Naked Portraits Pt. 13

Notes from the author:

Hello Literotica reader. I was able to track down the real people my characters, Nefertiti Ulamat and Dr. Nelly Ling were based on. And again I will remind all that my character names are totally made up. If there are real people out there with the same names it's just a coinsurance. Of course the existence of the real Nefertiti and Dr. Ling doesn't mean that the information I'm basing my story on is true, but it does make it a bit more intriguing. My friend on Maui has been reading the stories from the start and has taken it upon himself to track down some of the art pieces I've described. He thinks he's found the painting of Aly done in the style of Edward Manet. It's in the home of a doctor that lives in Haiku, Maui. He hasn't seen the painting himself, he saw it in a photograph from a party held at the doctor's house. He plans on making a visit to the doctor's home as soon as he can.

*****

Chapter 58 Came a Spider

My odd painting session with Li Hong swirling in my head as I parked Hawk's Bronco on the street at Aly's house. It was close to six and I was hungry. Aly said that her landlords were out of town and that we would have the big house. and more importantly, the POOL all to ourselves. I opened the front door of the big house and stepped into an elegant foyer. The living room was understated nineteen sixties Japanese modern with a cozy lived in feel. There were lots of books everywhere and an eclectic collection of art on the walls and shelves.

The delicious smell of grilled teriyaki chicken greeted me. Just under the prevailing smell of teriyaki was the delicate aroma of boiled white rice with a touch of sesame seed oil. The smells made me think of home. A rhythmic sound drew me to the professional stainless steel kitchen where I found Hawk chopping a monstrous Maui-Kula onion into thin slices. Scattered on the counter around him were bowls of goodies: black olives, tiny dill pickles, Spanish olives, sweet pickled ginger, hoi-sing sauce, carrot sticks, celery, sliced boiled eggs, lumpia, wasabi mustard and two dipping bowls of soy sauce. I sampled the soy sauces with a finger; one was teriyaki the other plain. I snatched up several pimento stuffed Spanish olives and popped them in my mouth one at a time.

"Everything looks good, Aly's out done herself," I said.

Hawk laughed with a mocking edge. "Aly had nothing to do with this," he said. " The chick's a disaster in the kitchen. Matt's the one that cooked this all up. The dude's king of the grill."

After sampling more of the pupus, I went out to the living room to the big sliding doors that opened onto the screened in pool deck. Matt stood at an ancient and well seasoned hibachi grill poking at sizzling chicken breasts. He wore brightly colored surfer jams and a light yellow t-shirt decorated with light green palm trees. With his long hair and beard he looked more like a hippy then the grunge out Midwesterner I first met almost a year ago. I slid the patio door open, walked up to my hippy chief and planted a hot long kiss on his mouth. He tasted of sweet teriyaki and beer.

"Mmm, you taste good haole boy. Where's Aly?"

"She's in the hothouse watering some plants. Hawk and I barred her from the kitchen. The girl can't stir, peel or chop to save her life."

From a plate heaped with cooked chicken, I pinched off a bit of meat. Matt slapped the back of my hand, but he was too late as I popped the morsel into my mouth. "Oh, that's ono," I said with the lusty enthusiasm.

I lit off in search of Aly. I crossed to the door of screen covered pool deck. I walked up the sloping backyard to the the hothouse following a path of decorative stone squares. I pulled the creaky spring-controlled door of the hothouse open and was immediately impressed at the size of the structure. The walls and ceiling were made of a double layer of black plastic screen stretched over PVC piping. Row upon row of plants, mostly orchids from what I could tell, filled the place, but I didn't see Aly anywhere inside. Spying a door to at the far end of the structure I headed for it.

The smell of damp rich dirt with an undercurrent of manure made me thing of the county fairs I so loved as a kid. The ones on Maui were the best I thought. Halfway across, the water misting system kicked in overhead showering the plants and me with atomized water. I yelp, picked up the pace and reached the rear door at a near run. By the time I got out, I was soaked to the skin. A little beyond the door, I saw Aly standing among a patch of banana trees weirdly staring into space. She wore cutoffs dirty with muddy hand prints and a dark blue bikini top, there was a perfectly shaped mud red hand print on her right thigh. I headed in her direction.

"STOP!" Aly called out. "Not another step!"

