Al & Kent’s Hawaiian Adventure

The idea had been planted when we got there.  “Seriously, take any of the cars; anytime.  The keys are always in them in the garage.  The only rule of the house is no visitors without letting us know in advance.”

We knew our close friends who were hosting us in their palatial estate in Hawaii well enough to know they’re security freaks; to the point of obsession for one of them.  We also knew they were active in playing with other guys and had been the ones who inspired my husband Kent and me to try it; I admit that we’d more than made up for lost time in the three years since.  So Bill’s “visitors” was a pointed reference that when added to their generous offer of the use of any of their rather amazing cars set the plan in motion.  Certainly that was Bill’s intent.

Our trip had been spur-of-the-moment.  Our friend Chuck had invited us in an attempt to quell his husband Bill’s ill mood after a bad knee injury and surgery.  Bill’s physical restrictions as he recovered had him surly and gloomy; as Chuck said it wasn’t a good place for his always intense retired marine husband to be.

It was an invitation we couldn’t refuse; though not for reasons of being in paradise in the lap of luxury.  Three years before when we’d been in a catastrophic car accident not far from them when they lived on the mid-Atlantic coast they’d taken in Kent and our dog Sasha for the duration of what seemed like my interminable incarceration in the hospital.  It was COVID lockdown and visitors couldn’t come to the hospital; except for the four times I was thought to not make it and Kent was allowed briefly into the ICU.  Without Chuck and Bill’s hospitality and care he might have not held it together through my three heart surgeries during that three-month hospital stay.  With their request for support now there was no way we wouldn’t go to them now living in Hawaii; even if they were hardly in the straits we’d been and we couldn’t come close to doing for them what they’d done for us.

We’d been there to Hawaii a year before; another gift then of our tickets and a luxurious place to stay courtesy of my former employer as appreciation for my brief emergence from retirement to do a consulting job for them.  Their condo in Waikiki was something out of the original Hawaii Five-O which sparked me to introduce that original series I’d watched so many reruns of to my younger husband.  Side note: Kent had somehow developed a fetish for the original Steve McGarrett and flattered me by telling me I resembled him; that had played-out very satisfyingly in numerous role-plays no matter my unworthiness for the comparison.

We’d missed seeing Chuck and Bill’s “digs” that trip as they’d been on a month-long trip to Australia when our gifted trip happened; but they’d flown back from Australia one day like it was a drive from one county to another; they took us to a fabulous dinner before they flew back and resumed their vacation.  Yeah they’re that rich; it was their jet that brought them halfway up the Pacific to “grab some dinner”.  And their home in Honolulu is commensurately lavish.

Although Chuck and Bill are the hottest men we’ve ever met we’ve never been play-mates; it would almost be incest given the depth of our friendship.  The sexual tension we might feel though was accentuated by their clothing-optional lifestyle; which was both perfect for us because we’re naked at home most of the time and also a challenge given their super-hero or porn star physiques and temptation.  Thus we had no real option when opportunity arose and we could blow-off some … steam.

“Oh wow remember that hot ginger guy on Insta we’ve had messages with?  He wants to meet-up!” Kent told me excitedly.

I didn’t know which hot ginger guy on Instagram Kent was referring to; we share an appreciation for well-constructed redheads so there were many.  I also didn’t know it was a guy who lives in Hawaii and we were talking right then when he first mentioned it; it was the wee hours.

Even though we were three days into our stay our jet-lag adaptation was going the wrong way.  The conversation in question was occurring hours after midnight as we were wide awake despite having nearly been worn to a nub the now-prior day by joining Chuck for his usual day’s physical activities; Billy encouraged us but was unhappy to be sitting out.  I was just proud to keep-up for the dawn run, swimming laps for an hour, boxing (fun!), biking, and Crossfit; Kent even tried the daily surfing while I ogled him, then, and other hotties from the beach.  While my fit fifty-three-year-old body loved it I was also exhausted and crashed hard after dinner; so had my younger husband.  Now in the starlight outside our beautiful guest “cottage” (as big as our own home in Florida; it even has its own private pool!) with the surf as a sound-track Kent went on.

“They keep reminding us we can borrow a car to use; it’s less complicated than getting in/out of the property with an Uber.  They said the gates are on sensors to the cars and we don’t even have to find a button to push; worst case we have the code if we had to park the car outside when we come back and walk in.  Here look at this stud’s photos he sent by way of invitation.”  Kent was keyed-up and I knew this was on.

