Two Go Wild in Bali

Jenny and I didn't really discuss the night with the guys (or the morning after) apart from a few subtle comments and some decidedly naughty grins.

One couldn't exactly say we had experienced holiday 'romances', but our escapades were away from home and not part of real life somehow, so we didn't even mention it to each other. Jenny didn't know I knew about her and Roger, and I certainly wasn't going to mention it in case she was embarrassed or felt that somehow I had been more restrained. Knowing Jenny had had so much pleasure was reward enough for me, so the subject was dropped.

A day later Jenny had gone to do some shopping for her children while I caught up on my tan. While I hadn't actually seen anything forbidding topless sunbathing in the resort, I also hadn't seen anyone doing it. Given the youth and perfection of some of the women there, I might have been loathe to face the competition anyway. So when it came to working on my all-over tan, I tended to stay within the privacy afforded by our little veranda area. With screens to left and right and a slight rise between us and the beach, it was quite private and I reckoned that anyone who really wanted to see my body was welcome anyway. So I lay back on the lounger, slipped off my top and worked in the oil.

After the events of two nights before, I was slightly amused to find that my body responded to my own touch so easily as I circled my nipples with my slippery fingers. As I watched them engorge, I mused that although I had enjoyed the forbidden moment and had certainly climaxed satisfactorily, I still felt somehow unsatisfied as if the game were not over. Perhaps Jenny's 'stealing' Roger had something to do with it, although I had not wanted him again and had thoroughly enjoyed hearing her pleasure.

Still, the memory of the illicit sex - and, I must admit, of the 'awakening' of Jenny - was pleasurable and I felt suitably wicked as I reclined. Wicked enough, in fact, to decide to enjoy the warm balmy air on all of my body, so I slipped off my bikini bottoms too and lay back enjoying the pleasure of the warm sun reaching into all of me.

Looking up into the clear blue sky with the gently moving coconut palms was delightful, and instead of turning to my book I just put on my shades and lost myself luxuriating in the sun for a while. This was the life. In fact, I smiled to myself, the resort went to a great deal of trouble to create such a perfect worry-free environment for us. A couple of days ago, I had even seen one of the local guys climbing the coconut palms to an incredible height, lopping off the older leaves and cutting off the not yet quite ripe coconuts so that the guests should not be exposed to the dangers of dropping fruit. The palms grew to quite a height, and I had been most impressed by the way the guy had just walked straight up it, aided by some sort of clawed attachment to his boots which gave him incredible grip. At the top he had clipped a belt round the tree and used both hands to hold and free the fruit, throwing it down to drop harmlessly on the grass below. Sometimes it broke as it fell, the creamy white milk splashing from it as it opened. The gardener had cut some of the broken ones, serving the fresh white flesh to Jenny and me on the tip of his machete. It had been cool and rich and sweet and slippery, so unlike the dry stuff I had always had before. The memory made me smile... this was what a tropical holiday should be.

Daydreaming, the leaves swaying lazily above creating a sense of movement, unsolidity from earth to sky I was floating in the warm air. The distant surf and rattle of the palm leaves combined to create a music all of its own, a music which started to develop a slow rhythm, even the occasional deep chunking sound backing it.

In my trance-like state, it was only when I heard a heavy thud that I realised that the coconut man was back. It startled me, even though it fell well away from me, and despite my sunglasses I had to squint awkwardly up through the leaves to see his silhouette against the sky. The chunking noise must have been his boots on the trunk, I realise. I work out he is on the other side of the trunk facing this way, and I give him a wave before I remember that it probably isn't a good idea to draw attention to myself. He's so busy I'm not sure if he sees anyway, and presently there is another thud as another of the green fruit drops and bursts, its contents spilling on the grass around. Some dying leaves follow and they clear a space around the gardener's head. It is still, then he waves his free hand and I feel I have to wave back but what the hell.

The next coconut drops decidedly closer, deliberately I bet and I smile at the thought that he is trying to frighten me. I notice that this one has spattered its juice in thick drops, even reaching my leg. I draw it up on my finger and taste its creamy warmth. There is another rustle, more leaves fall and I can see his silhouette chopping at the leaves, more palm fronds parting around him. A couple more heavy thuds, then I hear the chunk chunk of his climbing gear on the trunk again.

