Pele's Fire: Phantom Lover 16, page 1
Pele’s Fire
(Phantom Lover, # 16)
By A.J. Llewellyn
Cover Art: Karrie Jax
Third Edition, Published Deccember 2023
The Pele Press
ASIN: B0C86S52BQ
Kimo and Lopaka return for their sixteenth paranormal adventure involving Pele the Volcano Goddess, a haunted theater, some pesky ghosts, crazy-hot man love and…bon-bons?
Kimo Wilder, Honolulu’s hottest kahuna, longs for the simple life. He adores his husband, Lopaka, and their three rambunctious children, but sometimes, he dreams of peace and quiet. When he and Lopaka watch Ferris Bueller’s Day Off on TV, Kimo becomes obsessed with taking it easy. He longs to relax, think about nothing more than having sex with Lopaka and eating candy. He reckons he could have been a swell fry cook on Venus…only Goddess Pele has other ideas.
After a frightening dream in which Kimo glimpses how his life would be had he never met Lopaka, he eases up on his workload and takes his husband out on a date to a local movie theater. It’s not something they normally do, neither is it a place they’ve frequented before. They encounter some unusual ghosts, which everybody but Lopaka can see and a haunting that well…challenges all of Kimo’s notions of having a vacation…
Dedication
To Becky and “Haleiwa” Joe who first told me about the haunting that inspired this tale. Thank you for allowing me to borrow your experience. Kimo and Lopaka are grateful.
And:
To my awesome Facebook pals who provided me with the fodder for Kimo and Lopaka’s children and the TV shows they would probably watch. Thanks to Amber Kell, Kelly Sutherland Cassell, Phoenix Hell, Kei Sama, Lynn Cooper-Baker, Arzu Aydemir, Elisabeth Staab, Erin Sinclair, Nichelle Gregory, Patricia Logan, Stacie Lindsay, Saranna de Wylde, Vheeance II, Aleya “Allie” Thomas, Rebecca Leigh, Stacy Wilson, Louisa Bacio, Victoria Reyes, Cynthia Bégin, Silvia Violet, Mahalia Levey, Tamara Tel-va and Shelli Rodgers.
Thank you all!
CHAPTER 1
I knew it was a dream, but even though it was, events unfolded, it seemed to me, in real time. Believe me, even as I dreamed it, I knew it was weird and fanciful, but then who among us controls our dreams? I found myself in Starbucks in Waikiki. I’ve lived in Waikiki for most of my adult life, my childhood having been spent on the Big Island of Hawaii. I moved to Waikiki before there even was a Starbucks. I feel safe in saying I was one of the first patrons there since my bachelor pad, a studio apartment in a high-rise tower on Kalakaua Avenue, was right around the corner.
As a matter of fact, Starbucks in Waikiki, the one right down the east end as far as you can go before winding up in the water, has played a huge part in my adult life, especially the dating part. When I was single, I got guys to meet me there. I’d give them as long as it took to drink a cup of coffee before giving them more time or escaping into the warm, tropical evening. Most of the time, I left alone.
Now I’m married to the most amazing man in the world, my husband, Kimo Wilder, and our rare date nights usually end there. We snuggle over late night cups of hot chocolate or coffee and make our way home relieving our frazzled baby sitter of our three adorable, but rambunctious, children.
So it wasn’t unusual for me, really, to dream about being at Starbucks, but it was unusual that I would be dreaming about meeting another man. For a date. I watched in surprise as our favorite gay porn star, Rafael Carreras, sauntered into the café, his gaze fixed firmly on me. It’s not that I’m chopped liver or anything, but I knew it had to be a dream for Rafael Carreras to be gazing at me like I was his sexual lunch.
Kimo looks at me that way, but then, I am his sexual lunch.
There was also the fact Rafael wore only white underpants. The same, dazzling, hide-nothing, inappropriately skimpy, clinging briefs he wore in the Michael Lucas movie Passion. I say inappropriate because as casual and open as Waikiki is, I felt certain a man strutting around in his underpants wasn’t cool. In a dream, of course, it was fabulous.