Baffled, I froze. Seconds later her warning became apparent for I found myself staring at the underside of a spider mere inches from my face. One more step and I would have blundered into its web spun between two banana trees. The spider was the size of an open hand; my skin crawled with ingrained arachnophobia.

"Is it poisonous?" I asked in a squeaky voice. Weirdly, mouthing those words created a strange mental vortex and the world seemed to swirl around me.

This was in my dream from the dream study! Fucking deja vu all over again!

"All spiders are poisonous," Aly said casually. She walked up and stood on the other side of the near invisible web with her face a few inches away from the creepy thing. On top of the feeling of deja vu, my painter's instinct kicked in and I blurred my eyes causing Aly's beautiful Asian face and the spider to become one. As I refocused my eyes, Aly puckered. She looked so much like Marilyn Monroe that it made me wonder if Marilyn had a little Korean in her. Then for a brief horrifying second I thought she was going to kiss the spider. She didn't though, and simply blew a small puff of air. Her breath smelled of wine and something sweet. A flash of adrenaline hissing through me like water on a hot grill. The spider reacted too and scurried at frightening speed to the edge of its web, leaped around a banana leaf and out of sight leaving Aly and I staring at each other on opposite sides of the web. A frown wrinkled her brow.

I dropped my gaze to her dark blue bikini top.

Victoria's Secret models have nothing on her I thought randomly.

"Don't wanna wreck it's house," Aly said as she dodged around a banana palm and came around to my side of the web. She gave me an odd look and said, "You're totally wet and I can see your nipples."

I looked down to see that she was right. My dark nipples were so clearly visible beneath the soaked white shirt and white bra that I may as well had been topless. A wave of shyness enveloped me, which was kind of stupid considering that this woman has seen me naked in ways too intimate for casual conversation. It took all my willpower not to cross my arms over my chest to cover up. To add to the awkward moment, my eyes kept involuntarily flickering down to her full breasts.

After a few seconds of embarrassing silence, Aly said, "You have plenty of stuff in my guest room. Go change."

I went to Aly's cottage and changed into fresh dry jeans, sports bra and a t-shirt. As I dressed, I thought, of my disjointed dream from Dr. Ling's dream study. I dreamed about Aly and that web!

I had done some reading on dreams. A common thing for people to do was impose reality onto the memory of their dreams. Was I doing that right now? But it was so freaky how much of the dream had come true. The big difference was that in the dream Aly and me had kissed. ... no wait ... I had kissed Betty not Aly. In the dream I had ASSUMED that Aly and I had kissed. Clearly, I haven't kissed anyone today except for Matt.

"You're imposing, girl," I said aloud as I headed to Aly's living room .

The deje vu feeling returned suddenly making my head spin. I sat heavily on the living room sofa. Shaken, I got up, found a pen and some paper and wrote down the experience. As of yet, I've kept my resent weird feelings to myself. Having freaky dreams that sometimes came true was one thing. These intense moments of ... whatever ... was something else. It made me look crazy. The last thing I wanted was the whole Honolulu University psych department looking at me through the lolo microscope. The little walk down to the big house allowed me to pull it together ... along with a big unhealthy dose of denial. At this point, denial was all I had and I was clinging to it.

In the kitchen, I spied Hawk stacking several pieces of grilled teriyaki chicken on a plate heaped with fragrant rice. That spoke volumes about Matt's cooking because Hawk usually stayed away from greasy fatty foods and would sometimes lecture Matt, Aly and I on our destructive eating habits.

"Busted eatin' the fat," I teased.

"I don't eat the skin," he said in his defense.

As he passed by, I pinched at a chicken thigh on his plate. It was cooked to a crispy blackened perfection and the skin came away easily. Dramatically, I raised the loose piece of fat dripping skin over my head and lowered it into my mouth. The crunch was sublime, the taste perfect.

"Ono," I said licking my grease smeared lips.

An expression of both disgust and pity played on Hawk's face. He opened the fridge and pulled out a Michelob, which I immediately took from him. He reached in for a second beer then did an exaggerated circle around me to stay out of my reach. I laughed. Horsing around with Hawk made the weird feelings recede even further to dim corners of my head.

With beer and food in hand, Hawk went to an open door just off the living room. In the living room, Aly lay stretched out on the sofa dressed in clean jeans and a t-shirt reading a textbook and munching on a drumstick.

"Hey," I said with a hint of nervousness at what she might be thinking after our odd little encounter in the banana patch.

