The Cannibal Kings Husband

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Kimo grabbed my face, kissing me deeply and our mutual passion flared in an instant. I think the leather gloves and that face mask kinda did a number on me. I almost came before he could even put his mouth on me. I found our captain, Nohea, hunched over his laptop and he glanced up, his worried expression turning a little more sour when he saw us. Nohea, a master navigator had left his own family in Scotland with ours.

His wife Katie was one of my closest friends and he had a male partner Kahanu, who was legally married to Katie. It was an unusual arrangement in which the three of them shared a life, a baby and now he was here on this expedition with us. I wondered who he missed more? His man or his woman? The global satellite phones we had bought were our lifelines to our families. We would spend a little time in French Polynesia before heading back home to Hawaii. Nohea swigged at his coffee as I poured some for me and Kimo. This was becoming another sore point.

Nohea was being denied sex. Amador professed to be straight, but a few days into our voyage he started flirting shamelessly with Nohea who ate up the attention. Kimo stared at him. Kimo had many powers, but satphones and computers messed with his psychic wiring. Nohea himself had relied on his wits, leading a Pacific expedition on a double-hull canoe using only night stars as his guide.

He badly missed our babies, too. There was a moment of mournful silence. They had followed us to California, where Kimo and I had legally wed, and sent documents stating their intention to remove our children from us the moment we returned home. Amador moved up to the deck and the second he was out of the galley, Nohea leaned into us. Get another cook. A woman. Kimo surprised me by taking me in his arms and kissing me deeply. In private, we fucked constantly. It was impossible to worry and be upset when we touched one another.

I heard his soft moans one night as Kimo and I made love and I was too far gone to care. Amador had left food for us. Fresh tuna and eggs. I plated the food and Kimo and I ate heartily. We cleaned up the galley and went up to the deck. It was a beautiful, sunny day and I was once again amazed at our excellent purchase. Nohea had found us a sturdy Valdettaro cutter sloop. She was one hundred and twelve feet long, weighed a hefty one hundred and thirty tons with her steel hull. Kimo and Nohea were both impressed with her enclosed pilothouse, a very comfortable, weatherprotected room with a table and bench seats.

I knew Kimo was thinking of our family members being in there in times to come as we manned the navigation station. Beyond the pilothouse was the aft deck, a wonderful place to lie down and catch some sun, watch the ocean action…and as Kimo and I discovered, have some blazing, hot sex.

Amador reeled in a huge tuna. Francois doubled as the medic as was his custom. The tuna struggled against capture and I averted my gaze as Amador dealt with it. The tuna would be our lunch and dinner and possibly provide some protein for breakfast the next day. I was sorry to lose our cook once we hit dry land, but Katie and her men were our friends and Kimo and I would help Nohea stay strong, even if he looked like he was about to weaken.

Man, he had me tuned into him at the stroke of a fingertip and he grinned at me. Lopaka…I love you so much. I stared into his deep black eyes and wanted to fuck like bunnies in an instant. He was reading my mind again. Nohea laughed at something Amador said, his expression turning sour when he caught my gaze.

It was our turn for night watch on the pilothouse that night and I knew we would make it fun. Everything was fun for Kimo. There were chores to be done. The boat was running smoothly now that a slight mast problem had been fixed. We went back downstairs and I heard Nohea laughing at Amador again. I so badly wanted to talk to our babies, but the satellite was still down. I set about to cleaning up inside the boat, one of my duties, and Kimo settled down to poring over old maps Nohea had collected over the years, wonderful old maps with previous errors marked by navigators as the maps exchanged hands.

We had done well to travel incognito with a crew loyal to Nohea and his friends, to not attracting attention to ourselves. Our plan was to land in the Marquesas Islands, spend a couple of days re-stocking the boat, then head to the Cook Islands. Nohea stuck his head into the galley. He grunted, nuzzling my throat, his hand moving to the nice tent forming in my board shorts. Kimo and I traded glances and he inclined his head toward the map. His finger was on a spot on the map. He was pointing to the island of Nuku Hiva in the Marquesas group.

Thank God we are getting rid of him, Kimo telepathed to me. How rude! Kimo needed me that night. He paced the pilothouse until the others went to bed. Kimo lost no time getting my pireau off me and his hard, insistent cock into me as soon as I joined him on deck. He obviously felt it, too, and whispered in my ear.

