After Josefa had finished his incredibly agile and energetic performance, he ran over to where Chris and I were sitting. His chest was heaving as he gasped for air. "Did you like my dance? I did it specially for you!"

"Way cool! Damn hot!"

"Cool and hot?" my puzzled bud asked. "How can it be so?"

"You make it so, Josefa," I smiled. "I enjoyed it a lot, and I'm sure Chris did, too."

"Yeah, man, it was a totally awesome sight."

"And did my war paint scare you?"

"I was shaking like a leaf," I lied as the little guy used his thumbs to stretch his mouth, then poke out his tongue. "Scared me outa my wits."

"Yellow Hair's dick doesn't look very scared," the kid laughed as he observed Chris's boner, then placed a hand on my crotch. "Wow! And yours is big, too! You have vakalevu under your sarong!"

"You've got a lotta vaka-whatever under your damn grass skirt, too, Josefa, so don't you talk!"

"You were looking?"

"Caught a quick glimpse."

"Maybe I give you a longer glimpse later," he grinned, then ran off to rejoin the other members of his family.

Since the drinking of kava was traditionally a mens' ceremony, Chris and I were invited by Jone to join the male villagers in the large bure -- a kinda village town hall, except it was built in the typical Fijian style with a thatched roof and vaulted ceiling. It was about the size of an average family home but didn't have any interior walls. The compacted earthen floor, covered with thickly woven grass mates, provided the seating. Candles, made from wooden bowls which were filled with oil and a floating wick, provided the lighting.

"Isn't Josefa coming?" I asked as I surveyed the room.

"Josefa is not yet a man," Jone explained. "Yaqona is only for adults." The village chief read the look of disappointment on my face, then shrugged his large shoulders. "But if it is the wish of the guest of honor, we can make an exception. I'll fetch him from our bure."

"Allow me," I insisted as I rose, then headed for the door. In the center of the moonlit village circle, a lone figure was dancing. The women and children had all retired to their bures. The torches had been extinguished. All signs of the feasting had been tidied or removed. It was as though the celebration had never occurred. "Josefa? Is that you?"

The lone figure stood still. "Did you really like my dance? I wanted so much to make it special for you. I tried very hard to please you. You are the boy-king of the sharks."

"It was awesome! Honest! You were fucking great!"

"I didn't want the night to end, so that is why I am dancing now. I was pretending that the music was still playing and that you were still here watching me with Yellow Hair."

"Your father said it was OK for you to join us in the big bure. I came to get you."

"For yaqona? Me?" Josefa rushed toward me, threw his arms around my neck and hugged the hell outa me.

"I've never been hugged by a guy in a grass skirt before," I laughed. "Anyway, we're holding up the party, dude. Let's go. Boy-king's orders."

Chris and I were both guests of honor but, since I was the most recent, it was decided by the master of ceremonies, Jone, that I would sit cross-legged at the head of the group. Before me on the mat was the tanoa, a large wooden bowl carved from a single piece of hardwood called Vesi. The actual drinking vessel was the bilo, a half coconut shell which would be filled with the liquid kava and passed around according to rank. I guessed that Josefa would be the last to drink.

Protruding from the tanoa was a thick rope made of coconut fibre, and decorated with white cowrie shells. "This is called the Tui-ni-Buli," Jone explained, "and it is always pointed toward the guest of honor. During this ceremony, no one may pass the line drawn by the Tui-ni-Buli."

"What if they do?"

"Then they die."

"Oh."

As Jone used a pestle to mash the root of the pepper tree in a mortar, he explained how, in times long gone, young village girls would chew the root until it was a soft, pulpy mass before the water was added.

"No offence, but I think I prefer it this way," I grinned.

Once the root had been mashed to a gritty consistency, Jone directed one of the senior villagers to add water to the tanoa until he was satisfied that the mixture was correct. A piece of cloth was produced, and the liquid was ready to be strained. "Josefa!" Jone called. "Would you like to be the cup bearer?"

Josefa rose to his feet. "Me?" The look of total surprise on his face was soon replaced by an expression of sheer delight as he picked his way through the seated villagers toward me. "Oh, yes, father! This is such an honor!"

"Just don't step over the Tui-thingywhatsit, Josefa," I laughed, "or you're a gonner!"

Jone carefully strained the kava from the tanoa into the bilo. Then, with much ceremony and respect, Josefa knelt before me and presented the bowl, which I received with both hands. "You drink the yaqona now, in one go," he smiled.

I lifted the bilo to my lips and drank the contents. Whoa! The taste was kinda bitter -- but not altogether unpalatable. Then I returned the bowl to Josefa. Suddenly, cries of "maca" rose from the assembly, accompanied by the clapping of hands.

"What did I do wrong?" was my instinctive question.

"Nothing," Josefa explained with a sweet smile and a sparkle in his chocolate eyes. "Maca means the bilo has been drained -- everybody is happy. It happens each time somebody drinks the yaqona."

The next to drink was Jone, being the master of ceremonies, then Chris. More water was added to the tanoa, strained and poured before being handed to the next person by Josefa. And each time the bowl was drained, a cry of "maca" would erupt, followed by clapping. As I suspected, my little Fijian bud was the last to taste the ceremonial yaqona. Then the whole process started again. Jeez!

