cerned as well. When he was that age, his mother had taught him better and, now, the responsibility fell to him. So, naturally, he invited his mother to visit. It had been a few years since Granny Gettsum had travelled across the country to visit but Terry remembered her fondly. She was a big woman but surprisingly active. Most of all, he remembered her laughter and her affection. She told crude jokes and swore, but always with a smile. Terry’s mother was not so amused and she grimaced every time but that was part of the fun. Terry waited impatiently for his father to bring her back from the airport and when they pulled into the driveway, he ran out to greet her. She had gotten even bigger and Terry could barely hug her. She hugged him though and he nearly suffocated between her breasts. “Look at you. You’ve gotten so big”, she gushed, “You’re a man now”. His father asked Terry to get her luggage and opened the trunk. “Are you sure you’re big enough for MY bags, sweetcheeks?”, she asked. “No problem”, Terry boasted but when he lifted them he continued, “Holy shit, what have got in here, a car battery?”. “And spares. It never hurts to be prepared”, She answered and laughed, but directed at her son. Terry was just happy to get away with swearing. They all went inside and Terry put the luggage away while his grandmother said hello to his mother and sister. “So, whose bed will I be sleeping in?”, Terry heard his grandmother ask when he got back to the living room. Terry’s mother mentioned that they converted the den and that she will have her own room. “That’s a shame. You shouldn’t have gone to so much effort”, Granny responded. “We didn’t want you to worry about the stairs”, assured her daughter-in-law. “I may be fat but I’m not old yet”, Granny said with a chuckle. “I was only concerned because I know you have bad knees”, Terry’s mother defended. “You’re very thoughtful”, Granny conceded, “These old knees are worn out. Damn football injury”. “You played football?”, Terry asked with a baffled expression. “Not exactly but you can say I was on the team”, Granny said with a grin. “How did you hurt your knees?”, Terry probed, more confused than before. “Picking up the soap in the locker room”, his grandmother retorted curtly, “Dinner smells wonderful”. The conversation shifted toward food and family. There were lots of stories about Terry’s aunts and cousins and Terry got bored. The aunt and cousins still lived in the same city where his father grew up and Granny lived in her own condo. They talked about that, too, all through dinner. Terry finally got a word in and asked if Granny wanted to play a video game after dinner. She used to do that before but she sucked at it, to use her words. “Can’t tonight, sweety. Got a date”, Granny answered. “You have a date?”, her son asked in amazement. “Ya, I called up an old friend that I would be in town. He insisted on picking me up at the airport but I put him off till tonight”, Granny boasted. Terry watched his mother shake her head in disapproval but she always did that with Granny. “Tomorrow, we can play your game. You can kick my ass tomorrow”, Granny promised as she winked. “He’ll be here soon, she continued, “I better get changed”, and left the table. When she returned from the den, half an hour later, Dianne pointed out that she was wearing the same clothes. “He ain’t coming to see my clothes, honeybuns”, was Granny’s response. Terry didn’t get to see his grandmother before bedtime or even in the morning, before school. His mother said that she was still sleeping and to be quiet. After school and after homework, as his mother pressed, Terry got his chance to “kick her ass”. Good thing his mother didn’t stick around because Granny swore up a storm then. She even called him names, like “little shit”, but it was all in fun. Some of the words, Terry hadn’t even heard before. She nudged and tickled and tried to get distract him but she still lost every game. “You got another date tonight”, Terry asked. “Naw. It’ll probably take him a week to recover”, she answered abstractly, “I need a younger man”. “How about you”, she flirted, “You can be my date tonight”. “Okay, but I have to be home by ten”, Terry joked. She laughed so hard that the windows rattled and then gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. Later that night, around 11:00, Terry heard a soft knock on the door. He pulled the sheets over his hard cock and the magazine and squeaked out a “Ya“. Granny came in and sat on the side of the bed. The bed groaned under the weight and Terry braced himself from rolling into her. She didn’t say a word. She just reached under the covers and pulled out the magazine as if she were psychic. She leafed through the pages and paused at the centrefold. “Is this the kind of girl you like?”, she questioned. “I guess so”, Terry mumbled. “You know the problem with these kind of girls?”, Granny asked rhetorically, “They’re not real”. She told him not to be ashamed about jacking off but that he shouldn’t brag about it either. She said that the biggest problem is that it was such a waste. Then she suggested that he demonstrate his technique. “I can’t do it in front of you”, Terry complained. She held the centrefold in front of her face and asked, “You can do it in front of her”. “But I can’t… It won’t… It’s soft”, he whimpered. “Now that’s something I can take care of”, his grandmother offered. She didn’t wait for a reply. She threw the covers back and Terry rushed to cover himself but lost his balance as he rolled toward his grandmother. “Oh my God, you got pubes”, Granny commented, “That’s a shame but you are a young man now. You will be by the time I get through with you”. She cupped his balls and his youthfully small prick in her wrinkled hand and squeezed softly. Terry wanted to scream but he loved his grandmother and didn’t want to get her in trouble. He was helpless and vulnerable with his fate in her hands. Her hand shifted to the shaft and she tugged and massaged it. He couldn’t help it. It felt so much better than his own hand but not nearly as soft. He began to relax and just enjoy the sensations and, as he got harder, her tugs became strokes. “That’s my big guy. Show me what you got”, Granny cooed. He had closed his eyes, trying to convince himself it was just a dream, but he opened them when he felt the bed move. He watched as her mouth engulfed his prick and felt something entirely new and indescribable. “Oops, I almost forgot”, Granny said as she paused. She pulled her false teeth out and handed them to him, asking him to put them on the side table. He did what he was told and treated it as just more dream of the night. “You’re in for a treat now”, Granny said proudly. Terry had nothing to compare it to. It felt amazing but he had no idea how good she was. If he only knew that it will probably be the best blow-job of his life. Her tongue was like an instrument and even her gums and the roof of her mouth was a trained chorus of pleasure. She sucked like a Hoover and, being a young man, it didn’t take long for him to cum. He shook as though he were having a seizure. It was unprecedented but so many things were for him. She managed to hold him in his mouth and swallowed every drop. She got up and wiped her mouth with her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow night”, she warned, “You can owe me one”. He lay in bed, convincing himself that what had happened was real. He couldn’t be dreaming because he felt so alive and his prick was still twitching. He didn’t think he would get to sleep but he did and quickly. The next morning, he avoided the eyes of everyone and especially, his grandmother. He knew they had done something wrong but he wasn’t sure why. She didn’t really hurt him, just the opposite. