tkl-pen
Member
MIRROR: Download from MEGA
THE TICKLISH TRAVELS OF RACHEL COOK
PART SEVEN - HAWAII
Rachel was about three hours into her flight from Tokyo to Honolulu and had just finished her in-flight lunch, a wonderful red snapper meal, when she took a little time to relax and reflect on her travels. Certainly, she had tasted a lot of different dishes and collected many new recipes, but for some reason she ended up being tickled for hours everywhere she went including her hotel in Tokyo, a little Chinese restaurant in Hong Kong, a tour of the research facilities in Shanghai, the island where the birds nests came from in Thailand, a little village in Viet Nam, and a private estate in Japan. She thought that once, maybe even twice, would be a coincidence perhaps, but not six times in less than a month. Yasuhiro Kato, the billionaire in Japan was sure a nice man, though, even though he loved to tickle torture her, and he really knew how to tickle a woman, too. But he also knew how to pamper one. She cried when she left him at the airport, though, as she had slept with him twice to relieve the constant sexual arousal she had experiences in the Asian countries. He had given her his private phone number, an invitation to return at any time using an airline ticket that would always be waiting for her. She intended to use that ticket within the next few months.
Honolulu was a good experience for Rachel. She had eaten noodles at the Tsuruja Noodle Shop, which was in fact a branch of the Tokyo shop with the same name, and a wonderful dinner at Duke’s Canoe Club right on Waikiki Beach. She had a delicious mahi mahi at another Hawaiian restaurant, and she attended a really good luau a short distance outside of Honolulu. In between, she had been swimming, snorkelling and sunbathing. But what about the real Hawaii, she wondered, without the influence of the Americans, the Japanese, the Chinese, or anyone else. What do they eat, she wondered, and what are their luaus and gatherings like. There was only one place in Hawaii where the real Hawaiians still lived, without the influence of outsiders – the island of Niihoa. As it was, though, nobody was allowed to go there.
She talked to the tour guide who had taken her to the luau on Oahu, outside of Honolulu, about her travels and her mission to taste authentic foods and collect recipes to use on her cooking show and in her cookbooks. He told her that he would look into the idea of Rachel’s going to Niihoa, even though it was not permitted, as a special guest of a priest or priestess to attend a luau there. He asked for her hotel room and telephone numbers so that he could contact her, although he did have to convince her that there was no other motivation on his part before she would give these to him. She really did not expect him to call as Niihoa was totally off limits to everyone.
The following morning, though, he did call. He told her that he was able to make an arrangement for her to go to Niihoa, albeit in a clandestine manner, but that she would have to go alone. Neither a male nor a camera operator would be allowed to come, and Ed was both of these. Being as adventurous as always, though, Rachel didn’t even hesitate in accepting the invitation. She was told that a helicopter could take her later that day, about an hour before sunset, drop her on a deserted beach at the north end of the island, and she would have to walk from there. A young Hawaiian woman, albeit of Chinese ancestry, named Allison Choi, would be going with her. The helicopter would be back to get them the following morning, about an hour after sunup.
“This is so exciting,†said Rachel, “as she walked through the lobby of her hotel with Allison Choi, leaving for the helicopter base and their subsequent flight to Niihoa. Officially, they were going to Kauai, and the helicopter would then fly low on a totally unauthorized flight to Niihoa, about ten minutes away from Kauai. She was told not to tell anyone about the trip.
Rachel wore her favorite blue jeans, made of a lighter blue and softer cloth than regular jeans, a t-shirt and a matching blue denim jacket. She didn’t really need the jacket, as it was quite warm in Hawaii, but it might be nice to have it during the night, if it started to get cool.
Allison Choi was a superbly beautiful young Chinese woman who also wore jeans and a t-shirt with a light windbreaker jacket. She was about twenty-four years of age and stood a perfect five foot five inches, about the same height as Rachel. At work in the hotel, though, she always looked stunning in a charcoal colored skirt and jacket with a dressy blouse, fishnet stockings and leather shoes.
The helicopter flew along the western coast of Kauai, the garden island, where the cliffs rise from the ocean. Instead of turning eastward toward the settled part of the island, though, the helicopter turned southward and, skimming above the water, flew its two occupants to the forbidden island of Niihoa, using its quiet flight mode. A few minutes later, it landed gently on the beach.