The penny dropped; this ginger stud he was referring to was here in Hawaii and was down to play.  And the photos of a chiseled body with the Viking look to it complete with a dick of death to rival Thor’s hammer backed-up my deduction.  “Uh … wow?” I reacted.  “I’m assuming he’s only seen pics of you; not your aging horribly disfigured hubby?”

Kent shot me his threatening/disappointed look.  “STOP!” he ordered.  He was always on me about my self-consciousness about both my “racing stripe” scar from the multiple heart surgeries and from my insecurity about having a young hunk for a husband when I’m about to pass to mid-fifties.

He held my look with intensity until I gestured surrender.  “Sorry.  It’s just … “  I stopped when his look turned menacing again.  “Sorry,” I repeated.

Kent turned the phone screen again toward me and showed me the pics he’d sent the horny ginger; full-frontal and actually other than my scars pretty damn good if I said so myself.  The Ginger’s responses were enthusiastic, specific, and directed to both of us.

“He’s here?” I asked in a lame attempt to deflect from my transgression of self-deprecation.

Kent showed me his phone’s navigation where he’d already plotted the route after the ginger stud sent the pin with his address; thirteen minutes northeast.  “I’d say we Uber but like I said we’d have to hike out to the road because I don’t remember all the wacko protocol to ‘clear’ (they were his fingers doing quotes in the air) visitors,” he said with a smile.  Good sign he wasn’t going to pursue my self-esteem slip.

We took the least of the extravagant cars among the thirteen in the garage; a pristine black electric Cadillac SUV that seemed like it could use some love among the exotic sports cars, a Bentley SUV and Bill’s prized vintage Bentley convertible. We made our way silently courtesy of the EV what seemed like the mile to the gates to our friends’ property.  “I have no clue how we open the gate,” I said in a momentary panic forgetting that Kent had reminded me of the elaborate electronics that were everywhere on the estate.  Before us as we slowed the gate opened without us trying buttons; of course they did my mind raced as it caught-up!  I’ll plead jet lag for not remembering.  Their whole property was one huge mangle of complex electronics; in fact their home in Maryland had been the same as I recalled when my brain caught-up.

The mid-morning after our venture we’d resumed shared activity with our hosts at the swimming portion of the program.  We’d both slept-in and missed the dawn run up the mountain that day; thank god!

“So you know the rules; you go out for a hook-up you share all the dirty details,” Bill was saying as he reclined naked on a plush cushion on one of the hundred or so teak lounges in the morning sun (an exaggeration but a slight one).

Of course he knew.  It didn’t feel like it the entire estate was closely monitored but it was; his obsession with security and privacy was the exception to his “normal guy” demeanor.  “Maybe we just went for a drive,” I offered.  “That Lyric is one sweet ride!  You know after twenty years of working for Mercedes I’m biased; but that Cadillac easily competes with the EQE or EQS even.  The deceleration drag is even moderated like the EQE and EQS; is that a setting you chose?  Because the deceleration charge setting is now in the EQE EQS classes.”

Bill looked at me indulgently.  “Car talk is his bag,” he said gesturing to Chuck who was dripping on the far side of their double-chaise after finishing his hour of laps.  Now back to the hot wee hours ginger fuck.”

For a moment I panicked and was almost enraged at once; how intrusive could their security and his prying be to know WHO we’d played with?  “Did I miss the part where you had us implanted with trackers and body cams?” I asked sarcastically.  “If mine’s up my ass you had a great view of his big cut dick HEAD-on,” I continued.  Yup I’d let that Viking beast fuck me while Kent did the same to the furred ginger hole.

“We’ll get back to Patrick Carnes fucking you in a moment,” Bill said and then raised his hand when I made a big gasp and started to protest his knowing the guy’s name; we didn’t even know his last name.  “Please; he’s all the fuck over social media,” Bill said with disdain; they were “air-gapped” from such things.  “The cars’ trackers are interfaced to the security system.  The program automatically tracks location attributes.  There are eight apartments in that building.  There are four hot guys; actually not a bad ratio; but it’s Kaneohe so a high propensity for the resident to be a marine!” he observed with a glance to his husband who had an indulgent smile and subtly shook his head.  “One is away on leave on the mainland and hasn’t AirBnB’d his place and two are VERY straight.  Now back to your fuck-fest with the odd squid out!”