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he did nothing. All he knew was that he couldn’t say anything to anybody. Not only would it hurt her grandmother but it was just embarrassing. Granny acted as though nothing had happened at all except for a pat on the butt she gave him as he left for school. She gripped it a little too long to be just playful. When he got back from a quiet day at school, life just seemed like it was before. He did his homework and played video games. They had dinner and talked casually but Terry knew better. He was just pretending as if it hadn’t happened. He kept looking into his parents eyes to see if he had given away his secret. He went to bed that night with a mix of dread and anticipation and, for the first time in months, did not abuse himself to sleep. He just waited and waited until his eyelids became too heavy. He was awoken by being shaken. His grandmother stood above him as reality took hold. “Had to wait till your parents got to sleep”, she whispered, “Tonight, we’re gonna rock ”. She removed her bathrobe to reveal her bra and panties and the mounds of folded flesh. Terry watched in horror as she removed her bra and her tits flopped out and under her armpits. This didn’t look like the pictures in his magazine. Everything was loose and dangled. Her arms flapped like the flippers of a walrus and her sheer bulk frightened him. There was almost three times as much of her as there was of him. “Tonight, you’re gonna learn how to pleasure a real woman”, Granny began her lesson, “Shove over”. To Terry, she seemed mountainous lying beside him but he had to be close because there was no room left in the single bed. She rolled down her panties, if that is the correct term for anything so large, and dangled them above his head. “Take a whiff, I’ve been wet all day waiting for this”, she encouraged. He almost gagged on the aroma before asking, “What do you want me to do?”. “It’s an acquired taste but you might as well get used to it”, she began her instructions. Terry did what she told him and positioned himself between her legs as she asked and she pulled his head right into it. “Stick your tongue in there. Lick it like a dog. Ya, right there. That’s the spot. Hope you didn’t have a big dinner” He kept at it and she slowly got wetter until the pussy juices flowed. It was musky and kind of funky tasting and Terry wondered if all women tasted like this but he still kept at it. He didn’t have a choice, his head was gripped between her thighs and she thrust her hairy pussy at him. Eventually, she quivered and bounced and the bed shuddered. He couldn’t lap up the juice as fast as it gushed and he wondered if his mother would think that he wet the bed. She relaxed her grip on his head and he popped up to ask if they were done. “Not by a long shot, honeylips”, she stated, “Give granny a kiss”. Terry climbed over her stomach and hesitated because he had never kissed her on the lips. She grabbed his head with both hands and tugged it toward her. She pushed her tongue between his lips and gave him his first French kiss as he straddled her girth. She sucked his tongue like she had sucked his dick and Terry was overwhelmed by her passion. Her hands lowered to his ass and she squeezed those little cheeks like toys. His dick began to swell against her bellybutton. “Feels like you’re ready for the home run”, Granny suggested. Terry was beginning to listen to his other head but it wasn’t sure what to do either. “Just stick it in there, big guy”, Granny led. He slid back down but found that it would only fit in if he kneeled between her legs. It slid in easily and it was so warm and soft. Instincts took over and he thrust inside her while watching her face. It gave him joy to give her joy. It gave him ecstasy to take hers. He felt different. He felt like a man. After she had left for her own room, Terry knew that things had changed. He was not just a victim, he was an accomplice. He looked forward to tomorrow. He got home late from school the next day. Hockey practice had kept him. He got home to find his grandmother alone in the house. Apparently, his mother was out with his sister. It didn’t take them long to get naked but, this time, it was in her room. She gave him another blow-job but stopped before he lost his load. Then, she knelt on the bed with her face on the pillow and her huge ass in the air. “Spank me”, she ordered Terry was confused. He was confused for several reasons, not the least of which was the vagueness of her request. He was reminded of when his friend said that he would meet him in the park. Problem was that the park was several acres and he didn’t know where to start. He was faced with a similarly imposing amount of real estate. “Slap that puppy”, she insisted. So he did, again and again, over here and over there, until it became red. She moaned and screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Terry was not only enjoying this, he was aroused by it. “Mom, are you alright”, came Terry’s father’s voice from the other side of the door but he didn’t wait for an answer. He opened the door to see his naked son behind his mother’s big red ass. Terry looked back at his father in terror as his heart raced. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were hurt”, his father apologized, swallowing a laugh. “No problem”, his mother stated, “It’s been a long time since you had a gummer”. He considered it for a while and shrugged. Unlike his son, he knew how talented she was. He walked to the other side of the bed and undid his belt. “Whatcha waiting for sweetcheeks”, Granny said to her grandson, “Give it to me”. His father asked, “How does it feel to barbeque a sacred cow?”. Terry had no clue what his father was talking about but his grandmother said, “Moo”. Any normal guy would be limp as a noodle after all that but Terry was not normal. He was thirteen. It all began to make sense to him. It was still beyond his imagination but reality was so much stranger. So, there he was, fucking his grandmother from behind while she gave his father a blow-job. If his mother and sister joined in right now, he probably wouldn’t be surprised. He wasn’t surprised, the next day, when his grandmother asked his sister to sit on her lap. “You’re such a sweety”, Granny flattered, “I really bet you are. I just want to eat you up”. Granny’s hand slid up Dianne’s inner thigh till it went under her school skirt. “Do you have any hair down there, yet?”, Granny asked with all the appearances of being innocent.