She raised her hand with the piece of chicken in a casual salute. She seemed cool, thus proving that I was being over sensitive. My rumbling stomach pulled me in the direction of the food were I put together a plate that would make a sumo wrestler proud. With my grotesquely overloaded plate in hand, I peeped into the open door were Hawk sat on a plush little sofa in front of a grossly large flat screen TV. Playing on the TV was the pregame show for the football game. "Important game?" I asked.

"Gwen, this is for the conference championship. This is the game of the season," Hawk said.

I stared back blankly.

"If Honolulu wins we get a bowl berth," Hawk said adding graveness to the moment.

"Oh," I said with as little enthusiasm as possible.

He made a dismissive motion with his hand.

I left the room

"Communist!" he called after me.

I laughed and went to sit with Aly in the living room to eat my chicken and fixings.

Around mouthfuls, I expounded about the money wasted on college sports for men and how so many worthwhile humanities programs go under funded.

Without looking up from her reading, Aly raised her fist to show her solidarity but the half eaten drumstick in her hand belied her sincerity.

"Where's Matt?" I asked with a mouth full of chicken.

"On the pool deck writing the great American novel on my laptop," she said.

"You trust him to use it?" I asked. For a smart guy, Matt was notoriously stupid when it came to tech stuff like computers and cell phones.

"If he doesn't throw it into the pool, it should be okay," Aly said.

After putting a serious dent in my plate of food, I went out to the pool deck with a fresh beer in hand to check on Matt. I found him on a deck chair clacking away on the laptop. I sat down on the deck chair next to him; he didn't know I was there. After a long draw of beer, I said, "What you writing?"

He looked up startled.

"Um, stuff," he said looking oddly guilty about something. He spread his hands out on the keyboards. Whatever he was working on went away from the screen. "Did I lose it all?" he asked in a panicky voice.

I got up and looked at the computer screen.

"You just reduced it lolo," I said. "How have you gotten this far in life and not know the fundamentals of working a computer?" I clicked his reduced document to bring it back up. "I saw Aly's name on the screen and I asked, "What is this?"

"I've been writing about our sexual encounters," he said sheepishly. "I wasn't sure how you would feel about that. Every time I write something down it seems to upset you."

"I'm not THAT neurotic," I said.

He said nothing, which meant that he had a LOT to say.

"So what hot moment you working on now?" I asked,

"Today's encounter."

"Today?"

"We had sex," he said trying to sound casual.

"We? As in you and Aly?" I asked.

"All of us ... Hawk too," he said with a nervous edge.

"I have no trouble with that," I said. "Why are you so up tight about telling me?"

"Um ..."

"Never mind," I said letting him off the hook. I took the laptop from him. "I wanna read this. Go get me another beer."

"Could you save first? It's been ten pages. I'm not sure how to do that on this laptop," he said.

"You've written almost ten pages and not saved?" I asked in horror.

Matt shrugged and went to get my beer. With a shake of my head, I titled the document Fun with Aly, saved, and then started to read.

Chapter 59 Fun With Aly

By Matthew Anderson

I must have died and gone to heaven. Apparently, being kind to small animals and recycling was enough to get me in. Anyway, it was hard to imagine that the thing I had with Gwen and Hawk could get any better, but it sure did with the addition of tall, blonde, exotic, curvy, athletic, sexy and funny Alyson Reese.

Aly's landlords asked her to house sit so she invited us over to make a weekend of it. All this week the temperatures were in the high eighties and lazing at Aly's landlord's poolside sounded just fine.

Hawk and I went out of our way to shorten our day to get to Aly's as soon as we could. Aly had the day off and Hawk borrowed her car since he had lone his Bronco to Gwen. In the morning, Hawk dropped me off on campus and I spent the day at the library researching a paper for my postmodern writing class. After he was done teaching a surfing class at Ala Moana Beach Park, Hawk picked me up and we hit Aly's landlord's door seconds before noon.

Hawk punched the doorbell repeatedly. "Open up woman!" he called out. "The pool is calling me!"