“Come,†said Allison, “the settlement is this way, about a mile down this trail.â€
“I don’t know about this, Allison,†said Rachel, “I almost feel like were being watched.â€
“Don’t be silly, Rachel,†she said, “nobody knows we’re here, except the priestess in the village, and she is expecting us to come down this trail.â€
“Something doesn’t feel right to me, though,†she said, “the little hairs in my neck are standing up. Maybe we should go back.â€
“We can’t go back now,†said Allison, “the helicopter’s gone, and I don’t want to sit on the beach there hungry and cold all night.â€
“You’re right, Allison,†she said, “it’s probably nothing anyway.â€
PART SEVEN - HAWAII
Rachel was about three hours into her flight from Tokyo to Honolulu and had just finished her in-flight lunch, a wonderful red snapper meal, when she took a little time to relax and reflect on her travels. Certainly, she had tasted a lot of different dishes and collected many new recipes, but for some reason she ended up being tickled for hours everywhere she went including her hotel in Tokyo, a little Chinese restaurant in Hong Kong, a tour of the research facilities in Shanghai, the island where the birds nests came from in Thailand, a little village in Viet Nam, and a private estate in Japan. She thought that once, maybe even twice, would be a coincidence perhaps, but not six times in less than a month. Yasuhiro Kato, the billionaire in Japan was sure a nice man, though, even though he loved to tickle torture her, and he really knew how to tickle a woman, too. But he also knew how to pamper one. She cried when she left him at the airport, though, as she had slept with him twice to relieve the constant sexual arousal she had experiences in the Asian countries. He had given her his private phone number, an invitation to return at any time using an airline ticket that would always be waiting for her. She intended to use that ticket within the next few months.
Honolulu was a good experience for Rachel. She had eaten noodles at the Tsuruja Noodle Shop, which was in fact a branch of the Tokyo shop with the same name, and a wonderful dinner at Duke’s Canoe Club right on Waikiki Beach. She had a delicious mahi mahi at another Hawaiian restaurant, and she attended a really good luau a short distance outside of Honolulu. In between, she had been swimming, snorkelling and sunbathing. But what about the real Hawaii, she wondered, without the influence of the Americans, the Japanese, the Chinese, or anyone else. What do they eat, she wondered, and what are their luaus and gatherings like. There was only one place in Hawaii where the real Hawaiians still lived, without the influence of outsiders – the island of Niihoa. As it was, though, nobody was allowed to go there.
She talked to the tour guide who had taken her to the luau on Oahu, outside of Honolulu, about her travels and her mission to taste authentic foods and collect recipes to use on her cooking show and in her cookbooks. He told her that he would look into the idea of Rachel’s going to Niihoa, even though it was not permitted, as a special guest of a priest or priestess to attend a luau there. He asked for her hotel room and telephone numbers so that he could contact her, although he did have to convince her that there was no other motivation on his part before she would give these to him. She really did not expect him to call as Niihoa was totally off limits to everyone.
The following morning, though, he did call. He told her that he was able to make an arrangement for her to go to Niihoa, albeit in a clandestine manner, but that she would have to go alone. Neither a male nor a camera operator would be allowed to come, and Ed was both of these. Being as adventurous as always, though, Rachel didn’t even hesitate in accepting the invitation. She was told that a helicopter could take her later that day, about an hour before sunset, drop her on a deserted beach at the north end of the island, and she would have to walk from there. A young Hawaiian woman, albeit of Chinese ancestry, named Allison Choi, would be going with her. The helicopter would be back to get them the following morning, about an hour after sunup.
“This is so exciting,†said Rachel, “as she walked through the lobby of her hotel with Allison Choi, leaving for the helicopter base and their subsequent flight to Niihoa. Officially, they were going to Kauai, and the helicopter would then fly low on a totally unauthorized flight to Niihoa, about ten minutes away from Kauai. She was told not to tell anyone about the trip.
Rachel wore her favorite blue jeans, made of a lighter blue and softer cloth than regular jeans, a t-shirt and a matching blue denim jacket. She didn’t really need the jacket, as it was quite warm in Hawaii, but it might be nice to have it during the night, if it started to get cool.
Allison Choi was a superbly beautiful young Chinese woman who also wore jeans and a t-shirt with a light windbreaker jacket. She was about twenty-four years of age and stood a perfect five foot five inches, about the same height as Rachel. At work in the hotel, though, she always looked stunning in a charcoal colored skirt and jacket with a dressy blouse, fishnet stockings and leather shoes.
The helicopter flew along the western coast of Kauai, the garden island, where the cliffs rise from the ocean. Instead of turning eastward toward the settled part of the island, though, the helicopter turned southward and, skimming above the water, flew its two occupants to the forbidden island of Niihoa, using its quiet flight mode. A few minutes later, it landed gently on the beach.
“Come,†said Allison, “the settlement is this way, about a mile down this trail.â€
“I don’t know about this, Allison,†said Rachel, “I almost feel like were being watched.â€
“Don’t be silly, Rachel,†she said, “nobody knows we’re here, except the priestess in the village, and she is expecting us to come down this trail.â€
“Something doesn’t feel right to me, though,†she said, “the little hairs in my neck are standing up. Maybe we should go back.â€
“We can’t go back now,†said Allison, “the helicopter’s gone, and I don’t want to sit on the beach there hungry and cold all night.â€
“You’re right, Allison,†she said, “it’s probably nothing anyway.â€
Keep2share Premium PRO Account