Naked Portraits Pt. 02

Hello Literotica reader, welcome to part two. Sorry for the two year break. Life demanded my full attention for a while. I submitted a new edit for part one but essentially it is the same story and hopefully a little cleaner. The big change to part one is an added introduction. I will repeat the same introduction here. For those of you who have already read the introduction from part one, skip ahead to the story. And for those of you who hate reading introductions ... well, you're are not reading this and have already skipped ahead so never mind.

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Introduction from part one.

The original edit of this story was published two years ago here at Literotica. I had help from a cool volunteer editor. She put a polish on the piece that made all the difference. I've never thanked her properly and I'm embarrassed to say that I've lost my emails from that time and cannot recall her name. If you are still around, please drop me a note in the comments so that I can thank you properly.

I stopped writing Naked Portraits for a spell because my life demanded my full attention. I'm back behind the laptop again and went back to read part one. The characters were interesting but a bit too sketchy. I sent in a new edit imbedding fresh details.

Part two is done and ready for launch. In fact, the whole story is done, all three hundred thousand plus words. Yeah ... I know ... obsess much you say? Anyway, below is a short history of how this story came to be. It's not long, just two pages and almost as interesting as the story I wrote ... well not quite. There is no sex in my brief history.

A few years back I worked as a temp at a company that specialized in harvesting information online for magazines and newspapers. I didn't do any of the harvesting. That was done by real pros with cool and expensive computers. My job was far less glamorous. Along with an army of other temps, I made digital files from typed documents and other non digital media on clunky old computers. Everyday for months, I came into the office, randomly picked a banker's box from stacks of them warehoused in the basement of the building, shlepped it upstairs and spent eight hours inputting information. It was as dull and mindless as it sounds but the pay was good.

One day, I opened a box that focused on one person named Gwen Yoshimura (This is not the woman's real name, it's one I made up so don't bother Goggling). It was a little odd for a typical box was usually filled with unrelated bundles of material. The information on the woman was in three neat black d-ring binders. According to the material, Gwen Yoshimura lived in Hawaii and was an art major at a local university. There was a plastic sleeve filled with newspaper clippings of art shows Yoshimura participated in and a plastic box with compact disks each labeled G. Yoshimura in neat felt tip marker, numbered one to eleven.

I did my job and scanned everyone of the sheets of paper in the D-ring binders, just over six hundred pages. I read a page here and there. Much that was written was highly sexual. The woman led an interesting life. I scanned the newspaper articles next. The last thing I did was down load all the info on the discs, reformatted it all and put everything together in one master file then took all the original stuff to a room to be recycled or destroyed.

This was a time before cloud storage and I was instructed to down load the information to a central storage computer and then make a temporary flash drive copy and assign it a bar code number. Just as I had finished slapped on the bar code to the flash drive, my boss came in and ordered all the temps to stop working. The word had just come down that the company had been sold and all temporary workers were to drop what they were doing, sign out and leave. I was barely given time to cleaned out my desk and within seconds of grabbing my coat I was standing in the parking lot with dozens of other unemployed temps.

A week later, while doing my laundry I discovered I had taken a company flash drive in my hasty exit. Worried that I had broken the law, I looked for the company on line to email them about what I had done. The company's website was shut down and I was directed to the website of the company that had bought them out. I sent the email there. They emailed back hours later asking for the bar code number on the drive. I emailed the number to them, convinced that I had walked off with something that was deemed highly classified and the FBI was on its way to my apartment in Reston, Virginia.

Hardly an hour later they shot me an email saying that the material on the drive was information gathered for a science article that was canceled and there was nothing classified or sensitive to worry about. They didn't even want it back and told me to just dispose of it.

Relieved that the FBI wasn't going to break down my door, I opened the files on the drive and discovered it was the stuff about Gwen Yoshimura the artist from Hawaii. There were countless documents, photos, letters and recorded emails. Much of the material was of Yoshimura's sexual exploits. Some parts read like a police report, cold and dispassionate, other parts read like a Penthouse Letter full of raunchy detail. The material was written by different people, some were friends of Yoshimura, a few were her lovers but most were outside observers. It seemed that a lot of people were watching her for some reason.

