Coconut Milk

At just about the exact moment she lifted the bowl to her lips - I believe that is when I fell in love.

Or lost my mind.

It can be difficult to tell.

She held the coconut milk against her lips for an instant before her face broke into a grin, her violet eyes glinting in the sunlight, her cheeks rising into perfect dimples, her nose wrinkling. The bowl tapped against her perfect teeth. She held it away from her as she tried to recollect herself, closing her eyes against the sunbeams before trying again. This time, she takes a small taste and holds it in her mouth. At the corner of her lips, the pale and watery juice drooled out. She dragged her arm across her pretty face to wipe it away, even as I prayed silently she'd leave it there. She swallowed, then smiled at me, squinting against the brightness of the light through the palm trees.

Our guide took the bowl from her, and there was a general sound of appreciation from the gathering. Everyone in the circle began to turn to each other, laughing and chatting or otherwise noting the beautiful handiwork of the bowl. Some of them, more subtly, noting beauty of the girl.

Her eyes still glinted, and she was looking right at me. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't have looked away.

*

That night, at the hostel, we met again under the palm frond awning of the bar. She sits and orders us both rum and cokes. The air was humid, and people were sitting in chairs with bamboo legs fanning themselves as they drink and laugh. I could see one triangular blue sun-shaped tattoo on her pale thigh peeking out of her cut-off shorts. As I watched her sip her drink, a bead of sweat tumbled from her neck and down her bare, sun-tanned chest and between her breasts.

We talked for a while as the liquor settled into us both. I learned her name, and she asked me where I'm from. I didn't know how to reply: I've been wandering for so long that I'm not really from anywhere, I told her. She said I was lucky. That she would love to be able to wander just like me. And I told her, you can - anyone can.

She didn't reply to that, although it looked as though she wanted to.

Before long, we were alone in the hostel bar. The others had gone for walks along the shore or other night-time activities of tourists. Or perhaps they had heard the way we were laughing, seen the way she touched my thigh when I fumbled my words, felt the pulsing heat coming in waves from off of our bodies and our spirits and had decided, biting the insides of their cheeks, to give us the room. Even the bartender went missing. I lifted my empty rattling glass to the soft yellow lights and was about to ask her if she wanted another, but when I turned, she was moving towards me with the agility of a jungle cat. She kissed me, softly at first, just of center with my lips - she tasted as sweet as cola, smelled like saltwater, suntan lotion, and wet heat. My lips parted and our tongues met. I felt her hand on the inside of my thigh.

Any thought of another drink left me at that moment. My mind in that moment was an empty glass, then filled to the brim with rose water.

When, at last, we pulled away from each other and the scent of tropical flowers began to overtake the scent of her, I blinked stupidly and opened my eyes. She was grinning, tilting her head at me. She asked if we could go back to my room.

Or perhaps she didn't even ask. Perhaps I heard her say it in my mind. Already, I felt as though we'd known each other for years. I felt as though I were the tree she'd taken shelter under from a monsoon. As the sheets of passion cascaded over me and I was windswept in the torrent, she stood safely beneath with a knowingly smile on her lips.

So we went back to my room, a simple accomodation with dim lighting and eucalyptis furniture. She took me by my shirt and pulled me towards her. We kissed at the doorway as the door closed.

I could feel myself spilling over, flooded with her presence, her smell, the sound of her breaths. I heard the soft rasp of her shirt lifting off her midsection and I looked down, seeing the flatness of her belly, the perfect shape of her navel, the evenness of her tan. I put my hand to her bare skin and felt the smooth tension there, felt her expel air on the inside of my neck. I was intoxicated, not by the rum, but by the smell of her and her longing. I kissed the meeting of her neck and shoulder, and she sighed.

We'd been talking, whispering, speaking nothings to each other. I don't remember what I was saying, or how she replied. I remember her airy laugh and my low tone - nothing else.

Then, I heard her voice in my ear. I knew in that moment what it would be like to be a seashell and have the thoughts of some seaside wanderer whispered into my folds - I was so helpless to reply, crystaline, as unmoving as a conch. But I'll remember those words to the day that I die.

"I want your cum."

Even though I had been slackened by the liquor just a moment ago, I was now fully erect. Throbbing, even. I think that I groaned.

She laughed at me. Her laugh was like a warm night breeze through parted curtains.

My room at the hostel was sparse. Wooden floors, grayed by time and salt-water air, a blue circular rug, a simple but comfortable bed done up with lime green comforters. A nightstand with my journal on it, beside a paper lamp. I gripped her by her thighs and lifted her towards the edge of the bamboo bedframe.

