Montana in Bali

My name is Montana Witherton, and I'm a photographer for an international geographical magazine, a freelance writer for an adult porn rag. I'm thirty years old, six-foot-two, well built, with tanned skin, grey eyes and unkempt dirty blonde hair. I could be rich in a life of luxury, sitting behind a desk, running the empire my father meant to leave to me and not my younger brother. But when I was eighteen, I did something stupid and went to prison for a long time. I kind of learned the value of my freedom right about then. And since I got out, I've made it my goal to live life to the fullest. I eat and drink what I want, go wherever I want, and...I fuck whomever I want. Photography like this takes me all over the world. You should see who I get to fuck...

The editor I work for is named Cindy, and Cindy is pretty hot. She's one of those business babes you think you will only see in the movies, but I'll tell you right now, they exist. She's nothing but legs in tweed, with severe looking hair done up in a bun. But it doesn't take a master like me to know she is one hottie ripe for the plucking.

She has never given me the right signs that she's ready for me, so I haven't fucked her yet, I confess. I guess with at least one woman, I'm biding my time. This job is too sweet to risk for a lay.

Cindy was sending me to Bali on a shoot to check out some beaches. Sometimes I think Cindy considers me her personal travel guinea pig, sending me to the best places before she decides to go there herself.

The island of Bali is part of the Republic of Indonesia and is located 8 to 9 degrees south of the equator between Java in the West and Lombok and the rest of the Lesser Sunda Islands (Sumbawa, Flores, Sumba and Timor) in the East.

I was pretty excited to go there. Australia, Singapore and Hong Kong were only hop-skip-jumps away, and I kind of hoped she would extend my visit and send me around there as well, once I pulled off the Bali job.

The northern part of Bali boasted beaches with black sand, which I thought I might go see later. For now, just upon landing, I just wanted to rest and relax and check out the scenery around the hotel, if you know what I mean.

Most of my trips include a hotel, because I can't stand the self-sufficiency of staying in a villa or cottage. I guess part of me will always be the spoiled lil rich kid. Who cares? I'm not paying! So Cindy wisely set me up at the Chedi hotel near Ubud. When I need privacy, I find it, but I really prefer the professional hotel service to a cottage or a villa.

Driving through Kuta, the cab driver had a lot to tell me about how Australians come to Kuta basically get laid. He said it had to do with how Indonesia was a third world country, how the lighting was dim and the ladies rich, a combination any young man would be daft to pass up on. That kind of made me smile and want to change my stay arrangements. But we continued inland to Ubud, to the Chedi, and I promised myself I would come back and run the gamut of villas along the southern coast, maybe do a feature on what everyone here called Kuta Cowboys. We call them gigolos in America! I chewed my lip in thought as I got out of the cab and entered the hotel, was led to my room and I laid back on the bed to rest, hands behind my head.

I wanted to take pictures soon, maybe find my way up north and check out those black sand beaches tourists seem to hate, find out some information on why they are black and why people hate them!

But this Kuta Cowboy business was twisting around in my head. The cab driver said these guys can say "I love you" in seven different languages! And that they openly confess to having "the only one" in Sweden, "the only one" in France, "the only one" in Australia. Apparently, a lot of rich bitches come to Bali to get laid. But women aren't so simple, and I know this for a damned fact.

Bali was filled with broken hearts. No way to deny it.

I knew there was no way I was going to contribute to the Lonely Hearts Club population. If I was going to get laid, it would have to be a Balinese girl. And with all these young twenty-something boys going for the older white ladies, it had to be pretty easy for me to get something local.

I had myself a bath, ordered something to drink, and determined I would stay in at night. Nightlife in Bali doesn't start till around midnight, and then it gets really crazy. I told myself I would get pleasantly fucked up on some wine, pass out, and completely miss all the fun, and thus leave the Kuta Cowboys to do there thing with no help from me.

Those American ladies never had it so rough!