He began licking my face the way he’d licked the window glass in the movie. Because I knew it wasn’t real, I went along with it. Rafael, whose heavy-lidded eyes and big juicy lips spell sex, was looking at me with raw hunger. He invited me to suck his cock. I opened and closed my mouth. I don’t recall either of us having a beverage in front of us. Another indication this was all far-fetched. Starbucks in Waikiki is always busy. Even with a full cup of coffee in front of you, the seat vultures circle you, waiting to pounce on your table. I didn’t know what to say. Rafael Carreras was our fantasy third in a hot threesome Kimo and I often acted out. But here I was, feeling hot under the collar. My first thought was, “Oh, yummy. Cock!” My second thought was, “Where’s Kimo?”
I looked around and couldn’t see him. Rafael kept talking. His heavy Cuban accent was such a turn on, especially when he kept saying how sexy I was. Of course it was a dream. If it hadn’t been, Kimo would have turned him into a toadstool. What a waste that would have been! I began to wonder why I was dreaming of Rafael Carreras. I realized I was feeling a little neglected. Kimo had been working so hard lately. Between the school we ran and his healing commitments as a kahuna, sometimes, I came in last.
He didn’t mean to neglect me. He loves me dearly. But with three small children, I’ve tried hard to make sure they get time with him as soon as he comes home. We still had our raging hot sexual connection, but sometimes he can barely keep his eyes open long enough to have dinner with the kids. He’s so tired, he sometimes falls asleep if I don’t jump right into bed with him.
There have been a few times, too, where we’ve had words…or rather, opposing views, on things. For example, our three-year-old toddler, Pele, named for our beloved Hawaiian volcano Goddess, has a fierce temper. She recently got mad when her tricycle tire blew out. She has magic in her, that child. Serious magic. She’s not supposed to perform any in front of other children but she could easily have waved her hand and inflated the tire. Instead, she got mad and with one flick, set fire to her tricycle!
I told Kimo since I felt we needed to set a disciplinary action together. Instead, he acted all happy and proud that she was making such good use of her unique abilities. I wasn’t happy. I wanted her to learn some self-control.
Kimo. My darling Kimo. I tried to turn off the dream, but the idea of getting male attention and a hot cock to suck became too much. I glanced around the café and that’s when I saw my husband. He stood outside the café, his face glued to the window, watching us.
I forced myself awake.
Thankfully, Kimo was busy watching a movie. I’d fallen asleep in his arms. Thank God he hadn’t noticed. He sighed and pulled away from me slightly to power off the remote on the closing credits of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. It was a fun movie, but it seemed to trouble Kimo.
“What’s wrong?” I asked my hot, hung, Hawaiian god of a man. He kissed the top of my head. It was the first time in months that we’d actually gotten to watch a movie all the way through. And I had to go and fall asleep. He’d been so stressed out lately with so much required of him, that it had been my pleasure to find him a movie that made him laugh so much.
He’d adored Ferris’s antics, enjoying his attitude, not to mention the dialogue.
“His friends think he should be a fry cook on Venus!” Kimo had exploded, laughing like a little kid. “How cool!” He loved the scene where the schoolteacher wandered down the corridor trailing toilet paper behind him.
I enjoyed the movie, not as much as Kimo did, but then I’d seen it a million times already and this was his first viewing. Kimo had a difficult, different life growing up since he’d been raised in the ways of Spirit and had spent his formative years studying medicine, hula, magic and Hawaiian lore.
Having our own three, wonderful children seemed a great way for me to give my husband back some of the childhood he’d missed. He got to watch the great classics with them like Pinocchio, which he’d never seen as a child. He tore open Christmas presents and birthday presents with manic glee—even the gifts that weren’t his—and the kids have largely become accustomed to his hogging all the cool toys.
He adores birthday cake. My grandma, Tutu, and I often make birthday cake with frothy pink passion fruit frosting and call it an Unbirthday Cake. We try always to keep it on hand. With Kimo’s name on it, of course.
He’s very generous with his cakes, sticking candles in them, lighting them up and then he and the kids blow them out, making tons and tons of wishes. Now, our little darlings were tucked in their beds and I was hoping Kimo would untuck me.