e not so welcoming and attacked the ship by throwing rocks. Guns and cannons eventually pacified the natives. To make sure, Captain Wallis had their canoes destroyed. It explains why there are so many more native women than men on the island. As so many of the African natives I have seen, they are without humility and nearly naked. They are dark-skinned but not nearly as dark as the Africans and their facial features are more European. In fact, they are quite attractive. The crew has been affected by the native women and their exposed breasts. Restraining the crew will be difficult. We had been at sea for eight months. Restraining myself is without question as an officer.

April 15, 1769

We spent the day searching along the shores of the island for a good location to build. Our priorities are that it is accessible from the sea, that it is defendable and that there is building materials nearby. The captain assigned me the double duty of escorting Mr. Banks, the botanist. During the voyage, I tried to avoid the crude and drunken Mr. Banks and this day proved to be even more of an inconvenience. Although it was good to see the botanist excited with something to do, he slowed our progress considerably. He was a different man with his feet on the ground but no less annoying. He did point out why most of the trees would be unacceptable for our needs. Along our way, the native children followed and mimicked and giggled. The real distraction was the young women who flirted just beyond our reach but not beyond our attention. I had to keep the crew in a close group around the itinerant botanist. Many of the crew made feeble efforts to escape our company for that of the native girls. The day was fruitless and the effort was futile. We set up camp for the night and I established a guard, not to keep the natives away but to keep the crew from wandering.

April 16, 1769

Late in the day, we came across a reasonable location. It was the windward side of the island and more weather beaten than we had seen in this lush tropical forest but the wood was stronger and the point of land had our backs to the sea. It was also a day’s walk from the native village and that had become a concern. The natives had abandoned us so far away from their home. We began to set up a temporary camp where the fort would be built around us. There was no port but a ship could get fairly close to shore on one side of the reef. I decided to notify the captain that I had found a suitable location but I knew that I had not explored the whole island yet. Tomorrow, we will walk back to the village and the ship.

April 19, 1769

The captain took faith in my judgement with very few questions. I am disappointed that the ship will remain anchored off the village while we begin construction. The captain plans to depart and explore the nearby islands as soon as possible, leaving myself and a small contingent behind. Although he hasn’t said anything specifically, I suspect the captain shares my concern about fraternizing with the native girls. The captain may not have a proud lineage but he has proven to be an excellent officer and proper English gentleman. He would not likely be completely unaware of the crew’s behaviour but he might place too much faith in them. The crewmen simply take advantage of the situation and cannot be faulted. They have neither the breeding nor the discipline to resist their base urges. As an officer, it will be my responsibility to maintain control of the crew and demonstrate by my own example.

April 20, 1769

A feast from our hosts brought the opportunity to express our plans. The captain conveyed our intentions by drawing in the sand with a stick and making exaggerated gestures. He said that we would need a home if we were to be their allies. Earlier, he had given the crew orders that we were give every impression that we were there to stay, as neighbours. The captain also conveyed that we would like to train a translator among their people by teaching them our language. Then, the captain informed me that I would be obliged to teach their chosen translator. I respectfully offered that Mr. Banks is the scholar and would be a better choice. The captain insisted that Mr. Banks is not a naval officer and that he will be occupied. I accepted my additional duties with no further argument. He also suggested that I make an effort to learn their language while I teach ours. My duties were beginning to weigh upon me. The feast lasted for hours and throughout, their idea of entertainment continued. At first, the dancers were more formal and dressed elaborately and colourfully but it deteriorated into a frenzy of pounding drums and naked breasts. I was appalled at the debauchery of it all. Nearly naked girls gyrating and flirting to the pounding drums. In some sort of fertility ritual, a man and woman feigned having sex on the ground. The crewmen were straining against their lecherous natures and joined the dance. It was humorous to watch them mimic the native dance but I maintained my attention to guard their discretion. There was one particular girl that caught my attention. She would be considered beautiful on any continent. Smooth skin, full firm bosoms and taut abdominal muscles and the way she moved her hips, it was hypnotic with no pun intended. It was her face that captured me. Luminescent green eyes framed by raven-black hair and lips that seemed to be permanently puckered. What little clothing she wore left just enough to the imagination. Apparently, my own eyes caught hers and she invited me to dance. Naturally, I refused. I looked over to see the angry expressions of both the captain and the chief. I began to understand that the chief was offended that I didn’t accept their heathen generosity.