Come with me, baby. I want to feel your hot juice on my belly. Come on, baby, show me how much you need my cock. I had never craved anybody the way I did him and when our mutual fire swamped our bodies, Kimo crowed with pleasure as I came all over his chest and belly, his own searing semen flooding my belly, soothing me, freeing me from mental torments. It was later that night when I awoke and could hear Baby Kimo crying. I should never have done this. We could have found a way.

His eyes were so haunted in the moonlight. I knew he struggled minute by minute with the weight of his decision. By unspoken agreement, we threw on clothes and went to the galley. Sleep eluded us for now. Kimo started boiling water for tea as I checked the computer again. Still down. I want to hear his laugh. I promise you that. I just…I just want to hold him. I want our family back. His screams were so intense, they seemed to fill the galley. I put my arms around my husband. I had an idea that both enthralled and terrified me.

I watched him turn inward, the way he always did in prayer and contemplation, or when he did one of his rare image-shifts. Kimo never changed shape, but he was able to transport himself great distances. I started to worry then. Kimo had been exhausted for a couple of days after that. It was too late to back out now. His image started to flicker, like moving pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and I feared now he might never reassemble whole.

His face turned to me and I saw the glimmer of joy, then the concern. And then, silence. The water boiled crazily on the stove and I turned it off. I waited for a sign, a sound…something and then Kimo came back. With Baby Kimo in his arms. He watched us for a moment as Baby Kimo and I slobbered over one another. Baby Kimo jerked his foot away.

He believed Kimo had taken me away from him. For a long time, I just stood, holding our son, letting him feel our love for him. He began to relax and when Kimo captured his foot again, this time, he did not resist. Clean here. He was drifting to sleep now and Kimo smiled at me. He smells like kisses.

Can you believe we brought him here? My father had no trouble walking away from me, but then being a grandparent had less responsibility than being a father. He looked thrilled. Fix his asthma? He nodded. Kimo gave me a wonderful, warm smile. I feel quite energized. The little man slumped to the floor. Just remind me in an hour to go give him another dose. I laughed and, balancing my toddler on my hip, wondered what he would like when he rose from his magical nap.

I want poi. I stared into those beautiful brown eyes and saw the laughter back in them as he reached up for a kiss. I prepared tuna, eggs and hash browns. The crew guys loved them when I chopped in peppers and a little cheese. We heard footsteps coming down to us and Nohea poked his head into the galley. Baby Kimo? Oh please, let me hold him. Nohea held the baby for a long time in his arms and begged to feed him. Baby Kimo was pretty handy with a fork and spoon, but he seemed to enjoy all the attention and pretty soon, the others came down to us.

Baby Kimo seemed very enthralled with Francois, the blond Australian, who poked his tongue out at him. Baby Kimo poked his tongue back at him and screamed with laughter. The coffee kept refilling itself and with it, whatever hocus pocus Kimo cooked up…Lord, I loved being married to a man with so many talents. Luis, the first mate, rolled oranges back and forth across the tabletop to Baby Kimo who delighted in this new game until I detected the odor of stinky diaper.

I brought cloth diapers. We found the diapers and one packet of wet wipes. In our cabin, Baby Kimo submitted to his diaper change and we put on a pireau around his waist, bringing up the sides and tucking them into the top of the diaper, creating a kind of pants outfit for him. He loved it. He was ready for action and sprang out of the room, thundering up to the deck, wild with laughter. Kimo and I followed him as he bounced around, laughing and dancing. Luis and Francois got a kick out of him and soon chased our son all over the boat. I knew exactly where he was every second because his squeals of laughter gave him away.

That evening, Kimo and I lounged on the aft deck, admiring the stars, Baby Kimo nestled between us, pooped out after a hard day of playing in the sun. We still had plenty of oranges and a few cans of apricots, which we all gobbled up right after our dinner of wahoo and canned beans and baked potatoes. In two days, we would arrive in Taiohoe Bay on the island of Nuku Hiva, the capital of the Marquesas and one of the largest islands in French Polynesia. We would spend a couple of days there and everybody had a wish list of food items. Ours included cabbage and strawberries. Baby Kimo sighed in his sleep, turning into me as the wind gently whipped at us.

I could smell oranges on his sweet breath. I think Madame Pele would let us know if something was wrong. Man does Katie look beautiful. There was a barking sound and her face looked troubled. Tutu nodded. Kimo sighed. She looked wonderful. I took a hand away from my sleeping son, my fingers touching the screen. They nevah seen us. She thinks they looking for us, but they see nothing. Okay, darling? The twins exchanged knowing looks and I wondered what their little minds were plotting.