The next day, I determined I would rent one of the motorbikes offered at a shop near the hotel, and take a photo tour of the local artisan villages. Ubud has been considered the cultural center of all Bali since the 1930s when different German artists had their homes there. And several villages have been preserved since then, continuing their particular art craft. Batubulan is known for stone carving, something I saw evidence of even in the Chedi's architecture, little carvings and pieces of furniture here and there. Celuk is known for its silver and gold jewelry, Mas for woodcarving, and Pengosekan for painting. It seemed like once travel to Bali became easily possible, a world of rich native delights opened up to the Eastern and Western countries above, and spice was no longer the only export.

So, a village tour it was. I considered making it take a few days, then maybe hopping over to the Monkey Forest near Sangeh and the Mother Temple in east Bali. But it all depended on Cindy's mood. If she decided I didn't have much time, she'd rip me out of wherever I was and send me somewhere else, in a wink.

I hopped on the little motorcycle, which was more of a dirt bike, and headed out. The weather wasn't too bad, but because I was staying in Ubud for this trip, I could expect clouds and showers, regardless of what time of year it was.

Most of the villages had the air of commercialism around them. I didn't want to take any pictures of that. I wanted some honest-to-goodness craftsmanship, and it was hard to find. But find it I did, eventually.

It was afternoon and I'd had some wine and some roasted duck at a local café I'd managed to drive around and find. Then I was heading out, ready to leave the village of Celuk altogether.

I was frustrated, I was sweating, and the sky couldn't decide if it was sun or rain, so there was a continual haze of moisture just hanging there. I had my camera out, and had parked my bike near the café when I decided to walk the outskirts of the village.

In the marketplace, I had already found many wizened old men and women calling out the value of their wares to the passing tourists, with whom I blended in perfectly, of course, in my khakis and with my camera hanging around my neck. The only thing that set me apart was the lack of sunglasses, which always got in my way, and the big pack that I had hoisted on my shoulder – more film and different lenses, just in case.

I was passing by one stall, and I looked down to see a wizened old man looking back at me. Nothing new there, except draped around him was this young girl. She couldn't have been that old, but she was definitely a woman. She was wearing a flowered toga-type of clothing, and even had the expected orchid tucked behind one ear. I thought to myself, now here is a real piece of sex!

But when she turned those almond shaped eyes of brown to look up at me, pure innocence was all I could see.

It's said that the Kuta Cowboys never date girls their own age or nationality here in Bali. I was pretty well ready to call them all morons, after looking at this girl.

I lifted my camera to take a picture of her and the old man she was entangled with, but she looked away at the last second, ruining a great photo op. I kept clicking anyways, being sure to show proper interest in the silver necklaces with thin charms hanging from them, to keep myself from being clobbered over the head by the stick the man had in his hand.

Then, tired of hiding her face I suppose, the young woman got up and scattered, leaving the old man glaring at me and muttering. I had no idea what kind of relationship they had. But the man didn't leave his stall to go look for her, so it couldn't have been that serious.

Maybe she's just his daughter, I told myself. It's completely possible she's just an older daughter, unmarried, still hanging around and being Daddy's little girl. Did Daddy girls drape themselves over their fathers differently in Bali, maybe? Who knew? It could happen! How could I know?

That's the thing about traveling to different countries and experiencing different cultures. Nothing is "normal" anymore. Lots of times, you find things that back home you thought were normal are abhorrent to people out in the real world.

I was pretty disappointed she had left. I had seen a lot of women while staying in Bali, but none so poignantly local as this one. All the others had been making eyes at me and my wallet, and had promptly left off once it became obvious I wasn't your average tourist. Sure, I'm a good-looking guy. But in Bali and countries like it, you've got to have green in order to get some.

No money, no honey, that's what the Kuta Cowboys say.

I started walking back to my bike, then I looked over my shoulder, just by chance. The girl was there, standing on the edge of the village. She was glancing back and forth, here and there. I had no idea what she was looking for, but seeing her again, standing no more than what, five-foot-one at the most? I got a tingle in my groin.

I'd been here already almost twenty-four hours without so much as a blowjob. I wanted some action, some local action. I left my bike where it was and pretended to look at some passing monkeys, clicking my camera while keeping an eye on the girl.

She started to disappear into the tall banyan trees around the village. I began to follow.