I browsed through all the information on the drive and it didn't take long for a pattern to form. After days of arranging the material, I stitched together a time line of events, from the time line a rough narrative emerged, from that I knitted together Yoshimura's story that I titled Naked Portraits.

I don't know how much of the information on the flash drive is true but it was all interesting. I had to imagine the emotional states and the day to day functions of the characters. I changed everyone's names so like I said before, don't bother Googling. If any of my made up names are of real people, it is unintentional and pure coincidence.

The story meanders and could easily be trimmed down but when I find a thread I like to pull at it until it gives out, so please forgive my indulgence in places. I will release the story in chunks every few weeks from here on out with fresh cometary, but I promise to be brief next time. I hope the people who have read the original Naked Portraits will find their way back.

Thanks,

Eagelwolf.

Introduction for part 2

This one is brief so hang in there. First I'd like to thank my volunteer editor Boston. He is not a Literotica editor. He is a friend, an avid reader and a big fan of my story. He helps me to arrange the mush I write into something readable. He is not an English major and it won't offend him to point out obvious gaffs. He points them out to me all the time so it's only fair. Boston keeps telling me to pare down, streamline and reduce, but so far I have resisted. Maybe it's vanity, but mostly I don't want to leave anything out. Besides, everything I leave in has a lot of sex in it and isn't what Literotica it is all about?

To get you up to speed, Gwen and Hawk hook up after Betty's disappearance. Gwen's art career takes a new turn and she starts a new friendship with Paul Gleason a fellow grad student.

In part one, the story of Shelly and Minnie was a long aside but Shelly's story plays a role in part two so I left it whole. Shelly's story was based on broken up video snippets recorded on the flash drive. My editor and friend Boston, found the whole movie online after searching for a long time. My interpretation turned out way different from the obscure little movie. Boston liked my version more so I kept it as is. I hope you enjoy part two of Naked Portraits. Please leave comments at the end. I love hearing from readers.

Thanks,

Eagelwolf.

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Naked Portraits Part 2

Chapter 12

Deep in the Iao Valley: A Goddess

The rough trail ended abruptly on a high rock face overlooking the Iao stream below.

"This is nice," I said. Although to simply say that the lush Iao Valley rainforest on the island of Maui is nice is a gross understatement.

"Wait until you see this place at sunset, It's like something out of Lord of the Rings," Hawk said.

"We're a ways in," I said a bit troubled. "If we wait for sunset it'll be pitch black before we get out."

"It's the winter solstice. The shortest day of the year too," He added cheerfully.

"On purpose you picked the shortest day of the year to hike deep into Iao Valley? Lolo!" I was seriously worried for even with a clear trail, it will be hard going getting out in the dark and the way we had come could hardly be called a trail at all.

"Ready to pay up?" He asked with a dirty smile I have grown to recognize.

"Not now?" I moaned.

"A bet's a bet."

"You're such an asshole," I said as I pulled my shirt over my head, dropped my shorts, then quickly peeled off my sports bra and panties.

Hawk dropped his light backpack and whipped out his digital camera. He snapped several shots of me with the green Iao Valley cliffs as a backdrop.

A week ago on a Sunday, I proved that I knew nothing about pro football when I bet that the San Francisco 49ers would easily beat the San Diego chargers. My dad is a big 49er's fan and I knew that quarterback Steve Young would pound the Chargers into the turf. Then I found out that Steve Young had long retired and the current 49ers basically sucked and no longer a power house in the NFL. Needless to say, San Francisco got trounced.

"This isn't fair. You took advantage of my total lack of sports knowledge," I said with a pout, as I struck a pose.

"Yes I did," He agreed.

"This is two down."

"Uh Uh," he said, "You got naked back on the condo balcony without my prompting. Doesn't count, you owe me four more."

"I was drunk when I made the bet."

"Yes I know," He said with an unsympathetic dirty smile.

I closed my eyes and spun in a slow circle actually enjoying being naked outside. I opened my eyes to see the twinkling lights of the city of Honolulu spread before me. My skin crawled and my throat tightened.

"What you thinking?" Hawk asked.