As I carried her, she smiled down at me. She felt incredibly light, and she didn't so much as twitch on our way. Her face held some kind of secret knowing, and I could feel her expression even as I closed my eyes to kiss her neck.

When he reached the mattress's edge, she wrapped her thighs around me in a single fluid motion. My cock pressed against her, and I could feel her warmth and wetness, like a humid forest. She reached her arms across her and took the hem of her shirt. Her bare breasts dipped gently as she peeled it off, and her nipples were hard, a dark, forbidden sort of pink. I put my mouth on one and she shuddered. Her hands went to her waist again. I was still teasing her nipple with my tongue when I realized that she was unbuttoning my pants.

I want your cum.

As my trunks dropped to my ankles, a fresh vision of her blossomed in my mind, naked this time, her full breasts dappled by the sunlight through the palms. In my mind, the edges of her lips were white with cocount milk.

I lifted my face from her breast, and she took this exact moment to take me by both sides of my head and pull me towards her for a deep kiss. She still smelled like a monsoon, tasked like the rain. I could feel myself throbbing, now nakedly against her shorts. I was practically whimpering with longing.

Our kiss ended, and she looked me full-on in the face. Her lip curled in a smirk.

In the blink of an eye, our positions were reversed. She had flipped over me, pressing my back against the bed, her hands on my bare chest. Like a gecko, she clambered over my body, her fingers spread and clutching gently. She slid down my torso until her face was level with my naked crotch.

And, oh god. The moment she put me inside of her mouth. I watched it, saw her lips part, and saw her wrap them around the pale shaft of my cock, but I still couldn't believe the sensation of it, couldn't believe the warmth and wetness that made my lungs burn as though the air had turned to fire and my cock lurch as though I was already about to erupt. I gripped the sheets and gritted my teeth.

Her violet eyes met mine, her mouth on my cock, her hand at the base and the other between my thighs. Her eyes glinted with mischief. With a smile.

I clenched my eyes shut. Looking at her would be too much. On its own, the way her tongue slid over me and her head lowered - slowly at first, then with greater speed, tilting with the curve of me as she turned her hands like she was wringing me out - was enough to make me feel as though I'd left my body.

I've never been...quick. But this was threatening to make it so. I fumbled for her head, trying to form words and failing. I'd meant to caress her forehead, but I only succeeded in grabbing a hold of her dark and salt-stiffened hair. She glanced up at me, her eyes wide and her lashes dark. Again, I felt a pull at my navel, as though I was a dam about to burst. I winced aloud, just as she forced my cock into her throat, her lips kissing the very base, the entirety of me disappearing into her...

And then she pulled back. My eyes were shut, but I could feel her silhouette rising over me. I shimmied backwards on the bed as I heard her shorts dropping from her, glimpsed her bare legs as she mounted me, now lit only by the moonlight through the window: as dark as the ocean at night.

I was still as hard as a whetstone when I felt the tip of my cock at her entrance. She was guiding me like a pilot manning an aircraft controls. She tilted her head back when the head of my penis entered her, the lips of her vulva opening around me, as smooth as velvet, as wet as silt. She gasped aloud when I lifted my hips to press deeper into her, and I thought I'd moved too quickly - I reached out and palmed on of her breasts, massaging it, brushing my thumb against her nipple. But it wasn't for lack of readiness: she was rubbing her clit, and her sex was slick and pliant.

She was biding her time.

Then she worked me into her, plunging onto me like she'd fallen from a great height, and I heard her squish onto me, enveloping me completely, taking all of me at once. We moaned together, and she settled back to press me deeper, rocking back on her haunches until I could feel her buttocks against my sack, juddering once before rising and falling, starting a motion that made my body tense into an arch: my head pressed back in the pillows and my feet curled. I moaned again to myself, then felt her cool hand on my sternum. She leaned forward, and with the moonlight glinting off her smile, she whispered it again.

"I want your cum."

I groaned, stiffening even further as she bounced happily, her breasts swaying, her breathing perfectly timed with her rhythm, lowering herself onto me in a squat and then lifting herself off my glistening cock with magical force. I put my hands on her thighs but I needed have bothered. She was rising and falling completely of her own strength, with a poise and control that seemed impossible. The soft slap of her against my pelvis was like the insistent lapping of waves on the shore.

I was almost there. I couldn't speak, but I met her eyes. She leaned over me and kissed me, never stopping for a second, and when her lips left mine, a string of my saliva connected us, and she giggled as she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Straightening her back and looking down on me with the confidence of a jaguar standing over her prey, she extended her neck and grinned.