I wanted a little fun since I’d been so good and kind and had not sexually molested him once during the movie. But he was oblivious. He lay beside me naked, as majestic as ever, all six feet, four inches of him. He was so fucking gorgeous it was hard not to interfere with his person. I mean, he has the biggest, most delicious cock I’ve ever seen. His abs are perfect. His hands are big and gentle and his face…his face! I love everything about his face. His body is perfect. One look at him and I’m instantly ready for sex. It’s been like that since the day I first glimpsed him dancing the hula on stage. Back then, I never dreamed he’d be mine. Now, he lay in our bed, grinning at me. We had, thanks to our strong psychic bond, many unusual, shared traits.
We could read each other’s minds. We could telepath thoughts to one another. We also had, thanks to his allegiance and therefore mine, to Goddess Pele, a physical bond, a fire branch. We can’t be physically separated fo r more than half an hour because we burn up. So, this means he works out of our house. This is both a blessing and a curse. He’s always near, yet mentally far away.
“Lopaka,” he suddenly said. “I’ve neglected you.”
Oh, shit. He knows about the dream!
“I’ve been thinking…school’s closed for summer next week. Three months, Mypaka. Three months! But on Saturday, we should have a special, private date, just the two of us.”
I blinked. Maybe he didn’t know about the dream. I started to relax. “I’d love that, Kimo.”
He smiled. “Good. But we’re not going to Starbucks for a while.”
I gasped. “You knew!”
He looked hurt. “Who looks better in his underpants? Me or…him?”
“Oh, God. Kimo. It’s no contest.” I was all over him then and he preened under my attention. I scrambled over his body in record time, ecstatic to see the special, lusty smile Kimo reserves just for me. His majestic cock got hard the second I started to touch him. He kissed me. I could taste ice cream and candy on his tongue.
“I’d be so happy to lie in bed for days fucking you and eating bon-bons,” he said, his voice sounding dreamy when he broke away from me.
“Lopaka, what exactly is a bon-bon?”
“Well, it’s a type of candy. A chocolate, I think.”
“You don’t sound very sure.”
“Oh, I’m sure. I just have other things on my mind right now.”
I moved in for another kiss, wanting to get him back on track. The dirty track.
“Will you make me bon-bons one day?”
“Sure. Of course. Soon.”
“When?”
I shut him up by sucking his cock. He began to gasp and moan. Just as I got him back onto the sex train with no stops in sight, the dreaded words came from outside our locked bedroom door.
“Daddy?”
It was Pele.
Kimo, who lay back on our bed, eyes closed in ecstasy, opened an eye and looked at me.
“Daddy?” her little voice sounded so pathetic and lonesome. Talk about a cock-block.
“She’s fine,” Kimo whispered. “She just wants a hug. I can put her to sleep until we finish.”
“Okay,” I said. Next thing I heard was a loud thunk.
“Oh, my God, Kimo. My baby!” I started to get out of bed.
“Heavy sleeper,” he deadpanned. “She’ll be okay, Mypaka. Focus.”
Boy, he could be a bad kahuna sometimes. I began to lick his cock, Kimo instantly at attention in all good ways. I loved sucking his cock and not just because my name was tattooed on it. He had the thickest, biggest, juiciest one I’d ever seen and I always got a thrill just touching my tongue to it. I licked around the huge head, taunting him. I’d seduced him with my oral skills and enjoyed giving him pleasure this way. Having him inside me, of course, totally rocked my boat, but for pure physical sensation, nothing beat the way Kimo’s whole body reacted when he was in the throes of an orgasm.
I let him wedge the cock head past my waiting lips and sucked him halfway into my mouth. I released him, loving the way he cried out in frustration. When I worked on building the pleasure for him, I teased him this way, but once he was into it, too far gone to be tortured, I never stopped for anything.
Sucking him back in again, I could feel his shaft pulsing and tensing the way I wanted it to. I allowed my tongue to glide back up to the head, licking his sweet little hole. Another cry escaped his throat. I dropped down, tonguing and kissing his balls. As hula dancers with skimpy costumes, we’d waxed completely. Now that we aren’t performing, he’s allowed a little hair to grow back because he knows I enjoy it. He has long dark hair past his shoulders and so do I. I allowed him to grab my head, his fingers in my hair.