The laptop battery seemed dead. How frustrating. The baby snuggled in our bed, close to me and I tried to stay awake, really I did, but I was asleep within minutes, my arms gratefully encircling my sweet, sturdy little boy. Something was wrong. Baby Kimo was asleep, his head burrowed into me, but Kimo had still not come to join us. Extricating myself from my child, I put pillows beside him and covered him gently, padding out of the cabin and closing the door, careful not to make any sound.

I knew Nohea was on duty tonight and soon found Kimo on the deck, sitting in a chair, staring out to sea, a stricken expression on his face. For me, there is no veil…no partition. I just see…holes that I can go through. Now, I see locked doors. Only in the South Seas, pireau were called lava-lavas. Kimo snapped. How can I relax? He can see everything going on out here, Mypaka. He was upset with himself and couldn't relax. This was a job for Super Slut. He allowed me to kiss him, but I was aware he was very uncomfortable and twisting around, checking to see if Nohea was watching, but I didn't care.

Let him watch me suck my handsome husband's cock. Kimo fell back on his deck chair and I slid my hands up his thighs, the soft fabric feeling silky against my skin. I slid my hands down and back up, my fingers massaging his thighs…I lunged for his cock with my tongue, licking sucking its length over the pireau. He moaned and said, "God help me," as I sucked the head through the soft fabric.

I knew he wanted to feel my mouth on his flesh. I pulled at the knot on his waist and he gasped when his cock sprang free, exposed to the night air. I licked it and he opened his legs to accommodate me.

The cannibal king

I keep licking the slit, the head, back to the shaft and I moved back to the slit again, my tongue lapping at it. Kimo groaned when I got some sweet, warm cream and I got serious now and my mouth pulled his cock—my cock—into it. I sucked him, pulling on him with my lips and tongue and his hands slapped down on the wooden arms of the deck chair…I knew he no longer cared if Nohea saw us. He needed relief. I release his cock so I could lick his balls and he snapped.

I kept massaging his thighs and his legs opened a little more as his cock thrust its way into my mouth I would have loved for Kimo to fuck me, but his hands gripped my head. I felt a flood of his emotions and knew it felt so good and so intense for him. I screamed, "Watch this! He bounced around, wanting every inch in my mouth and he let out a cry as his cock slipped down my throat where it belonged. Unbelievably, I could still breathe.

I pulled back and forth very, very fast. He was fucking my face, demanding I look at him. I glanced up, our eyes met and he thrust hard and fast into my mouth. His fingers stroked my lips and he came hard…so hard and it was all I could do to swallow all his juices, but I would never waste a drop.

I loved how he felt and tasted. Man, he was still coming. His hands were at my head again, but he was gentle…relaxed. He was at peace. The horrible, vacant silence that always accompanied his shifting state enveloped me. I heard a sound…a crackle and Kimo was back. Hanging from his neck like a monkey dangling from a tree was little Kamaha, an impish grin on his face, a suitcase in his hand. I think it put a bit of a strain on me. Our little caballero here was lying in bed, pretending to be asleep, but he was waiting for me.

He was fully dressed under the bed clothes, with his suitcase in his hands. I had to pack my essentials, Daddy. Essentials, from a six year old. I smothered a smile and held my sweet little nephew tighter. My baby son started wailing so I freed him from the cabin and his eyes blazed with joy when he saw Kamaha.

The two cousins, more like brothers, embraced. Typical Hawaiian boys with hearts full of love. Kimo looked as good as new when we returned to the galley. Kimo grinned. Monkey see, monkey do. Baby Kimo climbed on board next and then Kamaha was keen to show us what was inside his suitcase. She was a resourceful woman, Tutu. In Hawaii, she would have used ti leaves.

In Europe, she resorted to bay.

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My little boy clutched the book to his chest. She was going to be pissed when she saw they were gone. Tien-Lung already loves it here. Is that his name? And the best, most powerful Chinese dragon was TienLung. They moved to Japan and lost a toe, all that travel you know. All I got for my travels was a bloody nose. Kimo ran up to the deck with the laughing, squealing boys and I could hear him chasing them. I got started on breakfast.