April 22 1769

I led a crew of a dozen and a botanist back to the village. We would be taking the boats to the location of the fort but we first needed to acquire our new student of English. Frankly, I was disappointed that the captain didn’t relocate the ship, at least temporarily. My task becomes more formidable every day but I will perform my duty proudly. I met the native chief, who seemed to be still holding a grudge about the declined hospitality, and he gestured toward his choice for translator. It took all my decorum to not object. He had chosen the same girl that had asked me to dance. I wasn’t expecting a girl, especially not her. Of course, the crew were happy to see her joining us. While rowing to the location, my mind raced with thoughts about how much time I must spend with her and how to keep the crew from teaching her more than proper English. My head ached but I kept my eyes on the horizon and the crew. Only the occasional sideways glance kept me aware that the girl had her eyes on me. I could almost feel her staring at the back of my head, desperately seeking my approval. She would not get it. I had no ill will toward her personally but my position requires that I remain aloof. It is not her fault that she was chosen or even that she is so beautiful but my duties can only be compromised. That night brought a storm and the men and I huddled under the overturned boats on the shore. Although the girl wanted to join us, I pointed her toward the trees and had some of the crew assemble a rough shod shelter out of driftwood and branches. She shivered in the rain and cold all night. I know because I didn‘t sleep either.

April 23, 1769

It was either the reddest sunrise I had ever seen or I was just looking through bloodshot eyes. The clouds sailed away and I ordered the men to build temporary shelters until a barracks can be started. The axes slammed into the trees all day while other crew members strapped wood and canvas together. Everyone worked hard, taking turns hauling and chopping. Nobody wanted to spend another night like that. I led by example and even Mr. Banks postponed his wandering to help as much as he was possible. Not exactly suitable chores for a gentleman and definitely not in his experience but he made an admirable effort. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, the girl was quite a talented thatcher. Work was still not enough distraction for most of the crew and they leered at her . Even my own self-discipline was tested by her considerable charms and I felt obliged to hide them. I offered her an old shirt and a pair of baggy ragged pants that I brought along for work like today’s. She accepted them gratefully and was marvelled at the gift of civilization. Fortunately, they fit her like a tent but I wish she had waited to change into them until I had turned my back. By nightfall, we had one large and one small shelter. They were ugly patchworks of rubble and canvas but they will serve.

