My Rocky Relationship with Sheila--Part 3 of 4 - Sex Stories

My Rocky Relationship with Sheila--Part 3 of 4

... for several minutes, building within each other the forces we would need to bring us both to our orgasm. Nan had gone off birth control more than a month ago and we were both extremely hopeful, but we had no way of knowing if our efforts would succeed. In the meantime it would be practice, practice, practice. We were a sweaty mess a few minutes later when we exploded together. I came so hard I was afraid I’d hurt Nan, but all she did was whisper, “I can’t move, Tom. That was so good. Move me, will you, dear and tuck me in.” I moved her head to the pillow, climbed into the other side, and moved against her naked sweaty body. I slept like the dead for the first time in days. We enjoyed our days in Waikiki, although our tour of Oahu was understandably sobering when we visited the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial. We stood for several minutes in front of the long list of more than 1100 casualties when I pointed out one of the several Williams listed. “That was my grandfather’s brother. I obviously never had the chance to meet him, but my grandpa told me he was a wonderful brother and person.” Nan squeezed my hand and kissed my cheek. A few minutes later our tour group was called to the tender to continue our tour. We loved the beach even though it was crowded. There were surfers, although not where we were swimming and we even took a ride on a Hawaiian war canoe. After paddling at a leisurely pace until we were about a half mile from shore we turned around and were told to paddle at a ...

... sprint—what they called “ramming speed” in Roman times. We paddled for all we were worth even as Nan laughed like crazy. She couldn’t believe we had actually paid to work like galley slaves. Pretty soon we were traveling fast enough to stop. We rode the crest of a wave all the way to shore. What a blast! Too soon we were in the air again en route to Kauai. We stayed at another Sheraton, this time in Poipu on the southern edge of the island. I’d read that Kauai was the oldest of the Hawaiian Islands. As such it had the most spectacular landscapes—and the most coral reefs on its beaches. Some of them were “Not Recommended” for swimming; others were just downright dangerous. I’d never willingly endanger Nan—I’d rather die first—so we headed south to the only part of the island known for excellent swimming. The beach was deserted except for a few unexpected visitors—Hawaiian monk seals—that spent their day sleeping in an area of the beach that had been blocked off with traffic cones. We made plans our second day to take an island tour, one that included a helicopter flight. We began with a three-hour bus tour, stopping at a shell factory where we were “treated” to a complimentary shell lei. After a demonstration of piercing and stringing the tiny shells we were free to wander the aisles of shell jewelry. “Like this,” I asked Nan, holding up a multi-strand necklace. “Um…not really. It’s okay, but….” I kissed her cheek, telling her, “I’m glad,” as I showed her the price tag--$1,450. ...