One Fine Day
Chapter 5
The kids were each sad to see their Dad leave for the next few days, and he gave each of them a big hug and kiss.
“Are you going to Honolulu?” Zeta asked.
“Can you bring me back a Hello Kitty purse, if you go to that store?” Jenny inquired.
“I want a Power Ranger Turbo Sword!” Nick requested.
“Whoa, whoa, I’m just going to work this time. I’m not going anyplace else until next month when we all get to go to the Mainland for my speech.”
“Will we get to see our cousins?” Alex asked. He and Tyler were thick as thieves.
“I talked to Aunt Cynthia a couple of days ago,” Mark told him, “and she said she’ll let her kids meet us in San Francisco.”
A chorus of “yay!“s went around the kids. San Francisco also meant a visit to their wonderful crazy uncles Colin and Riordan, and aunts Kathy and Dolores.
On the high note, Mark helped the cab driver fling his bags into the trunk, and they took off for town, and further transportation.
The helicopter was waiting for him at the hospital helipad, and he had the chance to catch a few ZZs as they cruised over the jungle and up to the snowy top of Mauna Kea. Well, not quite to the top. They reached the science campus and dormitory below the summit, buried in the side of the mountain.
Mauna Kea was considered a sacred mountain, and seemed to be considered increasingly more sacred in the past as each year progressed. There was a joke along that line about the Freemasons, that their roots extended back another 500 years for each decade they existed. To actually burrow into the mountainside had taken not only an act of congress, but an thorough vetting from the Ali’i of the islands and an environmental impact statement as thick as an arm-length.
In exchange for granting the site, the trio’s foundation agreed to fund an aggressive scheme to eradicate non-native species in delicate lands, and fund a massive effort to restore native crow habitats. Mark would have loved to do that anyway, and considered the ‘alala his sacred animal of the mind, his spirit animal. This way, the federal government kicked in another few million that would have gone somewhere else, instead.
By the time they landed, and he peeled open his eyes, and peeled off the sound dampeners, he was almost refreshed. He saw his secretary, Mina, waiting behind the glass of the observatory lounge, and said to himself, “It’s showtime!”
Mina was an thin Chinese girl, and while only about 4 ft 8, she exuded that sense of height only the extremely skinny can give off. She had almost no breasts, but firm, brown nipples, and an amazingly firm, round ass. The sprayed on pants she wore set those cheeks off so perfectly, and her silky yellow shirt whipped in the wind. Mina held the door for him, as he pulled his suitcase inside, and then closed the door on the cold air whipped up by the slowing rotors. She grabbed his laptop bag, and greeted him with a kiss. He grabbed her bottom and gave it a squeeze. They proceeded towards his office.
“So hot stuff,” he said. “How’s things here on the ground?”
“Good, good. You’ve got a 6 p.m. video conference with Parkes, Australia. They’ve gotten a good data stream out of the new array, and are waiting for your ‘attaboy’. Then I have you down for an early evening, as you’ve got call with Secretary Dellums at 4 am.”
“Ungh. Thanks. Well, I know you’ll be there to nudge me awake.”
“Not this time, baby. I’m getting a full night’s sleep tonight. I’ve been on the job all day while you’ve been poking your ponies for their anniversary. How are the wives?”
“They’re fine. They send their love. And Alex wants to marry you.”
“Well, I’d be honored to be his first, if that’s what he wants,” she replied.
“He’s almost old enough. I’m guessing he’s got the gene. But let’s see what’s up next time you’re at the house.”
The two exchanged news about the current projects, scuttlebutt about who hates whose funding levels, and further managerial yap yap until they approached the office.
“I have a surprise for you. Someone to kick you out of her bed in time for tomorrow,” Mina winked. “You’ve got a surprise guest who gets that honor.” She opened the door to his office. “Plus, she’s on mainland time.”
Mark entered to see waiting for him: “Liz! Holy dang! I didn’t know you were back in town.”
Liz P was a very freckly redheaded geologist from Oregon, who made occasional trips out to the facility to check it’s seismic integrity, look for new areas to dig, etc. She and Mark had met at a scientific conference planning for the dig, and had hit it off immediately. They had a number of favorite authors in common, had fun playing word games, and were great in the sack together. (The oral sex rocked!)
Liz was shorter than his wives, and could have stood to lose about 15 pounds, but exercise had never been her thing. When the genetic lottery was cast for the Golden Generation, she’d come up a winner in the tit department. Hers, however, were not just very large, but fairly loose as well, needing an enormous bra to hoist them in place. She also had a wide, soft ass that was fun to hold. She was literally hot in bed, her white, white skin almost glowing. She loved being on top, and Mark delighted in hefting her breasts for her as she rode fervently up and down his wide cock, stuffing herself full. After really hard sex they would spend long periods of time with their faces nestled between each others legs, licking each other lazily and telling stories.
Liz rose from the couch, and filled his arms. “I missed you, buddy boy.” She turned her face up for his kiss, and they spent a long time rubbing each other’s bottoms, licking and kissing their open mouths, and generally being wet and sloppy. It stretched on, as they would break from a kiss to go right into the next one, lips pressing, tongues wrestling.
“Shall I get you napkins so you can wipe up?” Mina asked.
“Cut me some slack,” Liz replied. “I haven’t had any in weeks.”
“And what, it’s been an hour for him?” Mina said, a touch archly. “Or did you screw the helicopter pilot?”
