Supernova DP - Episode 1

Erotic Substance

Story 2

Supernova Deepthroat

I first met my great grandfather Patrick Hayes at my high school graduation. After the ceremony my family and I were taking pictures and congratulating friends I had grown up with when an old man of ninety-nine years approached. At first I thought he was some lost senior citizen, but then he called out to my father and the two embraced.

Pappy, as we called him, had been estranged from the family for several years. First through his own son, my father’s father, then a generation later through my father. Both men had chosen not to follow in his footsteps of dedicating their lives to the study of human sexuality. My grandfather didn’t want anything to do with it because he blamed the field for his father being away from home for most of his childhood as Pappy’s studies had taken him all over the globe, which at that time meant travelling long distances by sea. And conditioned by his father, my father was raised to believe the old man was nothing more than an adulterous sex addict. This had hurt Pappy a great deal. Not only because of their willful ignorance towards the contributions he was making to the academic world, but also because of the fact that they had mocked his most prized discovery, treating it as a wild story full of lies when he had tried passing it along to them.

Time appeared to have healed old wounds, with Pappy being invited back to our house to continue in the celebration. But this was short-lived when my father overheard the two of us talking.

Pappy was offering to pay for my entire college education with his life savings if I chose to become a sexologist. My father started to lose his temper and demanded that the ‘old man’ leave. Trying to keep everything calm my mother acted as peacekeeper, taking Dad out of the room for a few minutes then returning so we could all sit down and discuss things like adults.

The truth of the matter was that my parents had three teenagers they wanted to send to college, but only two modest teaching salaries on which to do so. Adding this to the fact that I had yet to realize what I wanted to do with my life, my mother convinced my father to at least hear Pappy out. After everything was said and done we reached the agreement that I would spend some time researching the subject. If I was interested then I would declare it as my major as long as I had the option of changing my mind by the end of my sophomore year if I felt I was on the wrong path.

That summer not only did I discover the fascinating world of human sexuality but got to know my amazing great grandfather as well while he stayed with us for those three months. He had so many interesting experiences to share with me, all of which spanned over the eighty years he had dedicated to his work. Journeying from continent to continent, country to country, I remember thinking of him as the Indiana Jones of sexologists.

A few weeks before I was to start my freshman year Pappy informed me that it was time for him to move on. Packed and ready to go, he handed me a check that was enough to cover all expenses needed to acquire my degree. I felt bad taking what he had spent his whole life earning, but he assured me that nothing would make him happier, and that he’d resurface in a couple of years to see how I was doing.

Just as he had promised Pappy made contact with me during my sophomore year. Unfortunately, it was through the staff of a retirement home, informing me that he was on his deathbed and requesting to see me before it was too late. During the four hour bus ride my feelings would shift from the excitement of wanting to tell him all that I had learned so far to the sorrow of knowing that he would soon be gone.

Pappy was the type to tell it how he saw it, and was the only sexologist I’ve met to date who didn’t speak in clinical terms but rather in a lingo reflecting his passion. We spent the first two days of my arrival talking about everything from what I was studying to the places in the world he hadn’t had a chance to explore but hoped I would. On the third night he said he had something very special to share with me. After having me lock the door to his room and retrieve a worn out, old-fashioned body pouch from underneath all his other belongings in his suitcase I sat beside his bed in wonder, and as instructed emptied its contents. I uncovered an old tattered journal and something wrapped in a hand-stitched piece of cloth.

“That, Gerry boy, is something I had hoped to pass on to your father after his father turned out to be a whiny jackass. But the apple ended up fallin’ not that far from the tree, so I had to wait ‘til you came along. Those two items you got there represent one of humankind’s best-kept secrets. My greatest discovery.”

The journal was his account of a hidden island he had discovered at the age of thirty-seven. He had been documenting ancient customs in a country that had a territory covering numerous islands, some of which remained unexplored because it was thought that they didn’t have anything worth venturing out to. While collecting data from the country’s main islands Pappy met an old woman in a small village who claimed to have come from one of the remote islands, whose people were led by women. A small tribe of no more than a hundred who had managed to stay hidden from the world for thousands of years.