I drift back into my reverie watching the trees and the sky, only slightly aware of the sounds as the leaves are collected beyond the shrubs and the rise that have restored my privacy. There is the sound of his cheery greeting to another guest, the distinctive crack as he opens another coconut and I hear their murmurs of delight at the fresh taste. More rustling, then the noises move away, and I relax a little - though I must admit the inadvertent exposing of myself gave me a little thrill.

Then the rustle is back - a little different this time, it seems. I open one eye, and am slightly shocked to find my coconut man standing there on my side of the shrubs with another slab of pure white coconut held on his outstretched machete. He looks almost puzzled for a moment, but then he is smiling with his eyes everywhere except on my face. It would be silly to say he is undressing me with his eyes as there is nothing left for his imagination to remove, but I feel myself bathed in his long slow look. About all I can do for modesty is close my legs tightly, which I do.

'You like?' he says, offering me the coconut on the big knife, and as he jerks it forward a little the milk drops from it on to my belly. We both watch as it trickles down over the bikini line and halts in the tangle of dark hair, to form a little pool under the curls. The effect is incredibly erotic. I look up at him and again he thrusts the machete towards me. 'You like?' I take a piece of the offered coconut and slide it into my mouth, and he smiles... It is as if I have accepted a deeper offer. Perhaps in a way I have, for he can see I am not too alarmed and in fact I feel a familiar stirring within. 'I like.'

He smiles and tips the big knife slightly so more milk dribbles from it, and moves his arm so that the drops move up my body. Again our eyes follow - that was clearly no accident. 'Good for sun,' he says. Now the decision rests with me - turn him away, go on teasing, or what? My body is reminding me the game isn't over, and while I haven't done anything like this for years the combination of fresh air and my nakedness in front of a stranger are urging me onwards. Without thinking I have repeated my earlier action, taking some milk on my finger and licking it off, and I have no doubt of the message I am sending.

The top half of his body is bare, dark, glistening slightly, a strong torso but wiry like his arms. He has a heavy leather belt with hooks which attach to the rope round the tree and frayed denim shorts which have seen better days. Beneath the belt is, I am flattered to note, a quite sizeable bulge from which I move my eyes hastily but not fast enough. When I catch his eye again he smiles even more broadly. The inevitable question again: 'You like?'. I know this isn't all the English he knows for Jenny and I chatted to him just the other day, but now it seems all he is capable of saying. Perhaps it is all he needs to say, for all I would have to do now is say 'I like' and I could be enjoying a very sudden and naughty experience.

'And a delicious one,' says my body from nowhere, and just as I'm about to say no thanks he moves, a sort of sinuous rippling motion that seems to start with his hands, run up to his neck then down through his body to the denim secret. I feel my body melt my inhibitions and everything else that should hold me back. I hold his gaze and he offers the coconut again, no words, just an offer. This time I sit up, feeling my breasts moving freely, drawing his eyes. I reach out for the machete and, steadying the tip with my right hand, move my head so I can take some of the soft flesh with my lips. I push more into my mouth with my finger. I eat it slowly, savouring its slipperiness. If I look along the knife I can see his belt, see his bulge, see him moving almost unconsciously with a an appealing rhythm. 'I like,' I say.

The decision made, I wonder how to move from here outside to the room. He is hot and presumably thirsty after his work. 'Would you like a drink?' I ask. He grins, and then to my surprise, horror and delight, drops to his knees at the end of the lounger and slides his tongue rapidly up my leg and buries his head in my bush. Almost instinctively I bring my knees up around his body, opening my pussy to his mouth and feeling him immediately covering my lips. The speed with which we have moved from flirtation to intimate sex in the open startles me but the thrill I feel makes me open to enjoying it to the full. His wiry hair is suddenly all I can see of him but I can feel him, oh god can I feel him. His face feels rough against the smooth skin of my inner thighs but his lips and tongue are lapping insistently at my entrance, and I am sure he can tell from the way I am moving back against him that I am enjoying the experience.