“He wasn’t my type,” Mark explained. “Jealous. This is my lot in life. To satisfy those with high standards and low morals. Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”
“I take it when I want it,” Liz told Mina. “I just love this cute ass. And don’t tell me you don’t get your share, Skinny Minny.” To Mark she asked, “Does she just sit in your lap when you dictate? Or do you both forget to wear pants.”
Mark fondled Liz back. “Mina and I have high pressure jobs. If the magic of the islands weaves its spell over us, don’t we deserve to blow off some steam?”
“You’re the one who blows steam,” Liz retorted. “Anyway, I’m here for a week, and I’m going to keep you boiling away as much as I can.”
Mina hopped up. “You’re warming each others’ beds tonight, but until then we have some of that high-pressure work to do,” She shooed Liz out, smacking her big bottom just as the door closed. There was an indignant squeal on the other side.
“Now,” Mark said, patting himself, “come sit on my lap little girl, so I can give you a big batch of very hard dictation.”
He settled himself onto the lower of two seats behind the desk. The afternoon sunlight poured in through the thick glass that kept the icy chill out. Mina followed him around the desk, perched herself lightly on his lap, and they kissed delicately for a few moments before reluctantly—
“Let’s get to it,” Mark sighed.
She skooched onto her chair next to his, and they went over his schedule for the next three days. He had one of the new gesture-screen computers that allowed them to maneuver & point to items as well as use keyboard & mouse.
Her chair was slightly taller than his, to even out their height differential, and they sat side-by-side in contact with each other. They finished in just over 20 minutes, and rested their hands on each other.
“If you want,” Mark suggested,” I could give your nipples a quick workout before we go.” They were slightly erect, as they often were, and on her it was pointless wearing a bra.
“No, you goat. Next you suggest a quick blowjob while making a few calls, and next thing you know I’m on my back on the desk with my feet on your shoulders, while someone’s knocking on the door, and there are 2 dozen impatient Australians waiting for me to come off.”
“It’s a bad habit I have, always trying to squeeze one more thing in.” he admitted.
“And you’re not going to squeeze it into me! Tomorrow. Now go to the video room, and get this over. Serves you right if you’ve got a boner through the conference. Save it for Liz, or one of your other chickies.”
As they separated in the hall, she gave him a peck on the cheek, and then stroked his cock through his pants, making his penis harder and more uncomfortable.
“I’ll get you, bitch,” He warned.
Her laughter followed him down the hallway.
He walked towards the video conference room, certain that everyone he met was snickering at him behind his back as he covered himself self-consciously with his notes. Maybe he could sit behind a desk. . .
In the conference room, he glanced towards the studio, and swore silently behind his smile. Behind the glass was Kimo on the camera, and Elizabeth C. on the sound board. Those bastards did everything they could to crack him up when he was in front of an audience.
They were students from down in the university who worked the rigs until they could graduate and head to Hollywood on the mainland. Kimo was a big hapa guy, half black, half portuguese, half Japanese and half Hawaiian—hapa everything, as they said. Elizabeth C. was a haole girl, originally from Kansas, who came to the islands for romance, and went home every Christmas to shock her parents with her now night-black hair and multiple piercings and tattoos.
As he got ready to chat with the Aussies about their array’s new contributions to radio astronomy, shuffling through his notes, he saw the kids fire up the remote-control cameras. They started chuckling and conferring with themselves.
“I’m gonna bring up the monitors,” Kimo said, lighting up the TV screens that went with each camera. Mark saw his face on the monitor, from three quarters, then switch to face-on as the camera swung around, it’s red light glowing.
“Can I get a sound check,” Elizabeth asked, as the monitor for the full-body shot came on.
“Check, check,” Mark said. The full body camera monitor started zooming in, below the waist, focusing on his erection through his pants.
Elizabeth asked, “Can you try that again. Can you say ‘Cock, cock’ If it’s not too hard!” She busted up, and Kimo immediately followed suit.
“We’re closing in on the rare Hawai’ian Trouser Snake,” Kimo intoned, in his best BBC voice. “Normally very shy, they only come out at night, viewing their surroundings through their single eye, looking for their prey, the Greater Furry Muff.”
“Shh, quiet,” Elizabeth C. shushed her boyfriend, “You’ll make it go into hiding! Hey, you’re losing focus. I know what’ll make it stand right out. You need to adjust the controls.” With that, she grabbed the bottom of her shirt & pulled upwards, revealing her pair of good-sized breasts, sparkling with the rings running through her nipples.
Kimo grasped the right one and twisted it slightly, and damned if Mark’s cock didn’t stand out in higher relief on the screen. Of course at the same moment the test feed came in from Australia. The cherry-red light on the camera pointed at his crotch lingered a micro-second before switching over to face view. In the studio Kimo had his hands on both of her tits, and was rubbing them enthusiastically. With the camera set there was little to do but tweak & twitch his girlfriend’s nipples while his boss looked on.
There was a monitor feed from the conference room in Parkes, and they seemed oblivious of any hijinks in Hawai’i. He recognized all of his colleagues and friends, but there were a few new faces.
Two familiar faces, smiling nicely, were Anne and Rebecca, two blondes he’d met at a Southern hemisphere conference in Sydney. Dr. Anne G. was a short, thin woman with white-blonde hair who ran the Australian Seti team out of Parkes. Rebecca was taller, with a wider face, curvy hips and good firm breasts. She looked like an erotic version of Alice in Wonderland. She was the public relations manager for the site, responsible for making sure the scope was in the public eye. It certainly didn’t hurt that she was a looker.