Mangoes

Sated, sighing contentedly, you put the empty fruit platter on the wicker bedside cabinet. The heady bouquet of the mangoes barely ascends in the humid tropical monsoonal night air where the faithful ceiling fan struggles valiantly to stir the gelatinous atmosphere. Two empty wine bottles neck on the floor beside the tallboy.

Thus ends formal celebrations for the end of the first week at our new tropical home.

We lie naked and languorous on the borrowed futon. Languorous might be putting too fine a point on it; spread-eagled and slightly drunk, may be a more apt description.

Leaning over, I study the fine hairs on your torso, each delicate filament with its own jewel of perspiration. I chide you for your sloppy table manners and my fingers track some wayward mango juice down your breastbone. You inform me that a gentleman would not make such indiscreet observations and insist that I clean it off.

I lean across you further to lick the salty juice from your body. A dusky nipple catches my eye and gives me the "come-hither" look. A true gentleman now, I cannot resist a nipple in distress. I start to lathe the aureole with the flattened tip of my tongue teasingly avoiding the now rosy teat. You swivel under me until your mouth also finds a nipple, mine!

With a groan I bury my face in your breast and we start to play a favourite game. You mirror my actions with your own; I suck, you suck. I lick, you lick. I nip, you nip but as always you take over as the sensations and the intimacy overwhelm me.

Without asking for your leave, I wriggle headlong towards the end of the bed and your pussy. Wow, its so hot and humid tonight even your pubic hair is limpid. Nonetheless, sweeping my tongue up and down across your mound I part your pubes until I find clear access to your clit. A nice large responsive clitoris, already reaching up for my mouth.

I begin to plough my tongue up and down your inner lips pausing regularly at your vagina to lap at the early flow of your juices. Soon my cheeks and chin are smeared with a cocktail of your juice and my saliva. Everything is salty and sweet tonight.

Your clit receives a single firm flick of my tongue on each downstroke, teasingly. Not regularly enough on its own to take you on to a delicious crisis, but still firmly enough to leave you buzzing and in anticipation of the next one.

At the other end of the bed, my erect cock is twitching with every heartbeat. Your fingers are drawn as always to the foreskin. With gentle fingers you knead and roll it with the tips before you slide you fingers inside to stroke the silky bulb inside. Very soon your artful caresses bring on a full-blooded veiny erection and the foreskin retreats behind the plum-coloured glans.

You grab my shaft firmly, just as I'd showed you, and start jacking and milking along its length, the turgid tissue sliding through the bunched loose skin. A glisten of clear pre-cum catches your eye and you transfer the first sweet drop to your mouth with the tip of a finger.

My mouth is firmly latched onto your pussy. I madly push and twirl my tongue as far as I can into your vagina. You splay your legs even further to give me greater access to all the tender tissues.

I can feel the tingling and tightening of my imminent orgasm as you rapidly milk my cock. I sense you are close behind me as you tilt your pelvis further affording access to all your orifices.

Remembering a chance discovery and subsequent trick or too of my own, I manoeuvre to park the tip of my nose against your anus. My tongue has long since stopped its roving and is beating a regular tattoo on your engorged clit. Your fist is rapidly pumping my shaft while I jog my hips to increase the tempo.

This is not making love, our need is too basic and urgent and we rush headlong, instinctively, to loud messy orgasms.

With my lips tongue and nose I feel your powerful spasms erupt. My cock pulses jumps and jerks in your fist as I rhythmically spurt the opalescent fluid into the air and across your chest. You leave my cock to gently stroke my back and ass while I gently soothe your clit with a softened tongue. As always I have a final lap at your vagina to claim the thick sweet nectar that only comes at the end.

Finally back in each others arms we cuddle and snuggle for a bit in a limpid sweaty gooey embrace. You point out that once again you are in need of a wash and after all I am partly responsible. You suggest that a tongue bath would not suffice and in this instance a shower might be in order.

As if on cue the sky unzips and a late evening monsoon cloudburst erupts.

You shake your head NO! and then squeal as I sweep you up into my arms and march out into the rain. I slip on the wet lawn and we tumble helplessly across the grass. Unhurt we roll laughing on the grass in the rain like a pair of otters. The purifying rain soon washes off the evidence of our love and is not too cold to be anything but refreshing and sensual.

You feel something against you suddenly come to life and wriggle. You scream and jump to your feet. Our first thoughts are of the large python previous tenants warned us about. Closer investigation brought a chuckle as we find you'd disturbed a pair of cane toads in a warty embrace. Still locked in their tryst the copulating toads hop away to continue undisturbed and without an audience.

"That must be what they call toadie style." you chuckle.

I snuggle up behind you with my hands on your belly and suggest maybe we could try "toadie style" sometime. You suppose it would be okay but without the hopping and the warts! You reach behind to find a fleshy meaty cock, still turgid from our recent loving and further stimulated by the kiss of the rain and the thrill of the great outdoors.

As I swell and throb in your hand you suggest there is another style we borrowed from our canine friends that would be practical at a time like this. In fact you insist by pulling me to the ground and turning to present your delightful rear.

You urge me to hurry as you say the rain in this position is taking dreadful liberties and may dampen your ardour. Reaching back you guide my manhood to your slick entrance.

I gently bear down against the resistance of the first inch or so only to withdraw and repeat the entrance all over again. I continue teasing you in this way until in your passion you pull me in deep entreating me to "get on with it." I rest with the tip of my glans wedged up against the tight place at the neck of your womb. In this position I can feel your busy fingers buried in the connection between us working away at that large clit.

I push further into you until I feel your pussy respond by clamping down along my whole length. Spurred on. I begin to swing my hips and start a rhythm of regular long hard thrusts. You arch your back to better accommodate my full strokes and our breaths are coming in ragged sobs.

I feel this orgasm building from deep within, more diffuse, much more spiritual this time. I know I will cum before you. I urge you to join me as I mash my pelvis against your glorious ass to drive my cock even deeper. You feel my cock somehow swell even more and begin to pulse and spurt deep within you.

Spurred on you frantically work away at your clit as I continue to pound into you to get you through your orgasm. Wedged right up against your womb, I feel your pussy "nip" at the end of my glans as you finally cum in a crescendo of powerful contractions.

With slower gentler strokes I ease you past the orgasm until you eventually slump and draw away from me. Slightly chilled now and weary from all our exertions we walk arm in arm towards the house and a lovely warm shower.