Solomon's Women
When I began my spiritual odyssey, I was 23 years old and I left the US for anywhere. Having been brought up in a strict all-white Catholic culture, I was aware after encountering other cultures, how suppressed and screwed up I was with regard to my own sexuality. So, I endeavored to experience as many different attitudes and mores as possible in my quest to ‘unlearn’ my Catholic upbringing and free myself of the fears associated with them.
After many years of travel through Central America, Europe, Africa, Asia and Australia, I finally ended up in the Solomon Islands, where I lived in the Melanesian culture for 10 years during the 70’s and 80’s. Melanesians have very different attitudes toward sexuality than Catholics. The veneer of civilization barely covers these people and their sexuality is very much on the surface rather than in the closet, where I had been raised to keep it.
This leads me to some adventures that I would like to relate to you as my own personal experiences. I will start near the end of my stay, after I had been having sex with the Solomon Islanders for about 7 years. (I was too scared to admit to being turned on to the young black women during my first three years there.) I had probably had sex with over 200 different women in those years. AIDS was everywhere else in the world BUT the south pacific and even today, there are either no cases of HIV infection or very few in most of the islands.
One of my favorite experiences was to interview prospective employees to work in my business or home. Since I only needed ‘unskilled’ people to do retail sales in my store and do housecleaning at my house, I almost always interviewed young women. And since I didn’t pay very much, only women who were just in from the outer islands applied for my jobs. They spoke broken English and weren’t very used to wearing much clothing. But, they would get dressed up in their best clothes from the local second-hand shop and present themselves promptly for the interview, many times their first interview with a white man.
I had advertised for a part-time job that included some work in my store and one or two afternoons a week doing some cleaning at my house. One morning, two girls came to see me about my ad. They were cousins and their family really wanted them to get a job. This was really for two reasons. One, the family would have some income added to the household and two, the girls wouldn’t be getting into trouble with the boys sniffing around them all day.
I asked the taller one to wait outside while I interviewed the shorter one in my office. She was about 18 years old, 5’3”, large, full, firm C breasts, beautiful light brown complexion (her grandfather was probably an american GI during WWII) and very nice legs and ass. Her name was Jeanne. I first asked her to fill out a form for the files, with her name, phone contact, etc. When she turned in her chair to face me, I went around my desk and sat right in front of her about 10 feet away. I couldn’t help but notice at the start of our conversation, that the top two buttons on her undersized, second-hand blouse were open giving me a very good view of her cleavage and bra. This was totally unconscious. The buttonholes were very worn and all through the interview, she never once even moved to cover up. (As I said, a lot of these women were not used to wearing clothes and they were not very self-conscious about such things. It’s much the same as young girls even in the US who, even though they are developing into women, act like children and are unselfconscious about much of their behavior.) I debated in my head whether I should tell her that her button had come open, but I could never quite get the words out. After about 10 minutes, I told her I would like to interview her cousin and then I would talk with them both afterwards.
Denise came in next. She was 19 years old, about 5’7”, blessed with, at least, a D breast and her complexion was a much darker brown. Also, her walk revealed very nice legs and ass. I ran through the interview much the same as Jeanne but none of her buttons fell open. The most obvious difference was that Jeanne was shy and trusting and Denise was suspicious and had a rather angry façade.
I then asked Jeanne to come back in. She had fixed her buttons by now. I told them I wanted one at the store, three days/week, and one at my house, two afternoons/week, to start with and if business picked up, I could give them more work. I asked them if they knew how to iron clothes and both said they had learned from their mother who cleaned at another house. To see if they were ambitious enough, I asked them if they would both come with me to my house so that they could demonstrate this. They were both very happy to do this. On the way, I explained that I would want them to do some other tasks, like cleaning my bathroom and shower too. I told them I would pay them both for a full afternoon even though they would only be there for an hour or two. Their eyes lit up and we went into my house one happy trio. My house was a small 2-bedroom affair. I led Jeanne into my bedroom where the ironing table was and told her to set it up and I would return with some instructions. I closed the door and led Denise down the hall into the pantry, showed her the cleaning supplies and asked her to get things ready and go into the bathroom and I would return later to give her instructions.
When I returned to my bedroom and closed the door behind me, Jeanne was all ready with a big smile. I made some small talk about my terrible ironing skills and we were both laughing. I told her to start with 2 handkerchiefs, as I didn’t want her to burn my shirt if she didn’t know what she was doing. I told her I’d be back.
I then went down the hall and Denise had everything ready in the bathroom. I told her I didn’t want her to get her nice clothes wet and dirty, so I went into the pantry and grabbed one of my sarongs and handed it to her, telling her to put her clothes in the pantry after she had changed into the sarong. She thanked me and I told her I’d be back.
When I got back to Jeanne, she proudly showed me her work and everything looked fine. Then, I kind of shyly asked her if she would mind ironing her own blouse first as I was still kind of nervous about my own clothes. I told her that if she wouldn’t burn her own blouse, I would then feel good about trusting her. Her head dropped and she got very shy and I told her it was fine and not to worry, it wouldn’t be any different than in the islands where she wore very little anyway. She said OK and started to remove her blouse. I asked her to stop after the top two buttons were open. I walked behind her and told her to relax. I told her that I wanted to unbutton her blouse for her. She sighed with some confusion but dropped her hands to the sides and I reached around and unbuttoned her blouse. My eyes beheld two beautiful, full, round breasts, held in place with a second-hand bra with frayed straps. My cock was now pushing against my shorts. I then slid the blouse over her arms and set it on the ironing table. I told her that I had never in my life seen such beautiful breasts and would she mind if I just held them once, just for a second. She crossed her arms and said no. I whined and told her it was only once and only for a second or two, I just wanted to know how it felt. Finally, she dropped her arms to her sides and I reached around in front of her and lifted the breasts slightly to feel their weight and texture. I felt God was very near me. I told her they were even more wonderful to touch than I had ever believed. I moved ahead just a little and touched her ass with the front of my bulging shorts. She moved away and I thanked her for letting me touch her. I would be back to check on her blouse.
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I was getting bored in the afternoon, she walked and replaced my boredom with love and passion... |
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