Aly answered wearing gym shorts, a Nike t-shirt and flip-flops. She looked her usual fresh gorgeous self. She being blond and Asian never fails to turn me on. I couldn't help but notice how her breasts strained the limits of her t-shirt, seriously distorting the Nike logo. Hawk and I kissed one of her cheek in turn, then we threw off out footwear and made a beeline to the sliding doors that opened to the pool deck. Aly cleared her throat, Hawk and I stop in our hurried tracks, both of us skidding a few inched on the polished hard wood floor. We noticed for the first time that Aly held a clipboard in her hands and she handed each of us a piece of paper.

"That's a list of chores for each of you that needs doing before you hit the pool," she said.

My list came with a hand drawn map of the interior of the house. In the bottom left corner of the map was a color-coded key for each part of the house. Hawk and I compared colorful maps; his was of the back and front yard.

"Are these maps OCD of what?" Hawk said.

"I get the hothouse," Aly said ignoring Hawk. "We should all be done in an hour. Then it's pool party time." Aly led us to a utility room off the pool deck.

"I was led to believe that we were attending a weekend long pool party," Hawk gripped.

"Yeah," I added, "but in reality we were deviously lured into doing dirty work for someone else."

"Shut up you lazy ass haoles," Aly said as she handed me two watering cans.

"You haole too," Hawk complained.

"Gwen says that my Korean half trumps my haole blood," Aly said. "I can get full local status, but you pasty ass white boys are doomed as outsiders forever."

"What kine bull crap this," I mumbled in a passable local accent.

"Hawk, you will find hoses rolled up on wheels in the front and back yards," Aly said looking at her clipboard. "Follow your clearly stated instructions. Matt, here's a measuring cup, Brian and Oshi said that some plants in the house require specific amounts of water and plant food."

Brian and Oshi were the owners of the property. They were both Japanese in their late sixties and retired University professors. Their full names were Brian Tutsuku and Orin Oshita. Orin went by Oshi. The professors were lovers going back to the fifties. I had met the pair several times and had no idea that they were gay until Meka Okuda outted them a few weeks back.

I went through the house with my watering can and measuring cup looking for the plants on my map to administer to their need. The half dozen African violets in the washroom made me wish I were a botanist because the instructions for each plant were convoluted. I left the washroom positive that I had murdered all the the violets.

Done in the house, I went to look for the others via the screen covered pool deck then out the back fence to the back yard. Nobody was in the backyard so I headed up the hill to the hothouse. When I opened the squeaky screen door I was surprised to find that it was cooler inside. The structure was covered in a double layer of dark plastic screen that filtered out much of the sun's heat but allowed the light trade winds to flow through. A sudden light mist of water emitting from plastic jets in the ceiling infused the structure with mists of moisture. That felt absolutely heavenly.

About fifty feet away Aly stood at the center of the hothouse watering a plant that looked like it could burst out of the chest of a man in a science fiction movie. She wore a dark blue bikini that covered the bare minimum and all her exquisite exposed skin glistened from the water mist from overhead, her long blond hair hung limp in curly damp clumps. She saw me at the door; waved and walked my way. She looked like a character fight out of a James Bond movie. The crescendo to Paul McCartney's Live and Let Die blasted inside my head.

"Done inside?" she asked.

I didn't respond.

"You okay?" she asked with a perplexed look. Then she saw that my eyes were focused on her wet glistening cleavage. In a reasonable voice she said, "It was hot, this is cooler."

"I'll say," came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Hawk standing near door I had come in.

"Excuse me," Aly said pushing passed me, her bikini covered boobs made contact with my chest. She did the same to Hawk although she had plenty of clearance on either side of him. Hawk and I watched her scantly clad ass as she walked out of the hothouse. A smile bloomed on Hawk's face as he followed after Aly. I had grown to know that particular smile. Mirroring his smile, I followed too.

Outside the hothouse, we watched Aly putt away a water hose like it was the dance of seven veils. When she finished securing the hose, she pretended to be surprised that Hawk and I had been watching the whole time.

"Pool time," she said, dusting her hands off. She headed to the back gate that led to the pool adding an unwarranted swing to her retreating backside for our benefit. Hawk and I kept at her heals.

At pool side, she shucked her bikini top, posed for a spectacular second then dove into the water and swam to the center. She surfaced holding her bikini bottom in one hand and tossed it at our feet. "Get naked and get in," she said invitingly.

Hawk and I swiftly obeyed. Once naked, Hawk cannon balled in. But because of my lack of swimming ability, I walked over to the ladder on the shallow side and lowered myself into the water in a hesitant unmanly fashion.