He fucked my face and I felt the taste of his delicious juices tickling the back of my throat. I pulled back with my lips, driving him crazy. I took my time pulling back and plunging back down until he couldn’t take anymore.
Kimo bucked against me, his cock erupting in my throat. I let my muscles relax, surprised as ever that I could take his huge length in my mouth all the way. I swallowed as much as I could, focusing on breathing.
My husband’s body went limp, his hands still in my hair. He was still hard when I pulled my mouth away, swallowing and breathing gulps of air.
He drifted to sleep, a big grin on his face. I scuttled out of bed, threw on my board shorts and found our daughter lying on the floor outside our bedroom door, our dogs, Maui and Molokai curled up beside her. Both dogs’ tails started thumping madly. I patted them both and as I picked up Pele in my arms, they hurled themselves right past me and into our room.
Pele slept on, feeling very, very hot against my skin. She burned up all the time, which was typical of her. I knew I had more to fear from her being cold than feeling feverish. I kissed her sweet little head. Her golden hair smelled like papaya, her new favorite shampoo. I tucked her into bed, watching her beautiful face to make sure she stayed asleep.
I tiptoed back to our room and found both dogs and our two boys snuggling beside Kimo. I fought in vain for a small patch in our bed. Yeah, as far as I was concerned, our sexy Saturday night date couldn’t come fast enough. I wondered if Tutu would mind babysitting long enough for us to rent a hotel room for some fast and thirsty action before we came home. In spite of being cramped, I fell asleep with a smile on my face, dreaming of Kimo in his underwear at Starbucks.
***
On Saturday, I awoke bright and early, attending to our kids who jumped on us before dawn even broke. Pele wore nothing but red bikinis except when she was in her pre-school classes. The only way I could get the kid to wear a dress or a pair of pants was if she was allowed to wear her bikini under them. She slept in her bikini and threw on a sarong when she climbed out of bed each morning. We had bought her thirty different red bikinis so she always had clean ones, but I pitied whoever she married because she had such a strong will. Very strong.
I sometimes gave in to her out of sheer exhaustion and because she once set fire to my eyebrows in a bad fit of hysteria over my insistence that she wear a pair of sneakers on a trip to the Honolulu Zoo. Granted, her tears were pitiful and her remorse genuine, after the fact, but I’ve never forgotten the fear and pain of my face being set ablaze…by my toddler.
She suffered for her transgression. No TV for a week. She cried knowing she was missing out on her favorite show, Ni Hao, Kai-lan. She tore at my heart begging me, clutching her little passport and toy koala, two of the marketing gimmicks…er, I mean whimsical, unique learning accessories, for the show.
“Please, Mama, please…”
We stood firm and, so far, she has resisted setting fire to any more people. Inanimate objects will be her next no-go zone. I’ve learned to keep my daughter smiling. A frown can cost you eyebrows that don’t grow back at the same rate. Or worse. Her twin brother, Kamapua’a, or, Kamapu, as we all call him, is a divine child. Sweet, quiet, and fun, even he has no power over our headstrong girl. The only person in our house who can sweet-talk her is our oldest son, five-year-old Little Kimo.
Pele is berserk about her big brother. Little Kimo is the man. She follows him everywhere. He can guide her in a persuasive way Kimo and I have yet to fathom, but we’re just grateful we have such a fantastic boy.
Little Kimo has powers and abilities that are astonishing. He is gifted beyond his years. Each of our children has a singular talent. Little Kimo is drawn to healing, animals in particular. Kamapu has a strong relationship with our ancestors. He’s only recently shown us this aspect of his true nature. He shares this trait of communicating with ghosts with his seven-year-old cousin, Keli’i, who is my twin sister, Maluhia’s son.
Pele, as mentioned, makes fire. She’s a chip off the old burning wood block. She will be a powerful kahuna in her own right soon enough. She will have the power to heal and affect great change…if she doesn’t burn down the entire island of Oahu first.
All three kids attacked us with hugs and kisses. School was out for summer. I just couldn’t wait to spend all our time with them. We’d take them swimming, surfing, canoeing, picnicking…but first I had me a hot date with my best guy.
