Chapter 6
Gretchen and Linda sat with their crowd, after the huge dinner. Several of the men had left to go get drinks in the bar, including Trace. When the lights began to dim and it was obvious the program was started, she looked around to see if he was on his way back to her side, but as the long Hawaiian chant began and dancers took to the stage, it became clear the men had decided to view the program from the back. She still couldn’t find any of them.
No one else seemed to notice.
One by one, the performers demonstrated different costumes and themes from the various lands of the South Pacific. She watched the all-male fire dancers who did indeed swallow lit torches and did acrobatics between flames, carrying wooden implements. It was a spectacular display and soon she forgot about the vacant seat next to her.
The stage was darkened, and then a gorgeous Polynesian dancer dressed in all white came out covered in flowers. Others spread petals all over the dance floor and kept time with the gentle sway of the most sensual hula she had ever seen.
An older heavy-set woman sat to the side, picked up a ukulele and began singing the beautiful Hawaiian wedding song. The dancer turned her beautiful body to the side, and welcomed her male partner, also dressed in white. It didn’t take Gretchen long to recognize Trace’s physique. His sandy wind-blown hair and bright smile was a welcome sight. He wore white long pants and a white shirt, unbuttoned. He was barefoot.
The audience clapped, recognizing that he’d been picked from the guests to dance with this lovely maiden. She undulated in front of him, and then at his side. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep up with her, but made a good effort. She drifted to his front and pulled his shirt back over his shoulders and dropped it on the stage, revealing Trace’s huge shoulders, his long muscular arms and the way his hips swung from side to side, which delighted the female part of the audience.
The dancer smiled demurely, moved herself in front of him and wrapped his arms around her as they inched first to the right and then to the left together. She pulled away and took one of the flowers from her hair and placed it behind his ear, kissing his cheek.
She demonstrated how fast her hips could swivel, something Trace could not duplicate, or even come close to doing.
Soon, Coop, Armando and a couple other SEALs appeared at the rear of the stage, all shirtless, all attempting to follow the beautiful apparition in white as she moved from man to man, teasing them.
Gretchen knew the normal men they chose from the audiences were overweight sunburned senior citizens, or guys who wouldn’t take their dark socks off. Tonight they were lucky to have some actual men of steel front and center, demonstrating hours of PT and training, most of them better developed than the male dancers in the review. Young girls ran up to the stage and threw their leis at the men, who allowed themselves to be “captured” by the flower lassos.
The older woman drew her song to an end as the beautiful dancer cuddled in Trace’s arms again to close the program. But instead of taking her in his arms, Trace jumped from the stage and came running through the aisle. Within seconds he appeared, hoisted Gretchen from her seat and carried her off down the beach.
Her heart was thumping as she watched the excited crowd over his shoulder. Cheers and clapping erupted and then faded as Trace carried her away into the shadows. He set her down slowly and then let her slide down his front side. She didn’t back away from him as he wrapped his arms around her waist, as she crossed her wrists behind his neck, and then ran her fingers through his hair.
“Thought you wouldn’t mind a little adventure. Thanks for being a good sport,” he whispered, and then he kissed her.
Her body was in flames at the touch of his mouth on hers, as he kissed down her neck and under her ear. She didn’t shy away as his groin pressed against her. But she had to whimper as his hand slipped under her blouse, smoothed over the small of her back, and then slid to her front side, where he slowly drew one hand up to cover her breast.
She needed air, gasping at his squeeze. He was watching her intently, and then kissed her just as her involuntary moan pierced the sounds of the sea when his thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple.
He pressed against her again, and this time she raised her leg, feeling his hip and muscled thigh against her own.
His beautiful chiseled body shone perfectly in the moonlight like a Greek statue. Her fingers splayed to travel the hardness of his mid section, up over his pecs and then back down again. His hand guided hers to his length, busting against the fabric of the white stretchy pants.
He slipped his palm under her sarong, feeling the length of her upper leg and then traveling to her butt, pulling her into him deeper. Her fingers lingered on the zipper of his pants as her pubic bone rode his thigh, cresting waves of pleasure all over her body.
He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She tasted the saltiness of his chest, listened to his heartbeat and flicked her tongue over his nipple, which returned a satisfying groan back to her.
She was oblivious to everything else. The ocean waves cresting and breaking along the wet sand mimicked the beat of her heart. His breathing was ragged, his kisses desperately deep and getting harder. Somewhere there were thoughts about privacy and decorum, but she’d shed them, just as she now shed her skirt. He kneeled in front of her and took her panties down with his teeth, which made her whole body shake with need. His tongue found her slit, and she gasped, clutching him tighter, pulling her shirt up to release her breasts.
She lowered herself to her knees, tasting the sour saltiness of her own arousal on his lips and tongue. Her fingers felt for his zipper, which he’d already undone. Her knees hugged his hips as he leaned back. Their fingers laced together, guiding his cock to her opening and squeezing his penetration with a sigh coming from both of them. He held her hips and pressed her down on him so that he was deep, and she nearly passed out.
It had been years since she’d been desired, since she’d felt these flames she was now basking in. It had been too long, and now, she was quickly losing control, begging him to take her hard and without any hesitation. His thrusts she met with her own pressure, her internal muscles welcoming him to her womanhood, her kisses to his ears, eyes, and the top of his head as his teeth and tongue devoured and suckled her breasts.
She had no idea she had felt such emptiness, now filled with his glorious length. Aware that she was totally wanton, Gretchen asked for more. He flipped her body, gently laying her back on the wild grasses under the palm. He thrust deep and hard and she held him there, squeezing and pressing his groin into her. His hips moved fluidly, pumping her wildly as if testing how much she could take. All she knew was that she wanted more, had always needed more, and would need more than this quick little tryst in the moonlight dangerously stolen on this magical evening under the stars.
Years of loneliness withered away as their lovemaking turned her bones to rubber and opened up the deep chasm of her soul. Whoever he was, no matter what was to follow next, Trace had brought her from the dead to the living, showing her that it had all been worth it. It mattered not how long it lasted. She’d been found, touched by a man in ways she never knew possible.
She’d be powerless to stop it now. She would forever remain awakened.