Hawaii, USA
Part 1

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The van was one of a motley range of used cars being offered for sale by tourists whose vacation was coming to a close. The unofficial Waikiki beach motor market was popular with backpackers and other travellers who wanted cheap transport. This was by far the cheapest available because you could sell it for pretty much what you paid for it at the end of your stay. And, in my case, the van would also serve as accommodation. It boasted a small fridge, gas cooker, double bed, cupboards, water tank, sink and a pop-up roof. Yes!

"$3000 and I'll throw in my sleeping bag, tent and all the pots and pans," the young owner offered.

I was tempted to ask him if he was part of the sleeping bag package, but prudence intervened. "Lemme just check a few things first." I tested the steering, suspension and tires for wear, then the engine for oil quality and leaks. Everything seemed to be in pretty good condition considering the vehicle's vintage. On the short test drive, the brakes, gearbox, clutch and electricals worked just fine. "You've got a deal," I smiled as I drove the van back to the starting point. "Just gimme ten minutes to cash some traveller's checks and I'll be back with the money."

It took me a little longer than I'd anticipated to return with the cash. I arrived as the owner was already talking to a young guy dressed only in baggy shorts, and whose body language suggested that he was a prospective buyer. No way was I going to miss out on this deal so I promptly informed the stranger that the van was no longer for sale. The words 'fuck off' were first to spring to mind but I managed instead to vocalize 'Sorry, dude. It's mine'. It was a good thing I did. He had the kind of surfer's build to seriously rearrange my face if he'd had a mind to.

"Yeah, so I heard," he lamented as he brushed his hair back with his hands. My eyes were instantly riveted to his two cosy armpits whose light brown skin contrasted with the dark tan of his meaty shoulders and deep, well-developed chest. "Too bad, man. It's a wicked van. Just what I was looking for." He was pretty wicked looking himself, and it seemed a shame that we should have met as mortal enemies instead of on friendlier terms. As the owner counted the money, I watched the kid walk away. He had one of those pronounced V-shaped torsos that ended in a pair of narrow hips whose ability to prevent a pair of shorts from defying gravity would forever remain a mystery.

Having to share the morning bathroom with half the United Nations wasn't one of the Youth Hostel's main attractions, but it was cheap accommodation Anyway, I thought to myself as I scraped my face with a blunt razor, I'd soon be out of here and on the road to adventure in my yellow Vee Dub. Suddenly, a familiar face appeared in the mirror next to me. It was the young stranger. We exchanged polite greetings. Nothing too friendly.

It wasn't until he'd spat the last of his mouthful of toothpaste into the basin that he spoke again. "$2500 was a cool price for that van, man. A fucking steal, actually."

I rinsed my razor under the tap and tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. "$2500?"

"Yeah, I was really pissed when you came back with the money. I thought it was mine for sure."

As I dressed in my room, I couldn't help thinking about the $2500. "Fuck! $500 down the gurgler! The owner must have seen me coming." I checked my face in the closet mirror to see if I had 'sucker' stamped across my forehead. "Why me?"

Half-way through my breakfast of cereal, toast and coffee in the hostel's communal kitchen I heard a voice behind me. "Mind if I sit here?"

"Go for it." It was the first time I'd seen the young stranger smile. He wore a sort of disarming, goofy grin that was actually very pleasant and infectious. His raised eyebrows caused him to appear in a constant state of cheerful surprise, while his straight, brown hair flopped lazily over his forehead and ears.

"So," he paused to swallow a mouthful of cornflakes, "this your first time here in Hawaii?"

"Yep. Yours?"

"Yup. I'm from San Diego."

"Sydney."

"You travelling alone?"

"Yep. You?"

"Yup yup." He swallowed another mouthful of breakfast and sent his eyebrows north. "Hey, you lookin' for some company?"

How the hell was I supposed to say no to those raised eyebrows and goofy grin? I visualized the word 'sucker' on my forehead again. Time to get smart, I thought. "Maybe."

"Tell you what, dude -- I'll pay for half the VW. We can split it when we sell it."

The sound of $1500 -- uh, $1250 was tempting. "Cool." We shook on it. "I'm B."

"Ron."

The last thing I expected on a volcanic island was a freeway, but there it was, stretching from Honolulu to Aiea then further north through the plateau that separated the two parallel mountain ranges on either side of Oahu; Waianae to the west and Koolau to the east. Our destination was the coastal town of Haleiwa which was the gateway to the northern beaches such as Kawailoa, Waimea and the world famous Sunset.

