Last summer I happened to be in Hawaii. He took off a small bungalow near Honolulu, since an incredible amount was requested at the hotel for the apartments. Naturally, after Australia, New Zealand and Samoa, with which I already managed to get to know each other closely, the money was not much, so now I had to rely only on the economical spending of the free funds I had.

Soon I met a wonderful girl from Oahu, who traveled to many islands of the archipelago: were on Kauaya, Molokaye, Maya and Linaye, having fun at night carnivals, which were arranged by local residents with the participation of professional dancers and sat for hours in a soft nightly cool air, listening to the romantic sounds of the same soft and enveloping consciousness of romantic songs about love and tenderness, beauty and power.

A beautiful girl next to me, fragrant flowers and tall palm trees, the branches of which are gently caressed by a light trade wind coming from the ocean distances to disappear again into the infinity of the sky — that is how I spent some miraculous days of the most amazing nights in my life.

Then I met an even more beautiful and sensual girl, her name was Omata. I gave her my phone number, and - oh, a miracle! - in the evening she really called me and after my rather insistent request came to me in a bungalow.

We swam together, lay in the shade of palm trees and kissed. More at the beginning did not happen. When the night finally fell, we entered the bungalow, and Omata prepared dinner. In the big refrigerator I had everything my heart desires, and not only for dinner, but also a drink - as a result, slowly but surely, we found ourselves in exactly the mood that was necessary in our position. As a matter of fact, as far as I know from my own experience, girls living on the islands of the South Pacific do not need to be excited by alcohol, they were already quite loving.

I loved Omata all night long, and everything was fine, as in a dream: her kisses and sophisticated love positions in which she loved to be. The night flew like one moment. Then, at parting, Omata said that she could see me only after three days, because she would be busy. What she will do, I decided not to clarify.

I slept soundly until noon and only a persistent phone call could hardly wake me up. It was Mr. Banga, whom I recently met on the beach and had already managed to skip a few glasses of rum with him. From what he told about himself, one could understand that this American owned large plantations and was undoubtedly a very rich man.

Will I have the mood and time to visit his bungalow tonight? A glorious party is coming. Okay, I agree, why not. And just before eight o'clock, I was standing in front of his huge, beautifully furnished bungalow, whose windows face directly onto the beach. At this time, the owner appeared in the doorway and loudly, with humming and grimaces that only rich people can afford, invited me to come in and, sitting down in a chair, asked me to get a little bored: he is waiting for the girl who is about to appear, I have to go with her be sure to meet you.

And indeed, after a couple of minutes in the doorway, an amazingly slim girl figure appeared. What was my surprise (which I, however, immediately tried to hide) when I saw that it was Omat. We both pretended to be strangers, but I noticed that meeting me here, at Banga, was not at all an unpleasant surprise for her. So she was a “call girl.” “Omata and after dinner will delight us with its fiery dances,” I heard, as if in a dream, the words of Banga.

Dinner was great, we drank champagne, whiskey.Omata was very lively, seemed quite different from what I had in the bungalow, and I was sure that she had been here, at Bang, more than once. I noticed that Banga handed her a small silver box the size of a pack of cigarettes. “Omata is a great dancer, and I pay her for that,” said Bang, noticing my gaze. I, of course, did not ask how much money was in this box, but Omata later told me that she received three hundred dollars at that time. Do I like Omata and me? I became interested in Bang, to which I answered, naturally, in the affirmative, especially since this was true, since I already had the opportunity to thoroughly study the slim body of a girl.

At that time, Omata disappeared somewhere, only five minutes later the door hidden in the depths of the hall opened and she reappeared, now dressed as a Polynesian dancer: coral ornaments, flowers in black hair, hips covered with a bandage from a mat, full breasts covered with a wreath from the leaves. Bang put the record in the player, and Omata began her dance. But it was not a fiery dance. Her movements were graceful and very sensual.

Bangu again filled the glasses with champagne. I had already drunk decently and by this time was anything, but not sober. In any case, I had a great mood. We sat in massive armchairs and with great attention followed the movements of the beautiful Omaty. My penis (I suddenly felt it) began to harden, the dance of the girl still aroused me. When Omata was turning, I admired her beautiful dark back. Her long legs on her fingers were covered with silver varnish. Fingers were like independent, able to speak creatures with flexibility, which so struck me already that night when Omata was in my bungalow.

Lips stretched in a sweet smile, grin, revealed the brilliance of beautiful white teeth. “She's great, aren't you?” Asked Bang. “Yes, really great,” I answered mechanically, continuing to recall the night of love with Omata.

After some time, Banga leaned over to me and whispered: “After that, after such a dance, you would have to love her! ...” This sounded like an order, and I thought: “If this kind person knew it! ...”

Occasionally Bang gave the girl a glass of champagne, which she drank in just one sip, without interrupting the dance. Dancing, she went first to Bang and kissed him, and then her voluptuous kiss went to me, and I heard her subtle: “My dear!”

I was so excited that in my life I never wanted to hold a woman to me and connect with her. Here she lifted the bandage of the leaves that hid her chest, and moved it on his back. Her large breasts to the beat of the dance swayed up and down or slightly to the side, depending on the movements she performed. I passionately wanted to dig into her protruding nipples, surrounded by a dark crown, standing out even against the background of her dark body.

Her movements became more and more wild, more and more incendiary. And we men drank and drank. The owner was also clearly tipsy. Here Omata unzipped the mat covering her hips and threw it to the side. Now we could enjoy the sight of a naked and beautifully folded body, which I so enjoyed as recently as yesterday. A thick black forest grew around her grotto, in which I, in our night of love, sank my tongue and lips to get to the champagne that produced its nature and which so refreshed me.

She made rotational movements similar to those that the dancer usually performs when performing “belly dancing”, then her lower belly began to move back and forth, faster and faster, while her hands were pressed to her hips, then they flew up and gently stroked chest. She reproduced love moves with such natural precision that she was breathtaking. Her tongue was peeking involuntarily from behind her snow-white teeth, then hiding again, so that in the next moment she would appear again and make it clear that she could be a woman’s passionate desire.Her hands made gentle, caressing movements, like ...