The elderly woman told her story through one of her English-speaking family members, recalling how she had gone out too far while fishing in her banana boat and had been carried out to sea. Near death, fishermen from the main islands came upon her days later and brought her to the village she ended up calling home ever since. Even after she learned their dialect no one believed her story, in turn keeping the secret society hidden.

When asked about tribal rituals and customs the elder drew a waterfall and then shocked Pappy as she reached out for his crotch, cupping both his penis and his testicles in her hand. She then withdrew it and ran her hand down her throat before pointing back to the waterfall.

She couldn’t remember much more than that, and even after her adopted family told Pappy they thought her story was fictitious he believed otherwise and set out to explore the lesser known islands. It took him nearly a year and quite a few brushes with death, but he finally discovered what he would later refer to as one of the greatest revelations he had ever come upon in human sexuality. The Supernova Deepthroat.

The hand-stitched cloth had been given to him by the indigenous people, along with what was wrapped inside.

36A wooden dildo covered in the soft skin of a stingray, with testicles at the base and a ring attached to its bottom. Much like the ring of a pacifier.

Pappy said the island was a real-life Shangri-La whose people were at total peace, unlike the rest of the world which seemed to be destroying itself at the time with World War II. It was a self-sufficient society led by the warmth of women, with a sexual ritual that would take any man to the highest levels of orgasm. And because of these factors he chose to keep this discovery to himself, rather than risk the outside world coming in and ruining it like it had done with so many other places.

“You’ll find everything you need in that journal. Maps. Guides. My private entries. And a check to keep you goin’ strong for the next few years. It’s all I got left, and I thank you son, for validating my life’s work. The key to paradise is now yours. Do with it as you see best. Just promise me one thing. Before you decide whether or not to share your findings with the world, visit the place first. Then it’s up to you.”

“I promise.”

Pappy passed away that very night, leaving me a little scared but also very honored to be the one to follow in his footsteps.

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I spent the following two summer breaks in the ocean learning the basics of how to operate a boat, so once I earned my bachelor’s degree I was ready for the big trip. With plans to fly out to the main island I would then rent a boat and navigate it myself so as to keep the hidden island a secret.

I would only have one companion, Jenna, a girl I’d met while taking surveys for a class project during my junior year. One of the questions I asked was whether or not she had ever experienced female ejaculation. This was a subject that tended to give me good luck when it came to being with women who otherwise would have been considered to be out of my league. I loved Pappy’s take on the whole theory of sexual class.

“A woman knows whether or not she’s sexually attracted to a man within five seconds of meeting him. Eye candy will take that down to two, but in the end a woman will always choose pleasure over a romance cover model any day of the week. So all you gotta do is let ‘em know what’s floatin’ around in that head of yours, and once they find out it’s sexual expertise they’ll be on you like white on rice.”

Jenna and I ended up having a friends-with-benefits type relationship, and I came to trust her enough to invite her on what promised to be an adventurous getaway.  

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I could see how such an island would appear to be no different than the many others we passed, and given its remote location there were far easier routes for travelers to take when going and coming into the country. But it still amazed me that its inhabitants had remained undiscovered over the course of so many thousands of years.

Pappy’s instructions were surprisingly easy to follow, especially considering the fact that he didn’t have the benefit of GPS some seventy years ago. We were to approach the island from its north shore for a smooth docking, then blow a coded message into a seashell horn that we had acquired on the main island, which should have signaled the islanders to let them know we were peaceful.

I say ‘should’ because no one responded or appeared despite our dozen or so attempts at trying to make contact. When evening fell we decided to build a fire there on the beach, wondering whether or not to head inland the next day if we hadn’t heard anything by then.

As we laid out on the beach we took in the magnificent sky above, with stars brighter than either of us had ever seen before. The calm sound of the sea and the perfect breeze brought the two of us together in a comfortable embrace. This eventually led to the exchange of light playful kisses as I held her from the back while caressing her front, my hands finding their way to her bikini-covered breasts.

Jenna was a beautiful blonde who would cause beach goers a half a world away to stop and stare. But that night the beach was ours, out in the middle of the vast ocean as tasting turned to passionate savoring.

She untied her top and placed her hands on the back of mine, moving along with them as they massaged the fullness of her chest. She was a hands-on type of girl, loving to place them atop whatever the source was that was providing her pleasure.