April 25, 1769

Mr. Banks and myself had shared the small shelter. It was a tortuous night. I find it hard to fathom how such a well-bred man can be so common. He was almost drooling as he talked about the native girls and took no notice of my disapproval. I was tempted to confront him as he described our female companion in detail but at least one of us must remain a gentleman. Even in sleep, he could not remain quiet. I found myself with plenty of time to think about who are the real barbarians and questioning if the English are truly the superior race. Meanwhile, the girl was sleeping just a few feet away under the boat and only a scrap of canvas separated us. What kind of language could she be learning from our good botanist? Daylight brought a return to some semblance of normalcy and sanity. I ordered half of the crew to begin assembling materials to build barracks and the other half to forage for food. I asked Mr. Banks to lead and advise the latter. I ordered the latter to keep an eye on him and to go in the opposite direction of the village. Turned out that half the village came to us. They were curious about our project and were amused at our ramshackle huts. I had learned from the captain and made exaggerated gestures trying to describe the plans and European architecture. I received plenty of puzzled expressions. It seemed like an opportune time to begin English lessons and I had an eager class of children along with the girl. I just picked out objects and had them repeat the words. Then, I taught them my name and learned some of theirs. Her name is Hinano. May 1, 1769 The captain sent the first officer, Mr. Scuggins, to check my progress. I’m a little disappointed that the captain didn’t come himself. He brought along more provisions but they were hardly necessary. The natives were very generous with gifts of food when they visited and fish seemed to jump into our nets. Still, it was good to have civilized company and I was proud of our development. One of the first things I had taught Hinano, was to curtsey and introduce herself politely. I became a bit perturbed at Mr. Scuggins’ innuendos about Hinano and myself. I felt like the last bastion of civilization. Obviously, Mr Scuggins had not been leading by example. However, even I had to surrender to overwhelming forces. We were surrounded by native girls and I could not be vigilant with the crew all the time. I just kept Hinano safe from the crew’s lascivious whims. That wasn’t easy. Hinano is a friendly and curious girl but I occupied her time and her mind with my lessons. She is a quick learner. She had managed to build her own shelter. It looked like a tent made out of dried grass but still disgraced our huts. It was also elevated of the ground like the other huts of her village. I wish I had thought of that for the barracks because we were constantly brushing out crabs and insects out of beds. Many of the crew had abandoned their hut for hassocks further inshore. May 3, 1769 It has become apparent that the crew has not only been familiar with the some of native girls but they had specific girlfriends among them. I worry that the native men, the fathers and brothers of these girls will become offended but I almost wish they would. They think they are hiding it from me but I am no fool. What was so amazing was that these men are far from the pride of the nation and, yet, these beautiful young girls found them irresistible. I considered ordering the men back to sleeping in their huts but that would be like putting the cork back on the bottle after the genie had escaped. Let them be judged by God. May 6, 1769 I have been summoned back to the ship for undisclosed purpose. I decided to return Hinano to her village rather than leave her there alone. She expressed that she will be glad to see her family again. I was surprised to learn that her father is the chief. My little princess. I am so relieved that the relationship has remained platonic. It could have been catastrophic if the chief had been insulted. The captain received me in his quarters as dinner was being served. Mr Scuggins joined us minutes later wearing a smug smile. The captain seemed upset but not in an angry way. He informed me that he will be taking the ship to explore the nearby islands within the week and mentioned that the chief tried to warn him that the natives of other islands were unfriendly and attacked his island frequently. At least that was what the captain understood him to gesture. These other natives would take anything of value, including some of the women. Of course, the natives of this island would retaliate. “One heathen is no better than another. At least civilized people fight for ideals”, I mentioned. “That leads me to the other thing I wanted to talk about”, the captain added, “These people have been very gracious and it would be rude not to accept their …. gifts”. Mr Scuggins coughed and I looked up to see him biting his lip to hold back a smirk. I told the captain that I understood. He was relieved to put an end to that particular topic and asked me about the progress of the fort. I informed him that the we were having difficulty finding proper building materials but that it will be ready by the time we leave. We concluded dinner with a cup of vinegar, as always. The captain insisted that drinking vinegar would prevent scurvy but it made me nauseous and it spoiled a good meal. I spent the night aboard the ship to return to the island in the morning. Despite the gentle rocking of the waves and the comfortable bed, I found it hard to get to sleep. May 8, 1769 A new day brings a new perspective. I gathered the crew and explained to them what the captain explained to me. It got a little awkward. Mr. Monkhouse asked if it was an order to fornicate with the natives. “I cannot ask you to jeopardize your morals or your commitment to Christian values but you will not be judged by me”, were my exact words and the words I have always lived by. My absence had been a detriment. Virtually no progress had been achieved on the barracks. I notifed the crew that every moment of daylight will be utilized and they will be expected to double their productivity. I was no exception and I doubled my effort to teach Hinano our language. I felt renewed and resolved. Also, I reinstitued the captain’s tradition of forcing the crew to drink vinegar. If the crew will not restrain themselves, maybe I could encourage the natives to. However, for some of the crew, it could only improve their breath. May 13, 1769 What better to teach English than the Holy Bible. I found myself going through it again for strength and was inspired to share it with Hinano. Today, I read the story of Moses to her, with elucidation along the way. She understood God’s vengeance but not the sin that instigated it. We have much more work to do. Perhaps she will even teach her village of the one true God. There must be some sort of heavenly reward for that. Still, I have never been so tested by temptation. The smell of her hair as she turns her head raises animal urges from deep inside. The soft warmth of her cheek just inches away from my trembling hand. My dreams betray me and, in the morning, I pray for strength. May 15, 1769 I found myself questioning God’s will or, at least, his intentions. If this is a test , then why does he test me? Of course, it’s presumptuous and it’s probably a sin to question God. I wish I had paid more attention in church. So, I began to question my own morals. The difference between right and wrong or sin and virtue has a lot to do with circumstance. “Thou shalt not kill” except in defence of one’s country or quite a few other good reasons. This is not particularly profound but just something I always took for granted. I tried to think in those terms instead of the absolutes but then I wondered if I was merely attempting to justify my own desires. My head throbs and I still have no answers. May 17, 1769 May God forgive me for losing my will and my temper today. I found Hinano flirting with Mr. Banks and bruised her arm forcibly. I expected so much more of her and let her know of it in raised voice. “You no lick me”, She yelled back at me. It took a moment but I answered softly, “Of course I LIKE you” , as I held her hands. “You no want me”, she responded with a