"Where?" she said. She tilted her head as though puzzled.

But there was joy in her eyes - she was making fun of me. I knew only enough to recognize that. I grunted nonsensically and gasped as she dipped again, crying out ecstatically as my cock slid into her fully. Then (without stopping) she screwed up her eyes and asked me again.

"Where?"

"Wh-where...what?" I breathed.

She leaned over me. Her fingertips pressed into my collarbone. She spoke into my ear, but even as I breathed in the scent of her hair, I felt as though I could see her face in my mind. Coconut milk on her lips.

"Where do you want to cum?" she said.

I dropped my head back. I clenched my jaw.

"Where do you want to cum?" she asked again, rising up straight.

"I-" was all I could manage.

"Do you want to cum in my pussy?" she says. She rocks back again, deeper. "In my ass?" She grazes her fingers across her face, pulling stuck strands of hair from the sweat on her cheeks. "On my face?" She lifted herself to the apex of her swing and stopped. I moaned aloud with longing, but she only lifted herself higher as I reached out to her.

"Answer me," she said. She took a fistful of the hair on my chest. "Where do I want to cum."

I'm really not sure what went through my mind in this moment. It didn't feel so much like a thought as an electric pulse from somewhere else. Something else was coursing through me, spasming my muscles and forcing the air from my lungs. Sometimes, when I think back to that night - which is often - I think that maybe the thought came from her. That maybe she sent it to me through our enjoined flesh and made me say what I said.

So what I said was:

"Everywhere."

And her smile widened. Her eyes narrowed, and her nose wrinkled. She let go of the hair on my chest.

"Good," is all that she said.

And she leapt off of me, then lunged on all fours onto the bed.

I stood in a daze and turned to see the beautiful girl's backdoor winking at me, her pussy lifted and fragrant, her face in the pillow. I took my cock in my hand and put it to her behind, and she squealed with pleasure as I guided it to her dark asshole, saying, "Yes, yesss," and reaching between her thighs as I reached over her to the nightstand drawer for a bottle of lube.

She told me to spit on it, which I did even though I had the lube. The sound she made and the way she shivered as the full summoning of my saliva landed on her rear entrance will forever raise the hairs on the nape of my neck. I pressed into her slowly, and her moan of pleasure rose to a fever pitch as I slid into her, withdrew, entered slowly again, pulled back, and then slammed into her for all of my worth. She moaned terrifically, and already I could feel molten seed stirring in me...

She was wailing now, and crying out instructions as she took my cock at full force. "Save it - AH! Gahhhiim gonna cum! - put it in me there!" she said into the pillow. Even half muffled, there could be no mistaking her meaning. She glanced back at me over her shoulder, her cheek pressed against the sheet and her hair falling in her eyes. "I w-want you to come inside of me! Ffffuck!" And it wasn't long before it was time, and I was spilling over.

I pulled out and stroked my cock once before wedging myself into her sex, sinking into her like a docking vessel, ending with my pelvis pressed into her firm bottom. She cried out until there was only air, only a high whine, and then I felt it ripple through me, and I started to spurt. I was fulling and uncontrollably cumming into her, and her breath was now coming to her in hiccupping gasps.

I wrenched myself out of her and a full rope of my semen blasted onto her ass, dribbling between her cheeks. Another followed, the milky white cum landing on her back. Then she sat back on her calves, forcing me back with my member in my hand. She turned and dropped down to her knees, a narrow miss from fully collapsing into me. When her face was at the level of my pelvis, she looked up with triumph in her eyes and opened her mouth wide, showing me her dark red tongue. She flinched as I issued forth another string of cum that landed in her hair. She grabbed my cock and aimed it for her mouth, just as the final stream of a seemingly endless orgasm jetted forth onto the side of her mouth and into her throat. She grinned again, open mouthed, and looked up as the last ropes of cum struck.

She met my eyes.

When it was all over, I sank down to my knees. She laughed her breezy laugh at me, but I simply couldn't help it. I was panting like a dog, and my legs were trembling. I looked up to see her gazing at me with her head tilted, milk-white cum still shining dewily in her hair and at the side of her lips.

Then she lifted her arm. And she wiped away my cum with the back of her hand. The image of her swallowing the coconut milk flashed in my mind again and I realized that I'd always see her in that instant, in the moment that I fell in love with her.

She leaned forward timidly - the first time all night was timid. I realized that she wanted to kiss me.

I kissed her then, and if I saw her again, I'd kiss her today. I have never slept better than I did that night, and I have never wanted more mournfully to go back to her.

She tasted like coconut milk.