I had just chased after two young gypsy couples for not paying their tab. They were fast, smart, and they had waited until I left the bar and gone in the back until they ditched out. I came back to the bar and there is this dirty blond with curly hair. She is tall and thin but very curvy, with white white white skin and black rimmed glasses reading a travel book about Hawaii. People come to Hawaii for many reasons but a young-middle-class-intelligent-enough-to-be-doing -research woman like this comes with love or looking for it. Because she was so white I assumed she had just arrived and tried to recommend a few must-see places that were not in that book of hers for her to check out. She started to explain in a very sexy French accent that this was her last night and that she had not really enjoyed herself that much. It rained a lot of the time she was there. As she was talking I could tell another little ten minute Hawaiian shower was about to well up in her eyes. I got her another drink and told her that if she would like herself a f—kn’ howlie guide I was one of the best howlie guides on the island. She smiled and I took care of the rest of the bar. Over the course of a couple of hours I asked her where she had been and every time it was a story that lead to …and then we got there and it was raining. Usually it only rains for around ten perfect minutes in Hawaii, the sun says Allllooohha and the rainbows shine. She severely had been pissed on by Pali, the female God of the islands for about a week. She hung out until I was about to be done and then she said “I want to go dancing.” It was like nails being dragged down a chalk board slowly! We could have walked in the moonlight on the beach and swam naked, gone up to Tantalist and overlooked all of Waikiki with a bottle or two of champagne, or sang some karaoke together but no…she wanted to go dance. So if a brother wanted some lovin’ that was exactly what he was gon’na go do. I took her to Scruples. I get in the bare minimum of dancing that I can possibly get away with and encouraged her to drink so that she didn’t realize what a horrendous dancer I was. As we were talking her accent was driving me insane. It was making me hungrier and hungrier without any need for food to satisfy. The French words that dripped off her tongue and into my ear were intoxicating.
It was time to go but she was very passionate and we sat with her speaking French in my ear for a couple of hours. Finally, it truly was time to do every filthy, trashy, wonderful thing we had promised to do to one another. Her hotel was literally right across the street. Good thing it was because it’s not easy walking with a woman speaking dirty French to you grabbing your meat like she wants to rip it off and bring it home as a souvenir. We got into her hotel room and she was now speaking so much French that I could no longer understand a damn word that was coming out of her mouth. I ripped her clothes off so fast and hard that a button threatened to take my eye out. I pick her up then I realize “I‘m drunk” and “she is a little heavier then she looks.” She was very tall and elegant. I thought, “Easy boy,” and I lay her down slowly and softly. Light from the hall cast a silhouette on a huge pair of the nicest fake store-bought melons. This was the first time I had ever seen fake produce. As I was taking my time I noticed that something was under her left breast. It was another nipple!!! This woman has three nipples. A bikini might have just covered it.
I juggle her fake melons around a bit and flip her over. To see if this animal has a tail too of course! As I do she starts in how “you are such an adventurous lover”. Then she went from passionate and powerful to buck wild in seconds flat and before you know it I am wresting a Spanish bull not a French fox any more. Our bodies slammed together for life and death.
She smoked in bed and spoke about how wonderful her vacation had turned out and in the morning told me of how I kept saying “Speak French to me” in my sleep. Funny thing is that we literally only walked twenty feet from my bar, to dance, and twenty more feet to her hotel room. She had traveled miles all over the island and not found a bit of Aloha. Good thing I bought her a drink and by the way VIVA LA FRANCE!!!