My mouth was hanging open.  “Is your mouth gaping as an indication of the first act of your sexcapade?” Bill asked.

Kent guffawed.  “You guys haven’t changed,” he said with no small amount of love in it.

“HE hasn’t changed,” Chuck interjected casually.

“By coincidence since you mentioned it,” Kent continued, “Patrick the ex-navy guy was eager to suck both of us.”

“NOW we’re getting somewhere!” Bill said with a clap of his hand and a sudden raise of his torso which included some movement of his legs.  The latter brought a wince from his recovering knee.

“Babe!” Chuck said and put his big hand on Bill’s muscular hairy chest as if to hold him in place.

“I FUCKING KNOW!” Bill snapped.  THERE was the sharp edge of his mood as the usually-Ironman type life he led continued to be interrupted by his knee.  “More salacious details please; it helps with the pain,” he said with completely faked frailty.

We laughed.  And I told them all about it.

We’d gotten there and Patrick let us in wearing only a pair of very flattering  grey boxer-briefs; they were soaked with sweat down to his prominent pouch and his body glistened off it.  We’d had the obligatory chat trade about health status and PrEP and all was a GO; then he’d said he’d shower while we were on our way.  Some more chat revealed that he’d showered “completely” earlier but then couldn’t sleep and did ten miles (!) on his treadmill; we politely requested he save the sweat.  Already accommodating he offered to return to the machine to keep his sweat up until we got there.  Hot damn!

Tall and very built, ruggedly handsome, lightly hairy with that wetness and sheen from his perspiration, and promisingly bulging; his chiseled chest was heaving just enough from the exertion.  We actually didn’t know his name until we left afterward; “I’m Patrick by the way,” he’d offered just as we’d passed out his front door.   His Sniffies account hadn’t included a first name and we hadn’t asked; nor had we introduced ourselves on his door-step when we arrived. 

“He’s a few years out of the navy, now working for the port,” Bill had thrown-in.  “Guess he’s still in the military closet,” he’d speculated.  “His choice of living site location shows good taste; undoubtedly he has a thing for corps being just off the base.”

“The military closet door was flung open just over twelve years ago last month,” Chuck contributed dryly.  “Ten U-S-C six fifty-four was repealed effective … “

“Are you sure?” Bill cut in on his retired judge husband’s dissertation.  Because I could swear it was six fifty-WHO THE FUCK CARES.”

“Please pardon OUR interruption, Al,” Chuck genuinely apologized.  He threw Bill a vicious look but it was encased in adoration that neither could hide.  Bill’s hand strayed to Chuck’s thigh and caressed it as he looked back to us to continue the report.

We took our best shot at licking him clean of every drop of sweat.  It was quite salty and his pits were very manly but not rank. His hole was soaked but fresh with only man musk. “Dudes my turn,” he’d told us pulling us up from our knees.

Bill and Chuck were both listening intently as I continued.  Their dicks showed their interest.

We’d quickly discarded our shorts, shirts, and shoes.  Just as quickly Patrick had sucked both of us on his knees then.  His wide muscular back and very bubbly butt were as visually appealing as his mouth and hands were feeling and the smell of his sweat in the air; puts his Instagram photos all to shame.  The young man knew his way around cock for certain and when he took a break and leaned back on his haunches and grinned up at us it was apparent he loved doing it.  “How ‘bout we take this to my bed?”

His apartment was very small but also neat as a pin; the only thing that wasn’t was all of our clothes in heaps on the living room floor and the sweat splatter on his treadmill adjacent to his bed we saw when we got in there.  The strong smell of his sweat in that bedroom was frickin’ amazing!  His bed was made which seemed both in place but also out of place for after two a.m.  It was a king so even though it dominated the small room it gave us the benefit of an ample playing field.

Kent pushed him back hard so he fell on the bed; his grin showed he didn’t mind and he quickly got himself fully onto the bed with his legs spread wide and that big dick rock hard, wet at its head, and bobbing in the air.  Curious I asked him how he’d come to be cut in this day and age and given his youth.  He blushed and it radiated to his pecs.