By the time I'd consumed about three bowls, I was feeling distinctly detached from reality -- and I wasn't the only one. The whole room was a sea of brown, beaming faces and pearly-white teeth. It struck me that I was sitting in the happiest place on the planet. Nothing mattered. Everything was totally cool in this remote tropical paradise that had absolutely no connection with the outside world.

By about the fourth cup, Chris's loin cloth had unravelled. His semi was hanging in a lazy arc over his balls and looking extremely fucking delicious -- not that anyone else was paying attention apart from me. And the kava was making me as horny as a fucking rhino! All I could think about was getting my lips around that Adonis's thick hose.

I was in a mood where I no longer cared what anybody thought. I allowed my eyes to roam over every kissable and lickable inch of Chris's lean, tanned bod -- every sexy curve, every twitching, bulging muscle -- and his face. Whoa! His exquisite face! The damn thing was made in heaven, and his boyish laughter was like some cute but highly erotic song that I hoped would never end.

By the time midnight had arrived, all of the men except for Jone had returned to their bures, and Josefa had been sent home about an hour earlier. "Do you wish to sleep here?" the big man asked.

"That'd be cool, Jone. I'm gonna sleep like a log."

Chris rose from the floor, leaving his unravelled loin cloth on the mat like some discarded rag, and stretched his naked body to its full and beautiful length. "Thanks for the cool party, Jone," he yawned. "Had a wicked time. You guys are just too much."

"There are some pillows stacked over there in the corner for occasions such as this, my friends. You won't be needing blankets -- it never gets cold in Fiji," he laughed. "Goodnight, and sleep well. In the morning, I will send Josefa with breakfast of fruit."

As soon as our genial host had disappeared through the door, I stood and ditched my sarong while Chris went to the other side of the large room to fetch some pillows. "Can you get a couple for me while you're there?"

"Sure." The Adonis bent down to gather a bunch of pillows, providing me with the perfect opportunity to gawk at his parted cheeks and his little brown rosebud. What a glorious sight! When he'd returned, he dropped the pillows on the floor. "Where do you wanna sleep, Cody?"

"Right here is cool. Thanks." I had a raging boner -- truth was, I'd had the fucking thing all night -- and was itching to get my rocks off. The sight of Chris's mouthwatering body was driving me totally wild!

"Seems like kava gets you excited," he grinned, eyeing my hard teen meat.

"I'm always horny, especially... well, you know..."

"I do?"

"You damnwell should! Jeez! You're Christopher Atkins for fuck's sake!"

"Are you talking about the sight of me naked?"

"Christopher..." I had to bite my tongue to stop from telling him the truth about who I was, where I came from, and the fact that his movie was a huge hit all around the world -- and had been for almost twenty years! "You remind me of a friend of mine -- the one I've had gay sex with. You've got a way cool body like his."

"Are you sure?"

"Are you kidding? I'm looking at it, aren't I? What the...?"

"Feel it, just to be sure." The corners of his mouth curled up, and a few wrinkles appeared at the edges of his twinkling blue eyes.

"Feel it? Your body? Whoa! Are you serious?"

"I told you before, Cody, that the kava would make me kinda relaxed, and that I wouldn't be responsible for my actions."

This was one opportunity I couldn't pass up. I had to take advantage of it. Eighteen year old Christopher Atkins, in the flesh! Woohoo! "I'm sorry if I seem a bit too enthusiastic," I gushed as my hands ran over his awesome, solid pecs, "but I'm not sure how long I'm gonna be here, and I wanna remember this moment for the rest of my life. Jeez! Steve's not gonna believe this!"

"Your friend, Steve? Is my chest like his?"

"Yeah, smooth and perfectly defined. It's fucking wicked. So fucking cool! Damn! And your abs are like his, too. You're taller, though, and a bit older -- and you're cut."

"Where?"

"Your dick. I mean, you're circumcized. Steve isn't. He pulls his foreskin back to make it look like he is, though."

"Can I feel you?"

"In a minute. I might disappear all of a sudden."

"Into thin air?"

"Don't ask me to explain, Chris. It's too damn complicated." I reached down to the floor and retrieved his loin cloth. "Do me a big fav. Put this on. I wanna remember what it was like kissing your throbber through it, then seeing it slowly slide down your thighs. I wanna remember how it was when my face was just inches from your awesome jewels, and how they smelt, and how you groaned when my tongue wrapped around your knob."

When he'd tied the loin cloth around his narrow waist, I asked him to turn around. "Yeah, just like in the... I mean, just like I'd imagined. Your buns show -- just enough to tease the fuck outa the... I mean, anybody who notices. Damn, they're hot!" I lifted the cloth slowly to reveal all of his crack. Oh, my God! Such a sweet, sweet ass! Firm and round, tanned and inviting, with cute dimples in the sides of his cheeks. "Can you face me again?"

When he'd done as I'd asked, I put my face to his crotch and inhaled his scent. It was warm and spicy, and intoxicated my brain even more than the kava had. I kissed the hard bulge behind his loin cloth, then looked up at his adorable face. "I dunno how many blow jobs you've had, Chris, but you're never gonna forget this one. I promise you that."

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 Cody's Blue Lagoon Part 4