While the driver holds open the trunk where I gently lay our bags, containing just the necessities (clothes, suntan lotion, several swimsuits, those books we’ve both been meaning to read, oh, and the baby oil, feather, cuffs and other goodies I haven’t told you about) you approach the door—opened for you by the kind-smiling, very large and portly and friendly Hawai’ian driver. The gulfstream IV slowly banks to the left as it approaches Lihue Airport…and out the newly constructed fiberglass windows you can finally see the ocean interrupted by the warm undulating fine sands of a beach that stretches for miles, broken only by secret hidden grottos and steep lush mountain ranges that reach for the few scattered billowing clouds above. Indian sex I’m trying to remember which bikini you have on underneath your short jean skirt tight white shirt. But, it’s only when the plane begins streaking in its final descent passing over leaping dolphins making an arc of the thrown brilliant clear water that the realization hits that we are finally on a week’s vacation in paradise. (to be continued) Read 10371 times |
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