tear falling down her cheek. “Of course I want you”, I whispered before my lips touched hers. I felt like I was flying. I felt like I was falling into a bottomless pit. I left her leaning against a tree when I regained my intellect. May 18, 1769 I spent all night with a candle searching for the passage in the Holy Book that forbade my love and condemned my lust. I could not find it. Where had I been taught this? It may be the original sin but, without it, it would also have been the last. Perhaps I had found the paradise where Adam and Eve had been banished. All that is left is to take a bite of the apple. May 21, 1769 Three days ago, I gave my overworked crew a well deserved leave. They looked puzzled at first but soon threw their tools into the air in their jubilation. Unfortunately Mr. Monkhouse received minor injuries from a falling axe. Most of them began running in the direction of the village. I turned my attention to Hinano. I watched her sombre face slowly brighten until her cheeks dimpled with a smile. It had been a long time since I had seen that smile but this time it was just for me. It seems sudden now but the next thing I realized was that I was kissing her. We were embraced so passionately that the world around us seemed to disappear. Even the sand we stood upon ceased to exist. It was a little disconcerting and the world came back. I looked around to see who had witnessed this crime of decorum but there was nobody else around. Even Mr. Monkhouse had managed to limp away. We were alone and I was not going to waste another minute. My manhood could no longer be denied. I looked down at the rags I had given her and they looked better than when I had given them but they no longer suited her. I pulled the at the collars and the buttons tore away. She whimpered and I yanked my eyes from those round youthful breasts that begged to be touched. She was shocked that I had destroyed her gift so I took off my shirt and handed it to her. I pulled the rag off her shoulders and wished that I were not so much taller than her so that I could be closer to those breasts. However, my hands were at just the right height. They squeezed against the firmness and caressed the softness. Everything about a woman is a duality and a complexity. They give so much and need so much. Men are simple, by comparison and all I needed was her. She led me by the hand to her tent of grass and let go to slip inside. I stood there, mindlessly as I watched her slide the pants down her legs. It seemed so erotic that my old pants had been so close to her naked hips. Now it was my turn. I slid in beside her and removed my pants, trying to keep my modesty. As I kissed her again, it felt so good to be unconfined as I brushed along her thighs. I lifted myself over her and looked into her hungry eyes. She spread her legs to accept me and I felt the slippery wetness at the tip of my manhood that ached to be inside her. I pushed slowly into her and her head pushed back as her mouth opened. Her hips pushed up to take me. When I was in all the way, it occurred to me what a proud fool I had been. Her body just writhed gently below me but she moaned more wantonly than any whore I had known. She seemed so tiny below me and I wanted to be gentle but as my passion rose, so did my force. Both she and the timbers of the hut shook. It didn’t take long after such a prolonged absence but I erupted like a volcano and convulsed repeatedly. It felt as though I had drained my soul and the weight of the world had been lifted off my back. There was no going back nor did I want to but there was something that had been lost. Certainly it was not my purity. That had been sacrificed long ago. Perhaps it was my dignity. Without that burden, I was free. Between the more intimate times, we splashed in the water and played like children. In fact, I can not remember when I had so much fun, even as a child. We made love frequently and spontaneously, inside and out. Each time, Hinano became a bit more ambitious. I would get hard with only a touch or a twinkle in her eye and often before that. I enjoyed when she was on top so that I could see her. She would grind her hips on my full length while her breasts wouldn‘t move. It was as though she expanded and contracted on me. It was like she danced on me. I was surprised that oral sex was a part of the native vocabulary since I considered it a talent limited to whores. I had heard the crew teasing one of the men about his “French tongue” and I even made a brief attempt but felt embarrassed. I could have lived like that for the rest of my life but I have responsibilities. After two days and nights, it was time to retrieve the crew. I, also, wanted to show the chief my gratitude and allow Hinano to visit her family. Oddly, I had learned more of the native language in the last couple days than I had all month although I doubt that I could share any of it with the chief. We arrived in the village in mid-afternoon. I was wearing my best uniform and it felt uncomfortable in the heat. I had only been out of uniform for two days out of the last six months and now it weighed heavily on me. The village was busy preparing for another feast tonight. It seemed they were expecting us. The chief, for the first time, was happy to see me. Hinano left on her own activities and I searched for the crew. Most of the ones I found were caught in compromising positions. I did not scorn them. I just asked where the others could be found and asked for assistance to gather them for the feast. I sat beside the chief and enjoyed the spectacle as it grew into a frenzy. The natives had some sort of putrid alcoholic drink they made out of fermented fruit. I was pleased Mr. Banks had brought some of his Scotch. I knew he had some because I had smelled it on his breath at night but I never saw him drink since he had been on the island. I wondered how much he had us lug through to the camp. Again, the drums pounded furiously but now, they shook my heart. My pulse raced with the beat and my forehead beaded with sweat. I watched the erotic gyrations of the dancers and realized that I had become excited. I glared at Hinano as she danced just for me and I laughed along with the chief as the crew joined in. Hinano held her hand out to me as an invitation and I kissed it but declined again. I could not compromise my authority in front of the crew. The chief nodded in a way that was neither approval nor disapproval but, maybe, understanding. He, too, is laden with leadership. I tugged Hinano toward me and had her translate my gratitude for the feast and for their hospitality since we arrived. Of course, I had to phrase it more simply for her and I tried to decipher her words as she spoke in her language but both the chief and I beamed with pride in her. The chief had an announcement of his own. When he stood and spoke, the whole village stopped and listened and when he stopped, they all shouted in approval. Hinano, with a wide smile, translated what he had said as, “I so happy. You brother now”. It took me an embarrassing long time to understand that I had been paid quite an honour but before I would have insulted the chief, I stuck out my hand in the most appropriate gesture I could think of. He shook my hand and I swear I could have heard the crowd gasp as he did. Hinano explained, “Taboo touch king”. She had used the word, king, for her father before and I assumed that it was just her poor understanding of English but, I began to see the reverence they had for him. What was even more interesting was the concept of “taboo” and that these savages had some bizarre sense of values. I thought that they just did what they pleased with no sense of right or wrong. My mind reeled as I considered what they would consider as ethics. With just the local population in the thousands, they must have rules. For the first time, a revelation struck me that different may not be inferior. Certainly, they were primitives and pagans but, hundreds of years ago, so were my ancestors. For the rest of the night, I observed and tried to understand these people. They were congregated into three distinct groups that were too large to be families but appeared to be divided by wealth or social status. The differences in the way they dressed, their jewellery and even