He’d had an infection while in the service and although the doctors had tried to save his foreskin after explaining the pros and cons they finally had to circumcise him to prevent worse complications.  “I’d stuck my cock where it didn’t belong once too often.  But dude!  There was so much opportunity,” he’d told us with a laugh.  “Took me a long while to adapt; my fuckin’ head was so fuckin’ sensitive I was either sore as fuck or creaming my cammies for like two years after.  Even now in those boxer briefs well let’s just say it wasn’t all sweat!”  He laughed. “It is what it is; and it still serves me well.” he’d given his raging dick a hard side-ways slap.

“Should we observe caution when making contact?” Kent asked and playfully ran his fingers up the shaft but pulled off before nearing his scar or head.

Patrick hissed and told us we were in a caution-free zone.   Clearly earlier he hadn’t shown any painfulness when we man-handled him with our tongues.  He added that his safe word was … and then said nothing but just grinned wickedly at us.

At that point as we were telling our truth Bill’s huge dick had chubbed and Chuck’s was full-on raging.  Kent is hung by even the most jaded bottom’s standards; but Bill and Chuck both dwarf him and Bill’s dick is the thickness of a baseball bat when it’s hard.  We may not have ever played but it’s been hard often and with their disdain for clothes we knew it well.  Chuck’s not as girthful but also thick and long bashfully admitting to be more than ten inches; I’d guessed eleven.  I should add that both of them are tall as heck.  Chuck is six-seven I believe and Bill is six-five or at least over six-four as he’s more than an inch taller than Kent.  Add to that their very lean bodies and lanky build under their muscle and their god-like dicks look even larger despite their overall size.

I continued the report.

We took turns devouring Patrick’s body from neck to his toes; nice big feet on that one!  He was all moans and hands and lips and tongue all over us as we explored him.  Turned out he was a fast cummer; I was sucking him again and enjoying the hell out of it when he shouted suddenly, “I’M GONNA CUM!” right as the first blast of flavor hit my taste buds.  He bucked and shouted through a very heavy unloading and I swallowed every drop!  Probably didn’t hurt that Kent was eating his ass-hole like a starving man.

“Of course you fucking did stud!” Bill interrupted my telling and his menacing fully-hard dick showed he was enjoying it by a blob of pre-cum running down the shaft.  He is the only man I’ve ever known in person who truly merits the description “hung like a horse;” a mare might even have trouble with him!  “Good men!” he added in a bark that evidenced his marine corps general past and knocked me out of my trance gazing at that meat of his.

I got back to it.  Of course I was hard too having enjoyed in my memory the feel of Patrick’s hardness and throbbing and the taste of him gushing into my mouth.  I looked at Kent; he was hard too and his hand was playing with his big balls.

I continued the story and told how Kent had grabbed me and kissed me hard the second I’d finally retreated from Patrick’s spent member.  Kent licked every part of my mouth and lips and shared whatever was left of Patrick’s cum.  “Not bad,” he pronounced.

“Fucking amazing!” Patrick pronounced but clearly not referring to the taste of his cum and not in any way jesting; he was sort of limply laying catching his breath.  I wondered if he was done and this hook-up was going to end in less-than-expected fun.

“Boy were you wrong!” Kent chimed-in when I confessed that thought.

“Yeah, I sure as heck was!” I went on.

Patrick may have looked spent but his dick wasn’t showing any of that.  In the low light from the hall it glistened with my spit and stood just as proudly as when we’d started.  Kent flipped Patrick over and spread his strong legs.  “More of the buffet left to sample,” he said and licked up his fuzzy leg and thigh.  The movement recirculated Patrick’s sweat smell and we enjoyed it permeating the small room.

“Fuck yeah!” Patrick said loud but muffled with his face buried in the bed-spread.

Kent licked up his spine and I licked up his thighs; familiar territory from earlier but easier access.  Patrick moaned like he was in heat even so he’d just blown his wad.

“Duh!” Billy interrupted.  But I wasn’t stopping.  “That bitch was in heat.”

We all laughed and I continued.

Kent got to his hole again before I did and went into it with even more gusto.  Patrick moaned and bucked his bubble ass up to get more while I pulled his legs even farther apart and did my best to lick his balls from behind with Kent’s face glued to his crack. It wasn’t going the greatest so I pulled his dick back and licked the slick pre-cum from his fat stubbed dick-head.  I confess; that thick dick of his was rising in my top ten list.

“If only he’d been ten inches,” Bill joked.