"I've never been at flower-picking speed before," Ron remarked with a cheeky wink as the VW kept falling behind faster traffic. "You sure you don't have this thing in reverse?"

"Shuddup."

The old bus wasn't the quickest thing on the road but it was hovering around 60 m.p.h. which was pretty cool. It felt strange, though, to be wielding a large, horizontal steering wheel while working a stick-shift that was a tad shorter than a flag pole. The van was much more like a truck than a car to drive, but it was way cool fun. Besides, I was enjoying the 'ninga-ninga-ninga-ninga' sound of the old air-cooled Vee Dub donk.

"Wanna beer?"

"You bet."

Ron slid his shirtless body through the gap between the two front seats and headed for the fridge. "This is the life, man," he grinned as he returned to the cabin with two coldies. "An on-board bar. Too fucking cool! Woohoo!"

The scenery was absolutely spectacular -- blues, yellows and greens squeezed straight out of a paint tube. Endless fields of bananas, corn, sugar cane, pineapples and forests of native palms punctuated by small villages and towns as the miles ninga-ninged by. In the distance, the majestic peaks of the mountains caressed the clear, azure summer sky -- some had patches of snow clinging to the higher reaches. If Adam and Eve had known about this place, they would have requisitioned an instant transfer from Eden.

"I hope those volcanoes don't decide to erupt," I observed.

"Don't worry about them, dude. My farts are worse," Ron laughed. "Hey, let's pull over and find a cool place to check out. Besides, I need a piss."

I followed a narrow, dirt road just off the highway and parked the van in a small clearing at the edge of a patch of lush, tropical rain forest. I exited through the side sliding-door and grabbed another two beers from the fridge while Ron jumped from the front. His bare feet had only just hit the ground when he flopped out his thick, cut dick and put his hands on his hips. Within a second, a long stream of piss jetted from his knob and splashed on the emerald grass just a few feet away. "Thanks for the beer, man." He reached over and took it from my extended hand, still pissing just as casual as you like. He popped the can, raised it to his lips and swallowed a mouthful. "Yeah, this is the life." I couldn't believe that he was drinking a beer, talking and peeing all at the same time without a hint of embarrassment. Not that I minded, of course. Jeez! His soft six inches was totally awe inspiring, not to mention the rest of his body. His biceps, pecs and lats rippled and bulged with every gesture. His body was a symphony of muscular movement. "Don't tell me this is the first time you've seen a guy piss," he laughed as he noticed me gawking.

"Huh? Oh! No, of course not. I've seen tons." Yikes! What had I just said?!?! "I mean, I don't go looking deliberately if that's what you mean ... but, you know ..." My brain had taken a sudden vacation.

"Well, man, I hope you don't mind, but this is my time off and I'm gonna let loose." He shook the last few drops from his cock but left it hanging out of his shorts. "Hey, try it! Take a piss in the breeze like it don't matter none. Unwind, B. This is Aloha country. Be cool."

I did as he asked and tried to appear relaxed. That wasn't easy since I felt kind of foolish. My bladder took what seemed like forever before it finally consented to function. My feeble attempt began as a pathetic trickle before it became more respectable. Fortunately, Ron didn't pay much attention to my initiation into his 'Unwind' club -- he chose instead to wander around and check out the local scenery. I could hardly wait to put my dick back where it was safe from any further potential scrutiny.

During the rest of the trip to Haleiwa, my crazy new friend insisted on leaving his cock sticking out of his shorts. "Man, this is totally rad. I've never been in a Vee Dub with my dick out before. It's making me damn hot! Just be careful which knob you grab next time you change gears, dude." His dick was as hard as a rock and it took every fibre of my will power to concentrate on driving. When I did manage a quick glance at his throbber, it was standing straight up. It's big, round head was sculptured to perfection. The urge to pull over and eat it was almost overwhelming. But was he gay? He didn't act or appear to be gay -- his behaviour seemed to me to be more of a boyish prank than anything homosexual. "Sorry about the boner, B, but riding in the van with my cock out is making me fucking horny."

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed."

"Don't gimme that shit. Why don't you get yours out? It's way cool fun."

"We're almost there, man," I said with a feeling of relief as we neared our destination. "You'd better put that thing back, mate. That's if you can find enough fucking spare room in your shorts."

I parked the van near the Haleiwa Surf Centre at Alii Beach Park where we got a few maps and checked out the local conditions. The staff were very friendly and immediately recognized my Aussie accent. "G'day, mate," they laughed. "Aloha, mate," I replied. It was amazing to see that they provided surfboards, boogie boards and snorkelling gear free for public use. Hey, this was one friendly town.