I reach up behind my head and hold the back of the lounger with both hands to steady myself as I raise my hips slightly to encourage his assault. His hands, dark and rough, slide over my bare skin and down beneath to cup my bottom and feed my pussy to his mouth - the most divine sensation. Having succumbed to temptation I am now ready to enjoy it to the full, and I writhe and squirm as his tongue dives around, over, into my most sensitive areas. I throw my head back, a smile on my face, the shape of the coconut leaves over my head reminding me of the origin of this most unexpected pleasure.

To the sound of the leaves now is added my harsh breathing as I attempt to control the noise I am making. This is hard because, frankly, my pussy is now receiving the attention it has been craving for days and I want to let rip and enjoy it, but the thought of others just over the ridge is a little limiting - if exciting. Meanwhile the coconut man is just over my ridge... his tongue is delving between my pussy lips and pushing into me like a little cock, while his lips and teeth are playing on my clitoris and I find myself jerking uncontrollably each time he flicks over it.

Now he sucks my whole sexual centre into his mouth, engorging my little man in the boat still further, and the pleasure as his tongue starts to lap steadily at my clit is almost too much. I am whining gently, I realise, giving gentle voice to the pleasure I feel. He stops for a moment and looks up over my stomach, and I see his lips and chin glistening with my juices. I smile and, reaching down, press his head back down so his mouth makes contact once more. I hold him there and wriggle my hips against him, snuggling him into me to continue his delightful work.

This dedicated tonguing out in the open air is just what I need and want. The naughtiness of the situation is enhanced by this man who is taking his time, and he is driving me slowly inexorably upwards. I find I am biting my lower lip but it doesn't hold back the loud groan I let out as he touches me in a particularly sensitive spot. I am aware that the pleasure I feel and want is taking me over, and I am prepared to abandon myself to it totally but I want to be loud as I like and out here... He hits that spot again and this time I gasp and groan together. If this goes on someone is bound to investigate and I do so want it to go on.

I place my hand on his head and pull him gently up by his hair. There is a string of saliva joining his chin to my body, and I smile as I say 'Inside'. He stands up slowly and takes a quick look round while I sit up on the lounger. The bulge in his denims is right in front of my eyes and I run an appreciative hand over it before I stand up and walk into the room. I quickly put the security lock on the door then close the patio door too.

His shorts are off before I turn around and I am greeted by the sight of his cock standing proud against the faded T shirt. We scramble on the bed together and now I am treated to his hot mouth on my breasts and his hot fingers between my legs. His cock is pressing on my thigh, long and hard and promising and my hands are on his arms and his back and his neck, pulling him towards me down on to me, savouring the hard body half above me.

I would like to taste him here, now, but that would be crazy... I lick and suck at his body instead, taking the unfamiliar exotic blend of skin and taste and sweat as my reward, fluttering my tongue over his torso. I am feeling him with one hand, sizing up his cock, enjoying the sensation of him growing in my palm.

I don't want to stop so I grope around above my head in the bedside drawer... I'm sure I put those condoms in there. There they are... hate them but this is a necessity... the box is open to my surprise maybe Jenny was more careful than me... well done, makes it easier for me one-handed now anyway... Pull out foil-wrapped ring and open it above the coiled hair of the man sucking on my nipples.. push him away so he can see... He sits up, penis jutting towards me, making it so easy to wrap him in the rubber, smoothing it down.... he is quite impressive and my pussy is fluttering already....

I have hardly spoken to this man, never kissed him but know the taste of his body and now oh glory he knows me as he moves athletically, jumps almost, to arms either side of me, legs between mine, hips so close, cock closer, outside, outside, moving closer, then inside and "Uurrrgh,' I groan with pleasure as he slides smoothly into the wet embrace of my body.

He is at home within me, moving steadily into an easy soothing rhythm to which my body responds. It is still bright in the room and I look up once again at the head above me almost silhouetted but this time closer, much closer, and I am again spread beneath him and this time around him, his knife replaced by a deeper better weapon which is sooooo satisfying.