“If he’d been ten inches there’s no way that would have been in MY hole later!” I protested with a mock grimace grabbing my ass and shooting a look from Bill’s to Chuck’s up-standing staffs.

Bill turned to Chuck and knocked his husband’s tall raging bone.  “Note to self,” he added and Kent and I chuckled.

I went back to the story.

“Fuck dudes! I need a cock and I’m offering my hole that you’ve got even wetter; but just fuckin’ get to it would ya please?” Patrick moaned.

“First you’re putting your hot rod to work on my husband,” Kent countered authoritatively.

Patrick reached back and grabbed my hairy ass and shook my glute.  “Fuckin’ A you got a deal!” he said and gave my ass a tighter squeeze.

In a blur Patrick was up and had flipped me on my back.  His tongue was inside me with little preamble and it felt like he was Gene Simmons’ twin; it was so far inside me it felt like twelve inches.  Kent had come around and dropped his sweaty balls on my face; I was sailing.

I devoured my husband’s big sweaty sac and prepared for Patrick to fuck me; his tongue was doing that but I wanted the cock.  But before I knew what was happening Patrick swallowed me whole and was sucking me like his life depended on it.  “Turnabout,” Kent said drolly amid my energetic moans.

Kent moved so his hole was within reach of my tongue and I shifted my technique; it’s different eating hole than balls.

“Yes it fuckn is!” Bill agreed.

My dick was rock-hard and giving Patrick plenty of flavor; meanwhile I was savoring Kent’s most personal essence while he ground his hole on my face.  I lost all track of how long that went on but was startled when Kent loudly said to Patrick, “Ride my husband’s cock dude; I know your hole needs it.”

Wait!  I thought I was the one about to get fucked.

But he had said he wanted it and just like that he was off my dick and it was waving free with his saliva running onto my balls.  Then he climbed aboard and forced himself down onto me with one loud grunt.

And there he was topping from the bottom; he was fucking himself on my raging boner hard enough to take the wind out of me when his glutes crashed down into my pelvis.  Patrick’s dick was hard and slapping my abs and splashing his pre all over.

Kent stood on the bed and said, “Here suck me!”

I heard Patrick struggle in grunts and groans as Kent’s ass began thrusting into him and rubbing harshly on my face.  I couldn’t protest had I wanted to; but I didn’t want to.

“Of course you didn’t!” Bill chimed in.  I wasn’t breaking stride now and continued without paying attention to my raging hard-on and the others’ as I retold.

I heard Patrick gulping and choking and knew from Kent’s nearly breaking my nose with his ass that he was throat-fucking him.  And though his tight hot hole was milking me his ass movements had quelled; assumably he was concentrating on handling Kent’s billy club of a dick assaulting his throat.  So I began thrusting hard up into him and his grunts got louder.

“That’s about when his teeth started scraping me and I slapped him,” Kent contributed.

“Teeth are so distracting to me but Bill gets hot with some teeth added to the sensations,” Chuck added.

Bill’s dick jumped at the mention as if to agree.  We all noticed and laughed; how could you not notice something that big?  If Kent is a destroyer Chuck is an aircraft carrier and Bill is a super-tanker!  His tanks are huge too; for the sake of this record.  He motioned as if impatient for me to continue as we laughed; maybe that’s what his dick was doing.  I laughed more but got on with it.

I was genuinely concerned for my nose as hard as Kent was going at Patrick’s throat.   I gave his ass a hard smack and he made an OOOH BABY crack.  “I’ll oh baby you if you break my nose!” I said from inside his crack and he dismounted.

Kent suggested we flip Patrick onto his back with his head off his bed; that way I could “really pound his lights out” (I air-quoted Kent’s enthusiastic proposal) and Kent could throat-fuck him sword-swallowed style.  We were all in agreement and I’ll admit that having Patrick’s wiry-haired legs on my shoulders filled the gap in sensation that Kent removing his hairy crack had caused.

Kent was holding his cock-sucker by his throat and the sight of his head along Patrick’s throat then out of sight and then back again was inspiring.  I imagined my own dick-head appearing under the hairy pubes and moving up his groin but of course it wasn’t visible that way just my fantasy while I pumped him.  Still it sparked me to pound him harder and that got more active groans and grunts from him and his hole working me tighter.

It was unexpected or maybe wasn’t and I just wasn’t paying attention when Patrick all of a sudden shot cum all over himself; I say wasn’t because his moans, groans, and grunts had become even more pronounced but he never made a move to grab his dick and pump it.