"Any big waves around?" Ron asked, puffing out his magnificent chest and looking important.

"Waimea Bay's got a ripple around twenty to thirty feet," laughed a huge Hawaiin dude standing nearby.

"Cool! What do you ride it with? An aircraft carrier?"

"What about keiki?" I asked.

"Sure, plenty of places for keiki," the big warrior smiled, knowingly.

At Pupukea Foodland we grabbed some lunch before heading off to find a suitable place to set up camp with our Yellow 'house'. We found a nice grassy area dotted with a few tall palms at the end of the beach, then parked the van and pitched the tent which was purpose-built to attach to the side of the VW. Home sweet home was soon ours. A wonderful feeling of belonging to this place came over me as I stood back to admire our new breach-front accommodation.

"Hey, B, did you see those Brazilian chicks at that food plaza? Fuck, man, they looked so fucking hot in those tiny bikinis!"

I pretended to adjust one of the ropes on the tent. "Yeah."

"You don't sound too enthusiastic, man."

"Tired, I guess." After his comment about the girls, I was certain that Ron was straight. Oh well, he was a nice guy, I thought, and good company so it didn't really matter. "I'm gonna catch forty winks, mate."

"K, well I'm gonna catch a few waves." He opened the hatch at the rear of the van and grabbed his board. "See you in a few hours." He stopped after a few paces and turned around. "Hey, what was that keiki shit you were talking about with the big Hawaiin guy?"

"Keiki is Hawaiian for children. I like my waves small." Actually, anything higher than an inch frightened the shit out of me, but this wasn't the time or place to discuss my hydrophobia. I watched Ron leap through the shore break, kneel on his board and paddle out. He subbed a few waves and, finally, morphed into one of dozens of small, unrecognizable figures out the back sitting on their boards and waiting for the right set to arrive. I rolled a Dr. Pat, cracked a coldie and sat on the grass in front of the tent to watch the surfers do their incredible thing. I was convinced that they were special human beings -- sea gods -- people who possessed a special affinity with nature. It was as though the waves and the surfers were playing a game with each other and that, somehow, there was a communication between the humans and the water that mere mortals like myself would never quite understand. Appreciate, yes. Understand, no.

As I puffed on my rollie and sipped on my beer, I thought about how, earlier in the day, Ron had stood just a few feet away from me and pissed like it was just so natural. Well, it was natural, but society tended to frown on habits that deviated too far from conformity. If he'd held his dick, maybe I wouldn't have been so flabbergasted. It was the way he stood there as cool as anything, one hand wrapped around a beer, the other resting on his hip, with his dick floating in the breeze while he pissed. It was an awesome sight -- the epitome of nonchalance -- and one I was sure I'd never forget. This kid had attitude, big time.

"B! Wake up!" Cold salt water rained down on me from Ron's muscular body as he stood above me on the grass. His wet, brown chest heaved and his stomach flattened with every breath of much needed air. Every muscle was taut and solid. He'd obviously used up almost all of his energy surfing. "Hey, man, it was totally fucking awesome out there!" he gasped, dropping his board on the grass. "It rocked big time! Whoa!"

"What time is it?"

"What fucking time is it? Hey! I've just ridden the most fantastic waves in the fucking history of surfing and all you can say is what fucking time is it? I don't fucking believe this!" He ran his hands through his hair in a gesture of frustration, then stood directly above me and shook all the water from his body onto mine. "Wake up you dumbass Aussie!"

Something in my brain recognized an opportunity. "Make me."

Ron sat on my chest and pinned my arms to the ground with his hands. "Wakey, wakey, dude or I'll piss on you."

Was he serious? My stomach became instantly alive with nervous excitement. "Bullshit."

"Oh? So, you don't believe me?" He took his right hand away from my arm, reached into his board shorts and produced his dick. "It's shower time, dude."

As much as I was tempted to have him drown me in his yellow flood, I couldn't risk just laying there and accepting it like some submissive wuss. I had to offer some resistance. "You do, mate, and you're dead meat." My words sounded so convincing, I actually alarmed myself.

"Hey, chill, dude," he laughed as he stood up. "I was only kidding, man. Besides, I already pissed in the surf."

Our dinner wasn't exactly gourmet, but it was unbeatable in terms of atmosphere. The setting sun, the sound of the surf and seagulls, the cooling sea breeze, the space -- the endless, magnificent, mindblowing space. I used the metal tongs to turn the sizzling sausages in the pan on the gas stove and sprinkle them with another generous dose of freshly ground pepper. Damn, they smelt good! "Time to slice the onions, pineapple and tomatoes, Ron."