She was a wily one, and I almost got lost several times. She didn't realize she was leading me along, of course. But I kept my head about me, even in these humid climes, and made sure I could find my own way back to the village. If she went too far, I'd give up the chase.

Lucky for me, she stopped soon after. There was a stream through the trees here, although it was very well hidden by the tall, thick green leaves. Plants and flowers grew right up to its edge, leaving only the smooth rocks that it poured over free of flora. Water was falling down a slight incline next to where the girl sat down, and monkeys and birds were all around us, calling out to each other. It was safe enough to get a few good pictures in.

The girl sat down on the rocks, pulling her dress up to her thighs. I watched, intrigued. Was I going to have the pleasure of watching a native girl bathing? I couldn't believe my luck when she began to do exactly that! She undid the silver brooch she was using to clasp the flowery material of her dress just over her breasts. Then she set the dress aside, over some bamboo shoots near the stream to keep it dry.

The pool she was next to wasn't enough to immerse her whole body in, and I was so grateful for that. She stood up once to swing her hair over her shoulder, and I just gawked. Her hair was so long and straight, down to a rounded ass that was so apple-shaped I wanted to bite it. She had slender girlish hips, and thin thighs and legs, with curving calves. Her entire skin was one long tanned color, no lines. And right on cue, the sun started coming out, peeking through the trees and making my view that much more exotic.

Between her thighs was a dark, downy tuft of hair that made me drool. The girl sat down again, hair hanging over her far shoulder now, covering only one of her gorgeous round breasts she sported so naturally. The nipples were a dark chocolate color, and I had an urge to taste them.

I was pretty sure she didn't think I had followed her. Then, as her hand began to travel down to the insides of her thighs, and she began to close her eyes in the characteristic fashion of a woman thinking naughty thoughts while pleasuring herself, I knew for certain she thought she was alone.

It was difficult to move back into the trees just then, disappearing into the vinery and losing sight of her. But I wanted to get a better look at her, and what her hands were doing between her dark thighs. I moved around the stream, down lower, and finally found the perfect place to set up the tripod in my backpack. I quietly thanked whatever monkey god the Balinese worshipped for making his minions so loud, and set the camera up on its stilts, pointing it at the girl through the trees.

She was unleashed now, and I had missed her gentle foreplay. Now she was into teasing lovemaking, touching herself very intimately. I could see right between her thighs from this point of view. I set a new roll of film into the camera and put it on automatic, the little shutter whirring and clicking every thirty seconds or so. Then I stood up, my hand wandering almost instinctively to the bulge in my pants.

Her fingers were long, slender, an artist's fingers, as she pulled apart the petals of her dark rose. I licked my lips, watching as she played with the pearls of her pleasure. And I gulped as she lifted a finger to her own lips, and lapped eagerly at her fingertips before going back to her garden.

She scooted forward more on the rock, unknowingly moving closer to the camera, spreading her thighs wider for my electric eye. Her eyes were closed, and her head tilted back, that dark sheen of hair slipping behind her now, leaving both her round breasts exposed. Her nipples were hard, either from her excitement or the chill water of the stream, who cares? She was just a picture of ecstasy. I knew she would cum soon. But, I determined I wanted to be there personally when she did.

Boldly, I stalked my prey, making my way back around behind her. She didn't hear me coming up as she continued to finger-fuck herself. She didn't hear me taking off my shirt, or undoing my shorts. I even took off my boots for this girl, and she didn't stir, though her hips were now bucking softly back and forth, to force her fingers deeper within her crevice.

When my hands began to slip around her upper arms, to cup her breasts, she squealed and turned and looked up at me. I released her immediately. This was the moment I would find out if I was going to be charged for a dozen different local violations, rape included. Or if I was about to enter Balinese heaven through the gates of paradise.

The girl had to choose for me. She looked me up and down, where I was kneeling naked behind her, my chest heaving. And she chose paradise to my prison.