I felt a slight tremor of fear, too. Our first sighting of Nuku Hiva seems like a cloud-fairy dream. The boys were beyond excited after a hard morning of playing on the deck, to see land in the far distance. We could see mountains, green as emeralds. As we came closer to land, the clear water revealed schools of tropical fish of every hue imaginable. We saw eels and dolphins and then Nohea wanted the boys to sit in the pilothouse with him as we approached Taiohae Bay. They were out of their skins with excitement, jumping up and down pointing out each new, tiny emerging detail.

Even the boys were over-awed by its raw, unmarred beauty. Kamaha nodded. He loved the versions of Moby Dick we taught the children. The emerald green cliffs guarded it to the tuneful sound of tranquil waterfalls. Baby Kimo sniffed.

Baby Kimo wanted to bring his book, which he had not put down since Kamaha gave it to him. Kamaha however, dithered over whether to bring his dragon, Tien-Lung. Kimo and I wore board shirts and tank tops, Kamaha wore his shorts and T-shirt. Baby Kimo was in a lava-lava and the boys ran up to the lava-infused sand whopping with joy.

The tiny, stone-stepped quay led to a platform and after a brisk walk, we saw the red-roofed helicopter pad and we could see the bank, a small hotel and a few stores selling fruit, vegetables and lava-lavas. Countless, crowing, wild roosters roamed the paved road. Kimo chuckled and put his arm around me. I forgot.

Just as soon as I take care of our little problem. Luis and Francois came toward us with a glassy-eyed Amador. We were in luck. We had plenty of British pounds left from our trip to London and Scotland. His nose wrinkled in confusion. We were all ecstatic to be at a sunny table with an appetizing menu none of us had to cook. Where is he taking Amador? He has a new job and he will soon forget all about us. I had to do some slight…behavior modification. It meant Kimo had received divine information about Amador. I shivered, in spite of the warm day.

Some local guys sporting extensive tattoos walked into the restaurant and I felt Kimo relaxing just a little. The man himself was almost entirely covered in tattoos and I wondered how he breathed. I wondered if he had the traditional triangle of unadorned skin on his lower back, a practice started by Polynesian tattoo artists to prevent breathing troubles later in life.

This is a practice many western tattooists have adopted for extreme tattoo fanatics. He and Kimo shook hands. He spoke beautiful French, slipping into English when he realized we were American. I glimpsed great loneliness in this man. He slipped Kimo his card, saying he lived across the bay if Kimo was interested in a genuine Marquesan tattoo.

Nohea soon joined us and he seemed, frankly relieved to be rid of Amador. He shook hands with our tattooed visitor who soon took off to ingratiate himself with two female tourists fiddling with their cameras at another table. Did you know the early missionaries banned it here? So much our own Hawaiian culture had also been banned by missionaries. Our music, our hula, language and our religion. I focused on my two little boys who were now eager to explore the dessert menu.

After lunch, we took a walk and Nohea told us both he and Luis wanted to spend the night on board the Hina. Francois had snapped up a gorgeous local girl and took off for the hills on her bicycle with his new companion perched on his lap. The children were impressed with her bicycle because she had wound a very fragrant lei of tiare flowers on the handlebars. We soon learned the smooth, paved road that was at the center of town was the only paved road. Many were nightmares to behold, but the cars we saw negotiating them seemed to handle them.

Nohea took us to the Keikahanui Inn, a combination hotel, restaurant and museum. Rose, the woman who owned and ran it, was enchanted by our boys who loved the two-bedroom bungalow she assigned to us. It was decorated with many Marquesan artifacts, which were similar to Hawaiian artifacts, but somehow more primal.

Rose showed us around, telling us the room came with dinner and breakfast and she offered us the chance to have a personal tour guide. We declined her offer. I knew Kimo wanted to explore the island his way. The writer, Robert Louis Stevenson, spent a lot of time here and of course, we have our own rich history. We loaded up on staples we needed, including a few lava-lavas for the boys, T-shirts and tank tops for them, a couple of pairs of shorts and then they both wanted to sip fresh coconut milk. The storekeeper punched quick holes into the two young, green coconuts they selected and popped drinking straws into them.

The boys were ecstatic. I watched their enjoyment of such a simple pleasure and kissed their dear little faces. Nohea wanted to return to the Hina with our perishables, saying he needed to give her a thorough inspection. He agreed to meet us at the hotel for dinner. The boys got a bit teary-eyed when he left us and he gave them long hugs. He missed his family desperately and I suspected being on the boat with the satphone and the computer were his lifelines to them. Kimo and I luxuriated in the time we now had with the boys.