"Shit," he joked, "how come I'm the one who has to do all the fucking hard stuff?"

Once the sausages were done, I used the fat to lightly fry the onions, pineapple and tomatoes, then piled all the food on to a couple of plates. "Dinner is served, dickhead."

We sat on the grass, cross-legged, and devoured our meal with gusto.

"Man, this is the best food I've ever tasted. You're a fucking ace cook, B."

It wasn't the food or my cooking. It was the ambience -- being a part of this awesome tropical paradise. It was also the company. I could sense that Ron and I were becoming good mates, almost as though we'd known each other for years. When he chewed his food and smiled at me, it was a warm, special smile -- a signal that he was glad to be with me on this fantastic island. When he'd washed the last of his meal down with a swig of beer, he told me something I'd never ever forget.

"Hey, B, I gotta tell you this, and I hope I can make you understand. This afternoon when I was out there catching barrels, there was this one - I'm gonna remember it for a long time. Another guy and me were surfing and this massive set came through. We were paddling like crazy to make sure we didn't get nailed." Ron gazed at the ocean for a moment, then resumed his story. "This one wave came through and the guy turned to me and said 'hey, dude, catch it or you're gonna get drilled'. All I could see in front of me was this huge wall of water just building up over my head. I could see the guy paddling to get over the shoulder, and I knew that he was right about getting drilled 'cause there was no way I was gonna sub deep enough for it not to pull me down. You with me so far?"

"I think so." Actually, I was more entranced by the expression of sheer delight on his beautiful face as he re-lived the event than I was with his actual words.

"So I turned in time and felt it lift me up. I pushed down on my stick and stood up right away, then put some weight down on my front foot -- my left one cos I ride natural -- and then I felt the drop. Whoa! I'm talkin' Niagra here! I turned halfway down the wave 'cause I could feel the lip more than see it over my head. It was a fucking mutha, man. I could've ridden over the back then, cos I had so much damn speed, but I was so fucking amped... hey, what are you laughing at?"

"Amped." Beer dribbled down my chin while I choked.

"Well, I was fucking amped, man, 'cause it was so big and so fast, and then I saw it peaking in front of me and I knew I was gonna get nailed to hell and gone. I pushed and went in under the lip. It was like being in the middle of a hurricane -- the wind was loud and the sound of the wave was loud and then suddenly everything went dead quiet -- just the soft whooshing sound of my board. Hey, B, are you with me? I was in the green room!"

He stood up and planted his feet on the ground as though he was standing on his board. "The fucking green room, man! I was in it! I was surrounded by this huge tunnel of water and it was way awesome. It couldn't have lasted for more than a few seconds but it felt like ages, like a time warp that telescopes seconds into minutes. And you know what happened? I got this huge lump in my throat and wished that you were with me to see it." He studied my eyes for a moment to make sure that what he'd just said had sunk in. "Then it closed out and put me into the washing machine. When I came out, the other guy was screaming at the top of his voice. He raved! I told him it was better than any wave I'd ever caught before. Damn, it was weird." He took another swig of beer and gazed at the fading light on the horizon. "Y'know, B, I don't know how much surfing you've done, but if you rap with the guys -- the ones who catch a lot of barrels -- there's always one that seems more special than any other -- that was it for me."

Ron became quite emotional when he uttered those final few words. It was obvious to me that his experience in the green room was something profound, even unique. He watched the darkening surf for a minute before turning back to face me. "Well? What are you thinking?"

"If I told you, you'd think I was a dork."

"Tell me."

"It begins with 'h'."

"Don't gimme that shit, B. Tell me what you're thinking."

"No."

Ron placed his beer on the grass, dove on top of me and wrestled me to the ground. I was laughing too much to put up anything but token resistance. He sat on my chest, reached down to his fly and took out his dick. "Tell me, B, or you know what's gonna happen. And I'm bustin'." His goofy grin spread from ear to ear.

How I wished he'd go ahead and piss on me but I couldn't risk his thinking that I was some kind of kinky dork. I had to answer his question. "Hero."

"What?"

"You're a hero. When you were telling me about that wave, I couldn't help thinking that you were a hero."