She turned back to the stream, blushing but no longer looking so panicked and wild. I moved my arms around her again, her breasts filling my palms, my mouth against her ear. Her tits were perfect, and I rolled them around in my hands, mashing them together. She had taken her finger out of her pussy and was just teasing herself now, moving her fingers over her cunt in time with my hands. I knew she could feel the rock-hard pressure of my cock against the small of her back. I wanted her, and wanted her badly.
Slowly, I turned her around to face me. Then I dropped my mouth down to hers, softly at first. Women have always loved the way I kiss, and that's kind of good, because I love kissing women!

My tongue entered her mouth and she seemed overwhelmed, startled, so I moved slower. I reached out with one hand for her dress and laid it like a pillow on the wet rocks, laying her back on it slowly.

Then she was beneath me, and I was kneeling between her spread thighs. I put my hands on my legs then, just for a moment taking in this local wonder that was 'woman' all wrapped up in a dark, flower scented package.

I couldn't handle that for very long though, before my mouth was dropping to her tits. I suckled her nipples, pulling at them with my lips tightly, then nipping at them. At first, she seemed unsure what to do. Then her fingers went up into my hair as I licked and sucked at her breasts. And she gave in to liking what I was doing to her just in time for me to start going lower.

I lapped my way down her belly, and her shivering and writhing told me she'd never had anyone do this to her before. That was in my favor, because when it comes to an experienced man and an inexperienced woman, well, that just makes it all the easier on the man! I put a hand on either of her trembling thighs, pushing them even further apart as I looked at her previously un-suckled sex. She was dark pink, like cherries wrapped in chocolate in a box. And she smelled incredibly sweet. I licked at her, hard, brutally hard. And she trembled. I did it again, several times, helping her get over the strange feeling of having someone between her thighs with their mouth. Once she was used to that, I could move on to the real pleasures.

My tongue danced over the insides of her flower, and I licked slowly and carefully over every inch of her crevice. Her clitoris was small but hard, and I suckled it like I had suckled her nipples, teasing at it with my tight firm lips, then nipping at it slightly. She cried out softly at each new touch, and her moaning sounds made my cock jump and bounce. But I was determined to enjoy all of her.

My tongue began to slip between her tinier, sweeter inner labia. I love cunt lips, love to tease and lick at them. But I wanted to be inside her so much, I forced my tongue deep into her slit and flicked it furiously around in her sheath. She groaned and gripped my hair tightly, and soon she was cumming over my lips, nectar so sweet and almost spicy, probably from her local diet.

She was totally drenched now. I got up and leaned over her, kissing at her neck as her body came down from its natural high. Then I got back on my heels, looking at her sex. She didn't seem to know what was going to happen next, but she had closed her eyes and was reveling in the feelings of the after-orgasm.

I took my cock in my hand, stroking it. I was dangerously close to cumming. And there was a foreign pussy in front of me.

I'm a risk taker. I always have been. Here I was out in the jungles of Bali, with a hot tight pussy in front of me, only inches away from the head of my throbbing cock. What was I supposed to do?

I scooted forward. I wanted to stay upright, and watch myself enter her, my shaft dark, but her pussy darker. I pushed the head of myself into her folds, teasing along her. And her eyes flew open and went wide. She said something in Balinese, but I had no idea what it was. She wasn't pulling away, really, so I kept going.

I closed my eyes as she closed around me, her pussy so tight around my cock head. Then I pushed in more, taking a moment to look down. I really wanted to see this.

I reached out and grabbed each of her ankles in my hands and put them together in front of me. This rounded her ass out to me perfectly, her chubby, sex-swollen cunt lips pushing out from between her thighs. I kept my cock head there for only a moment more, then I began to lower it to her ass.

Yep, I was going to take her ass. I had to! The dark pucker of it was too delicious to avoid, and my cock was so hot and so thick just now. I pushed the cock head into her anus, and she babbled again, squirming. Obviously, she'd never had a man do this either. When her tight ass refused me entry, I put my finger into her cunt, wriggling it around and wetting it really well. Then I lowered that to her ass, rubbing it and teasing it. The trick to ass fucking is to make the woman relax as much as possible. She knew I was going to fuck her ass, there could be no doubt about that. Now it was up to her whether she let herself enjoy it, or just wanted to get me off.