their unusual tradition of marking their skin all represented a type of social hierarchy. They were subtle differences but I had been taught since childhood to recognize and to classify. The festivities broke up slowly as men and women paired off and discretely left. Eventually, Hinano escorted me to a one of their huts. I watched her hips sway as I followed her and was reminded of the dancing, the naked breasts and the pounding drums. If this were to be incest with my new sister, then let me be damned. Inside, there were a over a dozen grass mats used as beds and they were full. The men slept on one side of the room and the women and children on the other. I tried to return her smile as I felt my heart drop. May 27, 1769 I divided the crew into two groups. One group to build a barrier around the barracks. The barrier would consist of a four foot ditch and a four foot burm, reinforced by stones. Perhaps it was more of a token than a fortress but it was more than necessary. The other group continued building more barracks but I ordered them to build them elevated of the ground, like the natives. I have become more involved in the fort but still made time to teach Hinano English Actually, I was spending more of the time learning about her and her people. I learned of an ordered society and a religion that reminded me of Roman mythology. I learned the names of the their carved statues which they called “tiki”. The families were centred around the mothers and grandmothers and they were the real power. There were marriages arranged by the parents and infidelity would be the exception rather than the rule. Jealousy was one of their taboos and discretion was highly valued. That, I learned all too well. Every night, I would sneak into her hut and make love so quietly that the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore seemed loud. Her moans were barely more that breaths while we ravished each other like an octopus on a clam. Every morning, before anyone else had awoke, I would return to my own bed. I protested this false modesty but she insisted on our privacy. It struck me that if she was unfaithful with anyone else, I probably would not know of it. I never gave her the opportunity. During the day, I watched over her and protected her. Almost all of the men had their own girlfriends but none compared to the prize of my princess. In particular, I kept my eye on Mr. Banks and hadn’t forgotten that other day. June 6, 1769 I can’t remember a time when I have been more content. The warmth of the tropic sun has penetrated deep into me and, in turn, radiates from me. I feel healed and whole and I see the world in a new light. It will be difficult to leave this place. There are moments that I feel I must tell her but they are followed by moments that I know she shouldn’t know. I have my orders and there should be no doubt but, when I look into her eyes, the truth is a shadow between us. June 15, 1769 The quiet peace of those days came to an abrupt end with the sound of gunfire. At first, I thought, that the natives were attacking and ordered the men behind the barricade. We waited with guns at the ready for the wave of angry natives but they did not come. Two of the men were unaccounted for as were two gunshots. Eventually, Mr Banks came stumbling through the woods. He was bloodied and wavering and, soon, fell on his face. This could have been was a trap set by the natives so we waited. When the sun went down, I led half of the men to retrieve his body. We turned him over and he was still breathing. He stunk of that noxious native alcohol and his wound was just a scratch on his shoulder. “Banks, Where’s Monkhouse?”, I asked. “Dead”, he slurred, “I killed him”. “Where!” I barked impatiently. He merely pointed before his eyes rolled back . I had three of the crew follow me back into the woods. We found Mr. Monkhouse lying on the ground, unconscious and with a quite a bump on his noggin. He had the same stench of fermented fruit. A few shakes and a couple slaps, which helped me more than him, brought him around. He was a bit more coherent than Mr. Banks and he told me that they had a gentlemen’s duel over one of the native girls. What nonsense. The girls give their affection freely, if somewhat quietly and there was a lot more of them than there was of us. Still, I might have done the same for Hinano, particularly with Mr. Banks. June 16, 1769 I gathered the men to talk of yesterday’s events. I told them that it was completely unnecessary. “After all”, I concluded, “We are only here for one more month”. The only good side of this is that Hinano had left for her village and did not witness this humiliation. She returned with news of another feast. I was torn about allowing the crew to attend. Would it be better to confine them from temptation and force them to fester with their obsessions or should they have another taste of native inhibitions? They had been infected by affection and their judgement had been compromised but, perhaps, the cure is the same as the disease. Then again, we could always go back to drinking vinegar. June 18, 1769 This time, I led the men back to the village in what came to look like a parade. I had the men dress in their best and armed. We entered the village in proper a military line and the natives came to watch. We may have looked threatening from a distance but our smiles gave us away. Our arrival was timely and I kept the men together for the hour until the festivities. Their girlfriends tried to pull them away but there will be plenty of time for that later. We sat as a group on the right side of the chief and I think he was impressed by my authority over them. He took pride in the way a father would. As before, the food and drink were abundant and the more formal dancers were a prologue for the raunchier proceedings as the sun went down. With Hinano translating, the chief asked about England and I watched both their eyes grow wide as I attempted to describe London. I talked of buildings taller than trees and wider than this entire village. I mentioned bridges and paved roads and drew a picture of a horse in the sand. It was difficult to describe how many people lived there in numbers that were beyond their comprehension but they were shocked as they began to understand. Hinano had an interesting question that I did not have an answer for. She asked if a single life is less important when there are so many. My focus went to the dancing in front of me. I realized that the current group of dancers were not a part of the village as I had never seen them before. They must be a troupe of travelling entertainers and they were definitely entertaining. They was a story behind their dancing and it was an erotic story. At one point, I wasn’t sure if a couple of them were actually having sex as the others surrounded them. There was one, in particular, that caught my attention. She was just so young and fresh but she danced so lasciviously. Her eyes, in one moment, could be so innocent but , in the next, so lustful. I could not stop watching her and she seemed to appreciate my attention. Her breasts were not yet full but enough for a handful. They were so round and proud and high on her narrow, fragile chest but, in profile, they were so pointed that they almost looked dangerous. Her hips were femininely flared but her frame was just too frail and her legs too thin to be fully grown. The light of the blazing fire glistened on her skin and reflected in her dark eyes. The fire seemed to be inside her and I imagined her touch as burning. She was just so young. I wanted her so badly but my conscience nagged. I had found the forbidden fruit of this paradise but, so far, nothing has been forbidden. When their dance was over, I continued to watch her hungrily at the side and she glanced back at me pensively. She gave me one long look and turned around to disappear into the darkness. I followed her instinctively. I did not think to excuse myself from my host or even think at all. My heart was pounding louder and faster than the drums and my feet led the way. Behind the village, in the silver light of the full moon, my eyes strained into the shadows. Then, a snap of a twig that must have been intentional directed my way. I found her kneeling, like a petite flower, in a grassy