He stood up, grabbed his beer and stepped to one side of me. "Hey, B, I ain't no hero. I'm just a regular guy. I piss just like the next dude." With that, his piss streamed from his cock and splashed on the grass just a foot or two from where I was laying. I felt a few drops hit my skin but I didn't move. I watched him finish and shake the remaining drips from his thick semi before he put it away. I didn't -- or, more correctly, couldn't -- make any secret of the fact that I was gawking at him. "You got a girl friend, B?" He made the question seem pretty casual, but I knew what he was getting at.

"No. You?"

"Did have. We split up. That's why I'm here." He crossed to the other side of me and sat on the dry grass. "I needed to get away from all the emotional shit."

"You took it hard, huh?"

"Not me, her. She broke up pretty bad when I called it off. Anyway, let's not talk about it."

I rolled onto my side and supported my head with my hand. "I still think you're a hero."

"You're easily fucking pleased, B," he laughed. "You ever ride a board?"

"Nah, I'm not a strong enough swimmer. I've body surfed a bit, though. Places like Bondi and Manly in Sydney, and up north at Byron Bay and the Gold Coast."

"I heard there's some good surf around here for long boards. You can hitch a ride with me tomorrow and I'll show you the green room."

The next few hours under the stars went by very quickly as we chatted and laughed and listened to music on the VW radio. Ron was excellent company and I felt totally at ease with him. I didn't mention the hero business any more. I figured it might lead to an awkward situation, so the conversation was kept light and bright. At about 10 pm, Ron emptied the van of all our gear and placed it in the tent, then unfolded the double bed. It was curious behaviour because a lot of the stuff could have easily stayed in the van.

"Mind if I sleep on the bed with you?" he asked. "There's no room in the tent now."

"It's half your van, mate. No prob. So long as you don't fart or snore."

"Don't worry about the farts, B, they're hero farts so they don't stink," he laughed. I cracked up too.

It was a warm night so we both slept naked. Well, I wasn't sleeping. There was too much going on in my head. I couldn't stop thinking about being next to this awesome, bronzed god and his perfectly toned physique. Visions of his beautiful, thick meat just hanging lazily in the breeze and pissing kept invading my mind, as well as images of his boner sticking out of his shorts as we drove along the highway. I was laying on my left side with my back to him, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. My dick was rock hard. I was desperate to jack off but I couldn't. I'd only wake him and freak him out big time. Damn! This was fucking torture of the most inhumane and cruel kind!

Suddenly, I felt his body move. His arm was draped over my shoulder. His hand was just a few inches from my face. I wanted to hold it and pull him closer but I resisted. After a few minutes, he shifted again. Something hard was pressing against my butt. It had to be his dick. It was hot and solid. The urge to raise my leg and let his throbber slide inside me was too much. I inched my ass closer to his boner and casually moved my leg as if I were simply tossing in my sleep. If my ass could have spoken at that point, it would have begged to be fucked. I could hardly believe the electricity that was surging through my whole body, and the intensity of the feeling around my asshole.

With any luck, I rationalized, Ron would be dreaming of fucking his girlfriend. He would be asleep and fuck me instead. So, it would be an accident. It wouldn't be his fault. Cool! How I would explain having slept through his fucking my lights out would be a tad difficult the next morning but, hey, I could worry about that later. Right now, I wanted him inside me soooo damn bad.

"Hey, B."

My God! He was awake! He was gonna kill me! I tried to sound half-asleep. "Yeah?"

"Sorry, man, but I'm as horny as fucking hell."

I couldn't believe my luck! Yes! No time to waste! Seize the moment! "Me too." I raised my leg and felt the head of his monster press against my hole. I relaxed as much as I could, despite my excitement, and allowed him in. Whoa! My ass was so fucking full! "Take it easy for a minute, mate. Gimme time to get used to it." He slid his arm under mine and stroked my chest while his face was buried in the crook of my neck. I could feel him kissing and biting me as he slowly increased his pelvic rhythm. His chest was hard up against my back, and his right leg was tossed over my hip. I was his -- all his. I was hoping that this incredible magic would last forever.

It didn't last forever, but when it was about to climax, he bit my neck and made primal snorting noises as his breathing became frantic. His pelvis pumped my ass so hard I flopped around like a rag doll, but a happy one. His pleasure was my pleasure, his ecstasy was my ecstasy.

"Oh, fuck!" he groaned as he filled my ass with his hot juice, then sank his teeth into my neck. His hand squeezed my pec so hard I thought he was gonna rip it off. Finally, his passion subsided with the last of his sticky load. He licked my ear. "Sorry, man," he sighed. "I just couldn't help it."

"That was a helluva green room, Ron. Fucking awesome!"

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