Stone tiki gods peeped out from bushes and in various places that seemed to mark turn-offs. At last we found our boy and our boys lost no time running straight into the warm ocean water. Kimo joined them as I dropped our towels on the sand. Lopaka, trust me. I glanced at him and he held his hand out to me. I ran to the water, determined not to live in fear. The boys had a wonderful afternoon and then, a strange thing happened. A dark cloud passed across the sun. Kimo looked up and sighed. We dried them off and as if by unspoken agreement, Kimo held Kamaha in his arms and I held Baby Kimo.

I felt the temperature rise suddenly and realized Kimo was chanting. We walked away from the bay, toward the mountains. It was the oddest thing. A shaft of sunlight poked out from the sky, like a pointing finger. A car appeared on the bumpy road. All four of us climbed in and he drove off. The boys were quiet, but unafraid. They knew the magic in their lives and were now merely curious, I could tell as our journey deepened into a rainforest. Suddenly, Francois stopped. The heat in the car dropped as we climbed out. The boys picked out fish and birds and many, many turtles. We came up to a huge banyan tree and a huge, tree-root lined pit.

This is where the Taiohae kept their prisoners, fattening them up. Taiohae Bay takes its name for the tribe that once lived here, Kimo telepathed to me. They were a cannibal tribe. I opened, closed and opened my mouth again. He shook his head. I feel it. Pele is with us, guiding us. Kimo stopped suddenly. Baby Kimo held my hand as we walked into the museum and Kimo zeroed in on photographs of the Taiohae tribal king and queen. I studied the photos.

She was beautiful, more beautiful than any modern day movie star, with long hair, perfect features. I read a notice about how the very beautiful and heavily tattooed Queen Vaekehu, wife of the last king had dined with Robert Louis Stevenson and his wife, Fanny. She had, according to what I read, complained to them that she and her husband only ever ate their enemies and selected, sacrificial victims.

Their tribe had been wiped out by the same diseases that had killed native Hawaiians, western diseases that were brought by white strangers to their beautiful, savage islands. There were also slave raids, with the most strapping warriors stolen by blackbirders and taken across the world in chains. The images haunted me. I had no clue. I was entertaining my deepest, darkest fears and wild thoughts.

Cannibal Kings

He was King Mataafa of Samoa, the last of the Taiohae in the islands. He was as ugly as his wife was beautiful. I felt the wave of fear grip me and held my son a little bit closer to me. This freighter, the most famous in the South Seas, visits the islands year round, transporting both people and cargo. Kimo, Nohea and I took the boys down to watch the islanders perform at the impromptu celebrations. One young man even did his variation of the Marquesan Pig God Dance. The young dancer who had a few tattoos on his body, stripped down to his lava-lava and his performance was earthy and sexy.

‘Cannibal couple’ apparently pickled their last victim

He connects with the infinite in a way few people to. We all applauded, but our children were not impressed. We must not draw attention to ourselves. I caught his glance. He was being vigilant, watching the crowd for familiar faces. As we climbed the hill, we heard the sound of drunken laughter coming from the Aranui and turned to watch the wedding party, which had now moved back to the freighter.

One man was doing a very bad imitation of the Pig God dance, snorting and making fun of the Marquesan dancer who had performed the routine earlier. Kimo was enraged. The boys insisted on sleeping with us, not that Kimo and I were inclined to argue. We all fell into an instant deep sleep…until I was awakened by the weird sensation of something sticking up my nose. I opened my eyes to find two ferociouslooking eyes staring into mine. I almost laughed.

I clutched the plastic body of Tien-Ling and yanked his claw free. Kamaha was asleep, wedged between me, Baby Kimo and Kimo, his precious dinosaur in his little hands. He seemed pretty determined. It had fallen behind the headboard. We put fresh shorts on the boys who clung to us, halfasleep. We held them in our arms as we crossed the dark path to the main part of the hotel. There was a ton of activity. He looked surly and I felt very sorry for him. Kimo was pretty surly too having had to forego sex for one night since the boys insisted on sleeping with us, but poor Nohea had gone without it for weeks now.

