Chapter 2

A sharp fear speared my heart, but I could not look away. Puanani’s tits were as magnificent as I imagined. Her nipples, brown like the skin of coconut, were hard, standing at perfect attention, as if to demand that someone suck on them.

“Hey girl, my eyes are up here,” Puanani giggled.

My widened eyes went from her nipples to her eyes, which I realized were the same color.

“Umm….,” I whimpered pitifully, like I was back in elementary school and my teacher had just told me to go up and answer the long division problem on the chalkboard.

“Relax. Just bustin’ your balls, yeah?” She laughed. “But you look like you never seen a pair these before,” she said, jiggling her small tits playfully.

“No. I have!” I replied, my voice cracking.

She snorted and covered her laugh. “Duh. You have a nice set right under your nose.”

I’m sure my face was beet red. My heart was palpitating like someone had just shocked it with a defibrillator. Sweat began to bead along my hairline.

“Relax, Roz! I’m still just playing around with you. You’re so damn cute right now, you know?”

And you’re so hot Puanani, I could just lick you like a lilikoi popsicle.

“No, I’m not,” I muttered, shrinking back.

My eyes kept darting to her amazing Hawaiian tits. I couldn’t help it. They were like a solar eclipse. They were astounding. They were magnificent to behold. Blindingly so.

“You know you should try it,” she said.

“Take off your top. I mean, if you wanna.”

“Oh, um, nope. No way. I could never do that!”

“Why the heck not?” She frowned.

“It’s just that… I mean… we’re on a public beach and all and,”

“There’s no one around, Roz. Come on. It’s so hot right now, but the breeze is so nice, yeah? Let ’em enjoy the breeze. Let them free!”

Crazily, now that she mentioned it, I really did want to take my top off. But more than to free my nipples to the cool Hawaiian breeze, I wanted Puanani to see them. I wanted her to be turned on by them.

I took another glance around. The couple had gone out of view. A couple of surfer boys had come and jumped into the water with their surfboards, out past the breakers now, paddling like a pair of dogs out there. Too far out to see my little titties. The coast was clear, so, with a large gulp, I reached back and pulled my bikini top lace loose. I shut my eyes and let out a nervous sigh as I tossed my bikini aside.

“My, oh my,” Puanani said, her eyes darting from one breast to the other. “Looking good, Roz. Looking real good.”

“Thanks.” I giggled sheepishly. My nipples were so dang tight. I was tempted to rub away the tightness, but I resisted. I just let them stay all tight and hard.

Puanani leaned back on her elbows, cool as can be. She popped open her red and white Igloo cooler and took out a popsicle.

I shook my head. “No, I’m good now.”

I was too focused on getting used to having my nipples out in public to think about having another popsicle.

“Suit yourself,” she said, unwrapping the popsicle.

She put it in her mouth and sucked on it, her cheeks pulling inward.

“Mmm, tasty,” she said smacking her lips after popping the popsicle out of her mouth.

“You sure you don’t want one?”

I shook my head. Nope. I’ll just watch you have yours.

She took another long drag on the popsicle.

“Don’t be so nervous, Roz. You have nice tits!”

“Don’t be nervous? I just met you and somehow, you’ve seduced me into taking my top off and now you’re complimenting my tits. Shouldn’t I be nervous?”

She slid the popsicle out of her mouth. It came out shaped like a spear point.

“Depends. Are you afraid I might misbehave?” She bit her lower lip. Her eyes went to my nipples. I witnessed a gleam of a naughty desire to misbehave in those creamy cocoa irises.

“Maybe,” I answered.

“Huh,” she responded, thinning her lips into a slant. She turned her eyes back to the ocean, like a cat that suddenly loses interest in you as soon as you start paying it any attention, sliding the spear-pointed popsicle back into her mouth.

When she pulled the popsicle out of her mouth again, it came out with a thin string of saliva attached. The saliva broke off to dribble down her chin. She wiped it away with her forearm.

“Well, if I do something that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me, yeah? On that note, you wanna know a fun thing to do to cool off when it’s hot like this?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the horizon.

In light of her impish grin, and the rhetorical nature of the question, I suspected that the question was very much related to something that could very much make me feel uncomfortable. It became clear to me that she was the sort of person that was more than happy to test my limits.

My heart raced a thousand miles an hour.

“Want me to show you?”

She watched me with faux innocence. She held her popsicle in an enticing way, wagging it in the air to give some suggestion that whatever her answer was, it must involve the popsicle. Turns out, I totally hit the nail on the head.

“Remember, if I ever make you feel uncomfortable, all you got to do is let me know.”

“Ok,” I replied meagerly. She was definitely making me feel uncomfortable already, but by all means, I wanted her to continue.

She giggled. Her nose scrunched up. She glanced left then right to make sure the sandy coast was still clear. Then, when she determined that the level of privacy was appropriate, she allowed the popsicle to wander towards her breasts.