It has all happened so fast, so sudden the move from gentle relaxation to gentle tongue to gentle penetration and now, as I accept the gentle fucking of the coconut man I really look at him for the first time today, this stranger my lover, and I see he is smiling at me, one of those smiles from the eyes, and I know it is all right. I smile back, a smile from deep within, and I run my hands up his arms and stroke his neck and his hair as he strokes my insides. We look at each other in the quiet room, the sun-dark muscular man and the slim pale woman, connected by our mutual enjoyment. It is very quiet in the room, the noise of the surf muted by the closed glass but just audible; the occasional gentle creak from the bed; the slithering of sheets as, unwanted, they slide to the floor; the of flesh sliding on flesh and into flesh, the slightly harsh breathing of two people playing the oldest game...

It is so complete, this moment... pleasure pure and simple. Perhaps pure is a funny word to use for this casual adulterous sex but in a way it is pure, not tied up with reactions and conversations about mortgages or laundry, no previous experiences to get in the way, no knowledge of each other's bodies to create expectations... I appreciate my husband and how well he knows my body, but the sensation of being touched in a new way, of a man who touches me here instead of there, like this instead of like that, moves this way not that way, all of these things add up to a deep excitement and eroticism which exceeds even the physical pleasure involved in this slow firm fucking.

And the physical pleasure is immense. Despite the condom and my own excited state I feel the delightful shape of the dark cock within me, its bulging head stretching my pussy walls, plundering the soft warm flesh within. This is not the frenzied slightly drunken coupling I had with Roger: I am fully alive, fully present to enjoy every moment of glorious penetration. And I tilt my pelvis the better to accommodate my new friend.

We have fallen into a very satisfying routine now. He pulls out nearly all the way, which almost creates a loss within me and I move towards him a little, then a moment's pause, then smoothly he fills me again, down, down on my body until his whole body is pushing against me inside me and I can feel the tip at the top of my vagina, an electric trail where it has slid along and up and touched my core. Because he is still on unbent arms I can reach down without difficulty to touch myself. I spread myself open to him, then keep my hand there, using my finger to stir my clit as he continues the slow fucking... mmm I love this combination.

And don't think I am only receiving. His nipples are surprisingly sensitive for a man, I find, and I stroke and tease them with my other hand, occasionally raising my head to lick and suck and bite them a little... I hear him gasping when I do that, as I gasp when sometimes his ringed head rubs on that special spot as he enters me again. After this has happened, what, four or five times in as many minutes I feel the jolt inside that releases the butterflies of pleasure. I know that I will climax at the end of this dedicated intense loving but I am in no hurry... I want the feeling to last, the delight within me to go on building, and I am quite prepared to hold back as long as I can.

We change positions now. At first when he withdraws completely I suffer a moment of panic but then he lies beside me and bends my leg up over his side so I am open and he can see as well as me... see the long dark shape in its pale coating, glistening slightly with my secretions, nuzzle its way along my swollen labia, touch the nub of my clitoris, retreat and then, guided by his strong fingers, find its way back into the embrace of my pussy. We both seem transfixed by the sight, like the coconut milk earlier, unable to look away as his cock slides into me, opening me and filling me with its welcome size. I find it enormously erotic to see myself being penetrated in this way, and when he starts to use a finger, as I fingered myself before, I shudder uncontrollably. I toss the hair back off my face the better to watch... even though I can see how his fingers are moving the sensation is still better, more unexpected than doing it myself, and the sight of his fingers swimming in the wetness that I have created - we have created - against the background of that slowly thrusting cock gives me the most enormous thrill.

There is a pulse deep within me now, a gentle throbbing centred on the sensations coming from my pussy but which I feel all over my body. I respond now, moving my body on my lover as he moves in me, matching the throbbing with a rhythm of my own making. The coconut man senses the change within me. He raises his head from where he is tonguing my breast and looks into my eyes, observes me biting my lower lip. I think he can tell I am approaching the last lap and he smiles another of those broad smiles deep from his eyes to mine.

I move back beneath him now, still the best position for me, and take him deep within as he starts a slow deliberate thrusting which draws a little moan from me. He is still smiling and I gasp as I smile back, he is touching me everywhere inside and it just feels ummmm... I throw my head back and start to move against his circling plunging cock, no need for fingers now for as he goes deep he crushes his body against me, his hair touching then squeezing against my clit in the way I love so well. I am taking another thrusting, but this is a whole different experience, joy more than lust, smiling and gasping at the same time, taking my penetration and pounding against the bed completely, feeling the pounding within of impending orgasm rising, rising...