She has medium length auburn curls which she occasionally straightens. Her eyes are a deep brown and her lips are full and sensuous. She has a slightly rounded tummy, wide hips and is hyper conscious of a couple of tiny varicose veins on her shapely legs. More detail? Alright, you perv, I know what you're after. Jenn has large breasts, not massive but generous. They're a little more pendulous than they used to be but still bravely defy gravity and her sensitive nipples point up and out, ideal for sucking. She has a nicely rounded butt and keeps her pubic hair neatly trimmed inside her bikini line, except for the rare times when she lets me shave it off.
That's all you get! Perhaps my description makes Jenn sound rather ordinary but believe me, she's not. Jenn is intelligent, funny, full of life and laughter. Her vivacity transforms her appearance from pleasant to captivating. Her dark eyes sparkle with mischief, her mouth just begs to be kissed and her sultry contralto voice sends thrills straight from your ears to what one of my precocious kids once called your erroneous zones.
Jenn loves sex. She's not a nympho, well only when I get her super turned on. She's a mature woman with a healthy sexual appetite and few inhibitions. Perhaps it's that's sexual energy that makes her such a desirable little fertility goddess.
What about me, you ask? OK you didn't ask but I'm going to tell you anyway. My name's Alexander Sanderson, usually Alex or Al. I'm a fifty three year old English teacher with gray hair and a bit too much padding round my middle. How's that for average and boring! Also if you did the math you've worked out that I'm a cradle snatcher. Jenn's eleven years younger and a hundred times hotter than I am. She came to my school as a student teacher straight out of university and I was the experienced department head who became her mentor, her friend and finally her lover.
So why did a twenty one year old hotty go for a boring old fart like me? It could have been my twelve inch cock and my mind blowing sexual technique but as I don't have either of those it wasn't. In fact we clicked on so many levels that the age gap really didn't matter. We both enjoyed movies, books, music, photography, food, both cooking and eating it, sex and travel, especially now that the kids were old enough to look after themselves. And fortunately Jenn has always had a thing for older men.
Last question... why Niue? Easy one. Jenn loves a bargain and the Niue holiday was remarkably cheap. Sometimes this thriftiness works out splendidly, other times not so well. This was looking like one of the you-get-what-you-pay-for times.
Bazza turned up a dirt road which led to his modest establishment. There were six cabins around the edge of a large paddock which provided plenty of room for a large, inviting swimming pool which to my dismay didn't exist. Bazza's response was typical of his approach to his business.
"Aw yeah.. I've been meaning to put one in for years... haven't quite got round to it yet."
Our cabin was basic to say the least, or possibly the most. It consisted of one reasonably spacious room with a tiled floor. There was a kitchenette with an old fridge, a small round table with three chairs, a fold out couch and a double bed. Did you notice what's missing from this picture? That's right, no bathroom!
The bathroom was a communal affair in its own small concrete block building. It was even more basic than our cabin with a concrete floor, three showers, only one of which worked and two toilets. It didn't appear to be finished. There were pipes that weren't attached to anything and several holes in the wall for pipes that hadn't been installed.
Bazza proudly pointed out his "solar heating system". It consisted of several black polythene bags suspended above the roof, the sort of arrangement you might have for a camping shower. Bazza claimed that it was a "bloody ripper" and I have to admit we didn't run out of hot water while we there, as long as we kept our showers to less than three minutes.
If you're observant you may have noticed that I didn't mention a television, for obvious reasons. "There's a tele in the lounge (a run-down communal room with a couple of old couches, a small pool table with one twisted cue and an old TV) but the local programs are shit." Bazza pronounced it sheet. "You can always hire a video down the road at Buck's."
The only upside was that we were the only guests so we wouldn't have to share the communal facilities; however, with no pool, no TV, and a walk to the outside bathroom, a lesser man might have been grumpy whereas I was my usual gracious self.
"Oh fuck!" I said heavily. "And furthermore, fuck!"
"Don't be like that." Jenn sat down beside me on the bed. "At least the bed feels comfy."
"It may well be the only thing that works around here."
Jenn stretched out on the bed. "It's a bloody ripper mate." I had to chuckle at her excellent impression of our host.
"This may go down in the Guinness Book of Records as the most boring holiday of all time."
"Look on the bright side cobber." Jenn continued with her broad Aussie parody. "You have six days to unwind... de-stress... relax. And we'll find some fun things to do. There's the whale watching."
"Which leaves five and half days..."
"You have lots of good books on your Kindle and you have your private PlayStation." Jenn spread her arms wide and wriggled her body in a remarkably seductive manner. "I'll make sure you don't get bored."
I lay down on the bed beside her, enjoying the view. Even after twenty years of marriage she could still bring me to attention more swiftly and a lot more sweetly than a marine drill sergeant.
"Hmm" I mused reaching for her breasts. "I'm not all that familiar with PlayStation controls. I'm never sure which buttons to press and which ones to turn." Jenn heard a slight noise, looked up and then nodded at the door. There was Bazza looking a bit sheepish, holding a tray of beer cans. Beside him was a beautiful girl in her early twenties, with long back hair, milk chocolate skin and a voluptuous figure. I sat up hurriedly.
"Thought you jokers might like a cold one." Bazza remarked, walking in as if he owned the place, which of course he did. "This is me youngest daughter, Darlene. She keeps the place tidy, does the books does..."
"Pretty much all the work." Darlene broke in with a dazzling smile.
Jenn and I sat on the couch sipping our cans of XXXX (because Aussie's can't spell beer). Bazza and Darlene sat on kitchen chairs and chatted. Bazza and his wife had four kids in quick succession, the youngest, Darlene, being just five when her mother left. Fortunately several Aunties helped with the child rearing. Two of the kids were now married and living in New Zealand. One wasn't married and was in Australia with her partner. Bored yet? I certainly was.
Pretending I was keen to explore, I asked the dad and daughter duo about the activities available.
"Well there's the whale watching... that's bloody awesome."
"Yes we booked online. We're going on Monday."
" There's fishin. I'd take you out meself but me outboard's bust."
"There are some special spots for snorkeling." Darlene gave me a friendly smile."I'd be happy to show them to you."
"There are some cracker caves... and bush walks if you're into that."
"Any markets?" Jenn asked hopefully.
"There's a fresh produce market couple of mornings a week but you got to get there real early or it'll all be gone."
"Restaurants?" I asked, less hopefully.