My eyes widened as the popsicle inched closer to one of her taut nipples.

“Sometimes, I like to cool myself off like this.”

The icy, half-melted spear-point, dribbling its yellow passion fruit stickiness onto her suntanned skin, dove in like a dive bomber. She uttered a small whimper, and flinched when the tip of the popsicle touched the very tip of her nipple.

She ran the popsicle in circles around her nipple, smearing onto her areola a glistening sheen of melted passion fruit syrup, presumably cooling herself off in the process. I began to boil like a steam kettle. If I had a blouse on, I’d flap the collar madly in a vain effort to cool myself off. But I didn’t have a blouse on. I didn’t even have any top on! My tits, as bare as hers were, hardened up frigidly as if they were the subject of some sort of psychokinesis test. As if some mystical power channeled the icy feeling from her nipples to mine. My pussy was dripping wet. It was throbbing. And in my head screamed a thousand voices, begging me to lick off the syrupy mess she was making all over her tiny titties.

She worked the popsicle against one nipple, and then the other while sweat streamed down my face.

“Looks enticing, yeah?”

My answer was a deer in the headlights gaze. She took that as a yes.

“Give it a try,” she said, nodding towards her cooler.

“I don’t want to waste one of your popsicles.”

She shrugged. “Won’t be a waste. But if you’re worried about that, we can share mine.”

She didn’t wait for a response to steer the popsicle towards my heaving tits. I gasped and recoiled. She momentarily withdrew the popsicle but seeing that I didn’t run off or otherwise snub her advances, she moved in again. I simply shut my eyes and held my breath in eager anticipation of the ice-cold touch of that popsicle.

It touched me. I squeaked like a chew toy. Puanani giggled. “So nice, yeah?”

First, she rubbed small slippery circles on the very tip of my nipple. Gradually, the circles grew wider until they encapsulated all of my relatively small areola. Then wider still, until she was tracing sugary orbitals around the entire (tiny) expanse of my breast. All the while, juicy streams ran cold against my skin, gravity pulling the juice down my body in wild wandering paths, some down the side of my ribs, others down my stomach into my bikini bottom or to pool into my belly button.

“Nnnnh,” I moaned from the explosively numbing sensation of the iciness. It was actually a little painful. But it was a good sort of painful. I just didn’t know how much more I could take. Or should take. I wondered what the medical advice on this was. At what point did frostbite set it? Could I lose my nipple? I didn’t know the clear answer, yet here I was, willing to take such extreme risks. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing going through my mind. Aside from experiencing the intense thrill of daring only the likes of Sir Ernest Shackleton could comprehend, I was experiencing a transformation, being fully beguiled by the crumbling glacier of all my preconceived notions of erotic pleasure at the hands of the cutest Kamai’ina girl on the North Shore and her lilikoi popsicles.

Puanani went to the other nipple and began to trace icy circles there.

“Oh God!” I squealed.

When she had finished leaving a mess and my breasts were numb and sticky, she put the popsicle to my lips.

“It’s dripping too much,” she said. “Suck it?”

Without resisting her ridiculous request, I wrapped my lips around the tip of the ever-shrinking popsicle. She pushed it gently deeper into my mouth. Then she pumped it in and out, because of course, that’s how people normally eat popsicles.

“Felt good, yeah?” she asked as she continued pumping the popsicle in and out of my mouth. I gave a popsicle-muffled response. “Mmf-hmm.”

“I love that you enjoyed it,” she responded. “Wanna know what else I like to do on a hot day?”

I gasped for air when she took the popsicle out of my mouth. “Yeah,” I breathed, watching desperately for her answer.

She lowered her head towards my breasts, filling me with pure terror.

“What are you doing?” I wheezed, spitting the popsicle out of my mouth.

She continued her advance, positioning herself above me while I shrunk beneath her.

“Cleaning the mess up I made,” she said. “Can’t have you be all sticky.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Puanani.”

Like a predator vectoring in on her quarry, she shifted her eyes from my breasts to my eyes. She hovered above me now, her face inching ever closer to mine. She licked her chops.

“Why is it not a good idea, Roz? Give me one good reason.”

I’m a smart girl. I’m pretty decent in school. But one thing I always struggled with was getting cold called in class. For some reason, whenever I’m put in the spotlight, and asked to produce an answer, my tongue gets all tied up and my IQ goes left at least two standard deviations. I suck at being put on the spot. That was the problem I faced now. Puanani was putting me on the spot with a question that should have been easy to answer. Why wasn’t cleaning my breasts with, presumably, her mouth, not a good idea? A thousand possible answers fluttered around in my head, but I could not grasp any of them just like all the times I was ever cold called in class.

I left my mouth hanging open. She inched closer. I shut my eyes. She pressed her lips against mine. Her tongue slid into my mouth and touched my tongue. It was soft. It was warm. It tasted wonderful.