I shut my eyes tight to control my building panic. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the rainforest. The hallucination was brief but intense.

"We should get back before it gets dark," I said doing my best to hide how freaked out I was.

"No worries, I got it covered," He said with confidence.

He took me into his arms and kissed me. I shut my eyes. It was like he knew that I needed the comfort that came from his touch. It has been that way with him from the beginning, always doing just the right thing and making love to me perfectly ... every time.

Hesitantly, my eyes fluttered open. Thankfully I was still in Iao Valley. I frowned when I saw that Hawk was holding up the camera to click a shot of us kissing. His sneaky picture taking made me stop kissing to laugh and the laughter dispelled my panic of the weird hallucination. It was just a super strong feeling of deja vu, I thought allowing myself to reason it away.

I asked, "What are you doing with these photos?"

"Sending them to a hot Asian girlfriends website," He said casually.

"I'll assume you're kidding," I said dryly, giving him a suspicious look as I dressed.

"Want some ramen and a beer as we watch the sunset?" He asked.

"You hauled beer all the way in here?"

"No fucking way!" he said. "You did."

I frowned, picked up my light backpack unzipped it, rummaged through it and pulled out a ice pack with two cold, sweaty Sapporo beers in it.

"My grandfather thought me to never let someone else pack your backpack for you ... and your parachute." Hawk said with a crooked smile.

"If these weren't so beautiful, I would kick your ass," I said, pleased at the sight of the beers. "Now make my ramen with green onions, char sui pork and shoyu," I ordered.

"You got it," Hawk said, still smiling.

"So where's the noodles then?" I asked, calling his bluff.

"It's in your front pouch."

My mouth dropped open. I pealed back the Velcro tabs on my pack, and sure enough, I found two packs of Nobo saimin noodles, another cold pack with thinly sliced cooked pork in it, two sturdy plastic bowls, fancy wood chopsticks in a wooden box, chopped green onions in a Ziploc bag, and several little packets of soy sauce.

Oh my God, all of my favorites! I thought with glee. Then I said, "Hey asshole, what did you carry in?"

"The stove," he said. Nobo is my favorite brand because the noodles are moist precooked out of the package. I set up the bowls with the noodles on a stump under an ancient koa tree. Hawk filled each of the tall metal containers with water and aggressively twisted the bottom of each of the gunmetal cans, then he quickly set them on the stump next to the bowls.

Within seconds, the water in the canisters came to a violent boil. Gingerly, Hawk picked up a canister by its red plastic handle and poured the hot water into one of the bowls of noodles.

The savory smell of pork broth greeted my nose making my mouth water. Hawk deftly sprinkled chopped green onions and arranged several slices of pork over the top of the noodles. He repeated the process with the other bowl.

"As the lady ordered," He said with a smug smile.

We sat near the edge of the rock fall under a huge old koa and ate our clever little meal with chopsticks and drank the deliciously cold beer. Although the sun was long out of view on the other side of the West Maui Mountains, it still put on a spectacular show with the clouds overhead. A golden glow infused the whole valley that slowly turned orange with each passing minute. It all seemed so magical; if a dragon suddenly flew by overhead I wouldn't have been surprised.

"You're right, it is like something out of Lord of the Rings," I whispered in awe.

Then it started getting dark fast. We rounded up the trash from our dinner and packed it all in our backpacks. Hawk produced two small flashlights and passed me one.

"We won't need them for an hour at least," He said as we started our slow, careful walk back. "Fucking Mosquitoes," he cursed and slapped at his cheek. "How come they aren't feasting on you?"

"I have supernatural powers," I let him know.

"I always knew you were a goddess," He said deadpan, as we walked along the rough path.

I liked the idea of being a goddess, but alas my power of dispelling mosquitoes was far from divine. The combination of the shampoo and body lotion I used repelled the insects. It was Betty who had turned me on to the unintended properties of the two products a couple of years ago. I kept all that to myself though allowing my lover to ponder my incredible powers of wild beasts.