“I had his wrists pinned to the bed crucifixion-style; he couldn’t touch himself,” Kent reminded me.

“Hot!” Chuck reacted.

“OH RIGHT!” I commented.  “That was why he was rolling his shoulders after and said he thought one or both might be dis-located,” I finally figured out.

“A good bitch will take it no matter what happens to him,” Bill offered sagely with a sly glance to his husband.  Chuck blushed and I wondered what stories there were to tell there.  I giggled and Kent said for me to go on; so I did.

So him cumming made his hole really milk me and before I knew it I was cumming too.  Kent egged me on once he saw I was going for it and I just rammed into him and flooded his gut with my swimmers.  Kent pulled out of the mouth he’d been vandalizing and stroked several times and let loose with a very respectable coating that splashed me in the process.  “Don’t worry; we used Patrick’s shower to rinse off before we got back in your car,” I reassured them.  That got the biggest laugh of the story.

Then in the shower I’m spent but that boy is raging; it was finally my turn.  Kent pushed me up against the wall of that crowded shower, soaped-up my hole, and told Patrick to give me his last load of the night.  That stubby dick of his felt like a lot more the way he rammed me; like he hadn’t gotten-off twice already!  From the length of time until he blew another wad he for certain hadn’t lost any of that sensitivity after being cut.  The neighbors had to have heard the way he carried-on when he let loose inside me that time.

”Both of you were loud,” Kent added drolly.

”YOU were sucking my face; but I’d been loud before for that hour of the morning. You’re right.”

I returned to the telling. 

Good thing that shower wasn’t big or one of us would have fallen.  We didn’t  and Patrick finally seemed worn-out.  We lathered and rinsed each other and I declined having my hole soaped-up and cleaned-out; I saved that for Kent … like a doggie bag for when we got back here.

”My poor car seats,” Bill joked. 

“I left my shirt off and sat on it on the way back.  But you probably know that from car cams.”  Bill just looked smug.

“So here’s the thing,” I concluded.  “The guy is hot to make it a five-some if you’re up for it; we got his number,” I said and raised my eyebrows first at Bill then at Chuck.

“You just happened to mention you have some older friends you’re staying with; one of whom is a gimp and could use a charity roll?” Bill snapped.

“It was kind of awkward when we were showering after he’d unloaded that last time.  He was clearly hinting he wanted a replay and asking questions.”

“What kind of questions?” Bill snapped sharper.  But Chuck put his hand on Billy’s thigh, squeezed gently, and spoke quietly and evenly.  “The type of inquiries a freshly-fucked bitch makes when he sees an opportunity to have more of what he just enjoyed.  You remember; the type I asked you when you had vaulted out of my bed after our first time and I wanted to ensure you did not depart?”

Bill’s grim stare had softened when Chuck had touched his leg to calm him; now his face lightened.  “And that was well-played.  You knew exactly what you were doing and reeled me in didn’t you?” he said to his husband with a nearly starry look.

“I will plea no lo contendre to any long-term planning at that juncture,” Chuck answered him and then kissed him passionately.

Kent found my hand and clasped it tightly; when I looked at him he was grinning and his eyes watered.  I pulled his hand up and kissed it and rubbed my stubbly face on it and made a note to shave before the day was over.  Or not, I thought to myself and let my mind wander to how Kent reacts when my stubble grazes his ball-sac, dick-head, shaft, butt-crack or nipple.

I was sweating and my dick was dripping when Chuck and Bill returned their attention to us.  Bill didn’t hide a grin when he looked at the long tendril of pre hanging off my tip.  “I’m going to go rinse off in the shower,” I said and got up abruptly.   The unintended consequence of my hurried change of position was that tendril first swinging wildly and then breaking free and plopping to the tight turf about a foot or two away from my feet.

“Nonsense!” Bill barked sharply.  “Right now I need to cool down too and bet all of us do.  Everyone in the pool; NOW!  Chuck help me babe?” He finished in a much softer voice.

And although we had to be careful with Bill’s knee he goaded us into a fun time of horse-play in the actually not cool waters of their enormous pool in the sun over-looking the Pacific.  Our visit did serve to distract Bill from his doldrums at least occasionally.  And island “hospitality” wins hands-down (and dicks-up) over southern hospitality; that’s our assessment!