ALOHA!!!

Hawaii Day 4: The "authentic" luau and the finalé. <g>

For the final night of the guys' and my trip out in the lush green (and rainbow laden) land of Hawaii, I wanted to do something special. At a luau, I wanted a girl to show the guys how to hula. Of course, she was to be topless, which the guys would've loved... but finding a girl on the island proved impossible. I tried many, but the girls who would appear topless were hung up on the fact that they couldn't really hula. The girls who could hula had no desire to appear topless. Oh well, the luau would proceed without them. <g>

As Caleb poured lighter fluid on the charcoal (ok, so it wasn't an authentic-authentic luau), it was raining... but it was sunny simultaneously. I remarked about it and Caleb enthused, "About 90 degrees outside, we're cooking, bonfire, rain, only in Hawaii baby, only in Hawaii!" <g>

A few minutes later, the guys put the chicken and ribs in the pit and argued among themselves about how they were to be cooked. I informed them that they were already pre-cooked. -- We were as knowledgeable about cooking in a pit lined with banana leaves as a monkey would be. Better safe than sick from eating raw meat. <g>

So, we left the food in the warm pit and got the grass skirts.
"Don't look. I'm changing," Duke feigned as he put his on. <G>

Indeed, Sonny had been "banished from the island" for fighting. Not actual physical fighting, but just sort of generally antagonizing everyone. After two days of it, I gave him a choice: he could either leave and fly back to the mainland that morning, receiving his entire pay, or he could go "on probation" and return after a day alone. If he returned and still caused problems, he'd be on the next flight out and only get half his pay. Letting him control his fate, he opted for the day alone.

So, the guys continued getting ready for the luau. Grass skirts all around.

Boston Paul and Caleb stood next to each other and improvised a dance akin to the ones done by native Hawaiians.

Duke looked quite cute in his grass skirt, too, but he was having nothing to do with the hula shenanigans. "I'm a judge," he said when I asked him why he was sitting by himself away from the guys.

But of course, what would an SCM hula be without dicks? Caleb wagged his always dangly cock through the grass and Boston Paul joined in. Brett's skirt was a little skimpy on the strands, so he didn't quite have to do anything for his cock to show through. Together, they were entirely the little show off bunch.

Shortly thereafter, the grass skirt dancing portion of the luau was complete and the limbo portion began. I'd added a squirt gun to keep it interesting. <g>

Checking on the food a bit later, we decided to wait for the return of Dean and Sonny and the guys passed the time by playing a game Boston Paul devised. In short, each person would guess if the next playing card was higher or lower. If he got it right, play continued. If he got it wrong, he had to do whatever was written on a piece of cardstock pulled at random from my lap.

The first wrong answer went to Duke. His task: "Peck on the lips the guy two guys to the right." <g>

It's probably worth pointing out that one of Duke's big quirks is that he will not kiss a guy. He'll rim him, but he won't kiss him; that looks too gay, according to Duke. <g>

So, the kiss was his card...

What happened? Well, ya gotta watch the video.

When the first game was over, Paul started coming up with other ideas, but only Caleb and he were playing. First up, a competition to see who could fit the most pieces of fruit in his mouth. Next, another card game where whoever had the lower card had to drink beer for the difference (in seconds) between his card and the other guy's... then mouth swapping fruit: one guy takes a red piece, one guy takes a yellow; they kiss to swap.

Poking each other with toothpicks, pulling fruit out of the other's ass cheeks, and biting each other's balls ("No fucking biting!"), Caleb and Paul were becoming increasingly drunk. <g>

Soon, it was completely dark and most of the guys were in various degrees of shit-faced-ness. As the guys showed their dicks around the campfire, I commented on them and did an informal ball size checking between Brett and Paul. <G>

A little later, Dean and Sonny arrived back from the city.
"Sonn-nay" Caleb yelled. "He's back from probation," I added.
"What do I gotta do to get on probation?" Boston Paul mused. <g>

After Dean and Sonny joined in the grass (and banana leaf) skirt activities, we all ate the charcoal pit prepared dinner.

Then began the final festivity of the night: Betsy (or "Boston Paul's girlfriend", or "Sherry", or "Betty" as she was alternately called. <g>)

I don't want to spoil the surprise, but suffice it to say that Boston Paul, who was about ten sheets to the wind at the time, emcee'd the event and his commentary had me laughing to the point of tears. "Oop, we haven't seen the twirl. The twirl's new. That's a point!"

"Ooh, her head. Her head's dead. He, he fucked her head. She's dead. Come on, Betty. Betsy, come on!" <G>

The next day, it was time for one last Hawaiian hurrah... in the grassy field.

Of course, the only way to know what all happens there in the grass is to watch the video, but I will tell you that Duke... well, no, I'll just show you this:

Look closely. Figure out which one is Sonny? If you watch the video, you'll see up close where his fingers go. I'll give ya a hint: It's the same place Caleb's dick goes. <g>

See it all up close... only at 2SCM.com.

Damn. I love my straight-guys-doing-not-so-straight-things™ job!
<G>