We left the hotel and the chattering, crowing chickens ignited the pilot lights in our boys and they came to life, wanting to chase them. We kept our target in mind and dragged them down to the market. The array of local produce was amazing. Baby Kimo zeroed in on fresh strawberries and I distracted the boys as Nohea purchased several pounds of fresh chicken. All night long. Kimo always ensure nothing disrupts our sleep, save for our children climbing all over us, and I felt a little more guilty about poor Nohea. Up ahead, I saw a man clutching his throat. I thought I was turning into a pig!

My throat is on fire today. He was more feminine than I was and walked a little behind his husband. I understood who and what he was. He was a mahou, a man-wife, and he stared at me.

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He knew who I was, too, and I saw a flash of jealousy. I was wearing shorts, but he was dressed like a woman. I smiled at him, understanding him and felt in that moment a small insight into the feelings my father must have for his own husband. I wondered how subservient my father was to his husband and caught a glimpse of the subtle differences in cultural acceptance, even between islands.

I love you, Kimo telepathed to me and I smiled back at him. We grabbed all the fruit and vegetables we wanted and then I saw a beautiful island girl walking toward us. She wore a slip of a pale, sea foam-colored dress with tiny pink flowers on it. Nohea seemed transfixed. Kimo picked up our tiny son and bit into the strawberry, hoisting our toddler onto his empty shoulder. The coffee cart owner was a man with a delightful sense of humor and perfect French, comical English and he handed each of the boys a pain au chocolat.

Kimo and I bought all the pastries we could fit into our arms, paper cups of coffee for the adults and hot chocolate for the boys. She said something I knew was rude, though the sudden flap of crowing roosters meant I missed her actual words. Kimo looked as furious as I felt. No need to tell me, he telepathed. Tensions between Nohea and us were pretty bad until we set sail a couple of hours later. Luis and Francois came on board, looking the worse for wear. Francois took a cup of coffee and looked morose. He was a good-looking guy and I knew, tons of girlfriends. Yesterday afternoon, I was lying in a hammock, looking up at a perfect sky, in the middle of true paradise.

I have never felt so peaceful in my life. Sometimes people really did surprise me. Baby Kimo was soon back. Somebody had changed his diaper and put him back in a lavalava. You want some breakfast? I heard Francois laughing. I had no idea exactly what Kimo said to him, but as Nohea took some eggs and chicken onto his plate, I caught his worried glance a couple of times. I sensed he was trying to gauge my mood, but I wanted an apology and until I got one, I would focus on my boys.

I cleaned up the galley and everybody else prepared The Hina for departure. As we left the beautiful bay and headed back into deep waters, the children grew tired of waving at Nuku Hiva. Their burst of morning energy gave way to crankiness and I popped them into our bed.

It pained me that Nohea dismissed me as a mahou. To me, it was demeaning and cruel when he was a close friend. I was his partner in every way. I had been there for every second of it, holding her hand and kissing Kimo as he made love to her. I knew I would love the child they created, but never thought in a million years he would one day be mine. Kamaha allowed me to comb his thick, dark hair and the boys started arguing over which book I was going to read to them. But Kamaha loves his book, too. Baby Kimo gazed up at me and I started reading. As I tiptoed out of the room, Kimo was waiting for me.

He gave me a wonderful kiss. Ectoplasm, he telepathed to me. I am glad you can see it. It means your intuition is getting stronger. His hard cock grazed my thigh, igniting a mutual response in Kimo. I miss him so much. He laughed when I reached up and kissed him. He loved it when I kept a few tricks up my sleeve. It was only weeks, but so much had happened since then, it felt like months. We fell onto the sun-warmed bed and Kimo held me to him.

The air smelled so sweet. Tiny island flowers at our bedside filled our senses. In a subtle way…but they will change. They are religiously very rigid. You are my tribal wife…he will expect you to be a little more…subservient…it means I want you to fuck me every chance you get now because once we get there, I will be assuming a role. A role of supremacy. I kept my mind blank as I ripped off his lava-lava and stared down at his black boxer briefs. I swallowed hard.

The sight of that beautiful, huge, thick cock always turned me on. I bent down and put kisses all over the covered shaft and Kimo groaned. His skin was soft and warm and there was not an ounce of fat on his muscular frame. I am thinking after you experience its pleasures, we need to get one made for you. Your husband is about to give you an ass fucking you will never fucking forget. He opened his legs nice and wide and begged me to lick him. This had been my plan all along. Hot and beautifully dirty.