clearing amongst the bushes. She smiled at me in a way that was both delicate and knowingly wanton. She was still half naked and she faintly giggled as I walked to her. She held up her hand and I was about to take it and join her on the ground when she cupped my groin. I stood there as she fumbled with the buttons and her face just inches away from my growing member. She had probably never dealt with buttons before and by the time she got them undone, I had almost been undone, myself. She stroked it gently at first and then kissed softly. She kissed the tip and along the shaft and then her tongue darted between her lips. She returned to the tip and engulfed it in her mouth. Her hot mouth was such a contrast to the cool night air on my saliva dampened shaft. She sucked me in like an undertow and legs were unsteady from waves of pleasure. I could stand no longer and collapsed to the ground. The girl wasted no time at regaining her lips on me and I grabbed her head in my hands, pushing it deeper. She sucked and rubbed her tongue against me as if she were a calf on an udder. It didn’t take long for me to provide the cream. She just kneeled there as I moaned contentedly. I gestured her toward me and she surprised me by sitting on top of me. I wasn’t ready to go again but it wouldn’t take long with that view. I reached up, compelled to touch those amazing tits. I was gentle at first but was overwhelmed with the soft, firm, sensual and practical nature of them. I clenched them and squeezed them together and pinched the nipples until she squealed in pain. I did not intend to hurt her, I just forgot who they belonged to. I begged for her absolution with a kiss. I pulled her head toward me and touched my lips to hers. She returned the kiss with passion I had never known. She wasn’t kissing me, she was devouring me. She pressed her entire body against me and her previous feather-like weight made it difficult to breathe. I was being ravished and I liked it. I tugged at what I can only call a scarf that was tied around her waste and grabbed her taut ass. Again, I squeezed and pinched and she groaned but not in pain. She grinded her hips as she continued to molest my tongue with hers. I rubbed a finger into the damp pubic hair and along the folds. When I touched the little bump of her clitoris, she bit my nose. It didnt hurt but it scared me. I pushed my finger inside her and she grabbed onto it and grinded herself up to the knuckle. She gripped my finger so tightly, I wondered how I was going to fit. Her passion was almost overwhelming but it was also inspiring and I was back to being fully inspired. I pushed her back and undid the buttons on my tunic but could not remove it while lying on my back. I attempted to roll both of us over but she did not go for it. Understandable, the ground was cool and damp but there was no way she was going to be on top. Not today. She kneeled beside me as Í sat up and removed my shirt. She moved to climb over me again but I held her shoulders as I slipped behind her. Apparently, she liked this idea and poised herself for me to enter. I pushed in slowly. I had to, but once in, it fit just right. Enthused by her passion, I pushed hard and fast. Probably too hard. It was hard to tell, her ass was so firm that it would not shake. She was pushed off her knees and, now, those globes of her ass jiggled. Despite her pure animal lust, like Hinano, she was very quiet. I could barely hear her little moans. Unfortunately, I was not as controlled. We went our separate ways and I returned to the village to find the festivities winding down. Hinano had disappeared. The chief also departed as soon as I came back. Only a few of the crew were still around but they were well occupied. I was alone and wondered where I was to sleep. June 19, 1769 I returned to the fort alone after having spent the night under the stars. Hinano refused to return with me. Obviously she knew and she was hurt. By the end of a long walk, I had redefined many of my notions and presumptions. I had been so wrong. I had done so wrong. They were just so different. Different skin, different beliefs, different ways but the same feelings. I thought of them as less than English and less than human and, still, I fell in love. Perhaps, the heart is quicker than the mind. I almost turned around and walked back to plead for her forgiveness but the captain will be returning soon and we would be leaving. Perhaps, it was for the best. June 24, 1769 The return of the Endeavour does not bring the wind back in my own sails as I expected. A chapter ends but the book continues. This time, the captain sets anchor off the point and in plain sight of the fort. The captain, himself, was first to step ashore and he praised me on the fort. Not even that could make me happy. I just thanked him as if the work were meaningless. In the second boat was the astronomer who got busy setting up a telescope and a sextant and other gadgets. This was the real purpose of our voyage, to observe the transit of Venus as it will not happen again in our lifetimes. It will take three weeks and that seemed like a lifetime right now. Every day and, especially every night, I was tempted to go see Hinano. They welcomed us because they thought we were to be their allies and our guns would protect them from their enemies. I misled my intentions all the way into her family and was preparing to abandon her. Mr. Scuggins told me of their travels while they were away. The natives they encountered were not nearly as friendly. They were attacked numerous times and no amount of gesturing would dissuade them. We had already become the allies of their enemies. There were no major casualties among the crew but dozens and maybe hundreds of natives had fallen in front of our guns and cannons. However, they had developed an extensive map of the area. “I envy you, I really do”, I told him, “I would have preferred to be in battle than stuck here”. “I heard that it wasn’t so bad”, he said with a smirk. “It’s a long way from home”, I answered. “It’s a fuckin’ paradise. Didn’t you realize that?”, he scoffed. “Not for me”, I answered cryptically and walked away. July 10, 1769 I find myself leading a search for two deserters, Mr Gibson and Mr. Webb had decided they preferred this place to their home and, more importantly, their duty. There is a part of me that would wish them good luck and good bye but I have my duty as well. We have two days to find them. After that, the natives are planning another feast and the captain does not intend to let them know it was to be a farewell party. I was relieved to leave discreetly. If I must leave, then I would prefer not to see her beautiful face once more. How could I ask her to forgive me and then depart forever? Actually, there was nothing I wanted more. Almost nothing. Not anything I could do anything about. I am an officer and I must set my obligations above my own desires. July 14, 1769 Now under full sail and the island is long out of sight. The two deserters had been captured and disciplined severely. The captain insisted to make them an example. It was odd when we found them because they resisted by shooting at us. There were twenty guns pointed at them and they were likely to be killed but they preferred that to leaving. Had I not dropped my gun and walked out to them to explain that, they would be dead. The danger and the irony of that didn’t occur to me until later. I wasn’t trying to commit suicide. Neither was I trying to be a hero. It’s funny, but when I finally developed some inner clarity, the rest of the world became surreal. The danger just seemed like part of some ridiculous play and I was just an actor. The original purpose of the voyage had been a failure due to the weather and inadequate equipment but the charting of the area should be considered a success, by itself. Mr. Banks, too, was quite proud of his samples and classifications. Apparently, he had done a lot of work between bottles. I, on the other hand, leave behind an abandoned fort and my innocence. In return, I get guilt and a lightened burden of hope. The crew, like myself, toil in silence, distracted by loss and unsatisfied in memories. We leave paradise behind because we do not belong there and I am still favouring that I should leave this log to the sea.