Lover ... The word floated in my head spinning in slow motion. Do I love him? Hawk and I have been together for three months now and I figured that when the sex cooled down this thing would end. But to date, the sex showed no signs of cooling down. I had no idea how Hawk felt about all this either. The man has proved very elusive when it came to the his deepest feelings, plus I felt like he was holding something back. It always feels like he wants to tell me something every time he looks into my eyes. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize he had stopped walking and plowed into his back.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

He clicked on his flashlight. I clicked mine on too.

"You see that?" He said pointing ahead of us.

I squinted and reached to adjust my glasses then felt stupid when I didn't find them on my face. Lately, I've taken to wearing my contacts. Up ahead I saw a soft greenish glow coming through the trees. A chill ran through me as my mind instantly went to the countless ghost stories attached to the Iao Valley. Clamping down on my animal instinct to flee, I stepped pass Hawk to get a better look but grabbed his shirt to pull him in close at the same time.

"It's a person," Hawk whispered.

I nodded for I saw a person too but he or she was too still.

"It's got to be a mannequin or statue," I said, fairly certain but not entirely confident.

With flashlights illuminating the dark path, we stumbled closer. Sure enough, as we emerged through a tangle of foliage into a clearing under some trees, we saw a life size carving of a woman in wood painted with glow-in-the-dark paint. The face was Hawaiian, the figure full and voluptuous, the pose classic Greek contrapposto; the right foot slightly forwards and all her weight on the back foot.

"This chick is well off the beaten path." I whispered. The part of me that has seen too many horror movies expected the thing to reach out for me at any second.

"Why the glow paint?" Hawk asked. "How often do people travel this deep in the valley at night?"

"This is eerie," I agreed.

"Look," Hawk said. His flashlight beam shone on a long paddle shaped leaf resting at the feet of the carved figure. On the leaf was a square object wrapped in more leaf. "This is an active worship site. The offering looks fresh maybe dropped off today."

My flashlight beam traveled over the carving and I marveled at its intricacy; the muscle tone perfect and life like. Whoever did it was no amateur. I clicked off my flashlight. Hawk did the same. Freshly energized by our flashlight beams the statue glowed brighter.

Bathed in the weak eerie green glow Hawk whispered, "This is so weird."

"The carving style is western modern with no hint of Pacific Island," I said recalling years of pacific art history lessons. "It's more like a Greek Kouros."

"Isn't a Kouros usually male?"

I shrugged for I didn't know the answer to that.

Hawk stood behind me with his hands on my upper arm. "Your all goose bumpy," he said.

"We call it chicken skin," I said as every inch of my skin rippled.

"This is an active worship sight," Hawk said seriously, "We shouldn't disturb anything."

"I want to make an offering," I said.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes I'm serious. Finding her was near zero. This is fate." I set my brain at preparing an offering.

"I saw some ti leaves back there," Hawk said and wandered off to find them. I was still running an inventory through my head of what I had to offer when Hawk returned with two long paddle shaped green leaves.

"Your hair," He whispered.

I grabbed at my hair, thinking he saw a spider or something.

"Give some of your hair," He clarified. He fumbled around in his backpack and produced the long wooden box that the chopsticks for our noodle dinner came in. "Put it in this," The box was bright red with the name of the company in black and gold Japanese characters. It slid open like a matchbox.

"Spirit Woods," I translated as I emptied the chopsticks into the front pouch of my backpack. Hawk handed me his pocketknife and I cut a small length of my hair and I put it in the box. "Need more," I said as I took the knife and made a small cut in the palm of my left hand.

"Jesus Gwen! Have you flipped?" Hawk said surprised by my move.

Ignoring him, I squeezed my hand into a fist and watch a trickle of blood drop onto the hair in the box.

"Lolo," Hawk said as he made me open my hand and tied his handkerchief around the cut. I still found it charming and old fashion that he carried those things around.

"Still need more," I said, "drop your pants."

Chapter 13

The Sprite Wood Offering

"What you say Japanee girl?" Hawk asked.

"You heard me, drop your pants."

"No way. You're not gonna cut me anywhere down there," He said adamantly.

"I'm not going to cut you haole boy," I said as I handed the knife back to him. I dropped to my knees in front of him and started to unbuckle the belt on his cargo pants.

"You do know that you're exposing the only part of my body not bitten by mosquitoes," he said but made no move to stop me.