It was time for his treat. It was gold and silver and it was fashioned into a cobra. The head came halfway down to the tip of my cock and the ring fit oh so snugly around my balls and cock. Kimo gasped when he saw it. His eager fingers reached forward and touched it. I entered Kimo slowly and that tongue-like head massaged his perineum. I will never in my life forget the look on his face as he felt it on him.

King of the Cannibals

I fucked him and the cobra seemed to magically know all the right places to stroke him, to turn him on even more as my cock fought its way inside his sweet ass. I could tell he felt the impact of all these things being done to him. His very hard cock leaked fluid like crazy. The cobra swiveled again and the tongue-head moved to his ass hole, fighting me for access.

The combination of metal and skin seemed to inflame Kimo, who screamed for me to fuck him, his fingers on my shoulders. He was so close to coming and I was almost there too. The cobra sensed it too from our body heat. Another couple of thrusts and he roared to an orgasm, taking me along his high tide with him. I fell on him, pleased with my efforts, ecstatic with my new discovery. I am an idiot. At lunchtime, I popped them on the aft deck with Kimo, tucking a soft blanket around them as the day grew chilly. I propped them up with pillows and handed them plates with strips of chicken, baked asparagus and French fries.

I loved the sound of Kimo and the boys laughing and I found my heart twisting just a little for our other three babies back in Scotland. Francois readied himself to gut and clean the fish. The fish jerked back to life, flopping all over the deck. My toddler son was fearless in grabbing the huge fish and hurling him back overboard. Francois stared, slack-jawed. It was also the reason Kimo and I would never allow it. Kimo and I exchanged glances. I nodded. We climbed into the shower stall together, trying to stifle our giggles. Kimo found us easily, pulling the squealing boys into his arms and pretending to take them up to the deck to throw them overboard.

They had fun playing until a stricken Nohea came to the deck. Kimo put Kamaha onto the deck and I took charge of the boys. Nohea gripped the frame of the laptop. Kahanu sighed. I promise you. He just misses his daddy. And Kimo and I are going to make you one. Kamaha paused. Kamaha set about organizing his supplies. I think we have glue, too, if you kids want to stick badges or anything on those hats. I love hats. Kamaha glanced at him, an exasperated expression on his face. He stood just a little bit straighter and taller when he received it. In the evening, we sailed into a bad storm that seemed to invigorate him.

We continued for the next five days to the Cook Islands, the storm following us until two days before we were due to catch our first glimpse of land again with the island of Penrhyn. Our voyage became peaceful and beautiful, the sun shining hotly in a magnificent, cloud-free sky. Not that the kids thought it was bad. They loved the wind, thunder and rain and adored watching the men in their lives handling the boat and the ocean…the young men and the sea.

It was a wonderful afternoon, everybody enjoying the calm, blue water. Even Luis snapped out of his bad mood, until a whitetip shark spotted us. Sharks are our aumakua, our family guardians. Luis panicked and swam to the boat. Kimo began to chant and even Francois looked stunned as the shark swam up to Kimo, its trademark, rounded fins tipped in white. Whitetips are the most dangerous and aggressive sharks with man, above and beyond great white sharks. Our new visitor was very curious about Kimo, its fearsome mouth opening, revealing its jagged, uneven teeth.

Suddenly he rolled over like a dog, allowing Kimo to rub its belly. And we did. The shark rolled over again and the boys kept shouting Aloha! Francois seemed to be very unconcerned. We were almost out of chicken and Baby Kimo kept bringing our caught fish back to life, so I took the kids below deck as he landed a tuna. Kimo shrugged. Do I get a reward? Just like that? Thunder and lightning?

Harrouff reportedly told deputies, "Help me, I ate something bad" admitting it was "humans". He then pleaded with officers to kill him, saying: "shoot me now, I deserve to die. Police have told how when they arrived at the tragic couple's home, they found the accused sitting in his underwear making animal noises and biting John Stevens' face. According to police reports, the former college footballer had been acting strangely in the run up to the attack. His mother told police he claimed to have superpowers and thought there were demons in the house. Harrouff's father, Wade Harrouff , told investigators they had gone for a walk the afternoon before the killings and came across two turtle shells.

He said his son pulled out a knife and said something was going to happen. He said he convinced his son to put away the knife, which was later found near the victims. After a bizarre family meal at a nearby sports bar, where Harrouff tried to eat cooking oil, he walked the four miles to the couple's home. Nellie King, Harrouff's attorney, said Wednesday that her client is mentally ill.

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