South Seas

The wind was gentle, and the soft lapping sounds of waves on the beach soon lulled her unease. She knew that her legs could not carry her far, so when she spotted a smooth rock just a few metres away, she was glad. There was a small hut beside it, but sitting on that rock, shaded by the broad leaves would be more welcomed. The air was salt-tinged fresh, quite unlike the smog-ridden air of Porto.

It was paradise, as advertised. For a long while, she sat on that rock. It was lonely, as she did not even see a single native since that man who brought her ashore. The silence was eerie to a big city girl, although the ever-present natural sounds soon calmed her.

In her reverie, the image of the native's dark-brown eyes intruded. This brought on further tinges to her clitoris. She felt herself getting wet when she remembered all too well the length that his sarong was trying to project. Her self-recriminations slowly faded into obscurity. She sighed once and let her sinful thoughts run its course. She had been deprived for too long. Not by choice either.

She imagined herself untying the knots that held up the sarong. With her hand now firmly cupping her wetting mound, she fantasised how she would measure the now exposed male organ. Whether she would use both hands or just one and do that several times. She closed her eyes and pretended to pull down the hood to expose the engorged purplish head, assuming that he was uncircumcised. Otherwise, she would have to be content with tracing the veins that ran all along his length.

She licked her lips in anticipation of the first drop of precum emerging from the slit, just as she was now swirling her own moisture amongst the sparse, curly hairs that covered her mound. She imagined that it would soon be a torrent of precum the longer she toyed with the mushroom-like head. She knew about the sensitiveness of the underside of the head.

By then, her breathing had gotten heavy, and she felt that the salt was drying on her clothes and legs. Since she had noticed not a single native around, she decided to be bold for once in her life. She quickly got naked on that rock. She thought that the rock surface would be hot to her bare skin, but it was her own body that was on fire. Then there was an added excitement and dread of being secretly watched. She shrugged and became determined to give a good show to whoever might be watching.

The rock was smooth and rounded, by years and years of sea and sand erosion. It was large enough for her to lie down. With her feet spread apart, she imagined how his hard and long cock, could easily mingle both their moisture together. With a finger, she visualised that he would first slide that length up and down her slit, announcing its hardness. When it got to her clit, it would twitch violently a few times. She could feel the blood throbbing in those veins. When the head got to her vulva, he would circle, like a predatory bird. Sometimes pecking and knocking at the door, but never entering. He was torturing her. She would spread the lips apart, allowing him a view of the redness inside.

But he would not commit. At least not at first. The torture would continue on her hooded clitoris. Round and round the tip would lightly touch. There was no pressure, except the occasional twitch, like the irregular beats of the heart. Please, she would cry out in the silence of her mind.

Suddenly, he plunged in. He did not go too far in, nor was he as large as she had imagined. But it was still the most wonderful feeling. Then there was the continuous working on her clitoris. In and out, a pace was set. She buckled her hips in response to his rhythm.

It was not long before she was reaching the feverish height. Ana was not mindful of the lost rhythm. All that was left was for the sweet release that she knew was inevitable. It was a time of violent mashing, ragged breaths and wild abandonment.

She screamed once, and then a short cackle of laughter followed by a pained cry, when her orgasm tore through her seemingly frail frame. It started from her belly and ended all over her body. She even knocked her head against the hard rock. It was intense, both to experience and watch...

******

Jac walked away reluctantly. He was both embarrassed and elated by the physical and emotional feelings tearing through his body and mind. It was like a dream come true. Well, more like a fantasy than a dream. In either case, he had no cause to complain. Briefly though, he saw her crinkle her nose when his smell registered in her dazed mind. That was the signal that he should leave. By that time, Jac's cock was at full mast, the proud eight inch throbbing like a freight train. It was beginning to hurt, without the possibility of release.

The walk to the village was not difficult, although the paths were fully grown with weeds. Not many people used it anyway. Jac did not know why he had beached his sampan close to one of his huts. It was remote and frankly, was falling apart as he had not taken care of it for a while. He guessed that it was something of his criminal nature to look for the least inhibited landing. He kept telling himself that she provided the distraction. And it would not really be a lie.

Jac saw that the newcomer had easily ingrained himself into the hearts of the many unmarried village girls. The visitor was indeed handsome. He would be one of those that usually grace the pages of magazines. A regular pretty boy. He was dressed in a nice polo shirt, and a pair of khaki pants rolled up to the calves to prevent them from getting wet. Jac could also see that the visitor was also not having any success in communicating by the exasperated face and gestures.

Nevertheless, the blush on pretty boy's face could also mean than Jac's special-brew toddy was having an effect. For the uninitiated, toddy would smell and drink like fresh coconut, although with much, much sharper taste. Hassan was smiling like an idiot while shoving full cups of it to pretty boy's face. Jac knew for certain that Hassan could not understand a word pretty boy was saying.

Jac was happy that his plan was going accordingly. He gave the "go" signal to Hassan. He grabbed some food and dry clothes, and stuffed it all into a knapsack. He managed to take a quick bath, trying to rid his body of that awful smell the best he could. The orchids mixed in with the soap helped a bit. Meanwhile, he got to thinking that it would not be a chore to gag and bound her, although he abhorred the need to. Jac was a criminal for sure, but he did have a heart. Just because no one had ever noticed, it did not mean that it did not exist.

He avoided making much noise when he neared the rock. He wanted to surprise her, with food and drinks, seeing how her pale face was the result of seasickness. He could tell that by his own experience aboard that trawler. Food for her misery, it seemed.

Instead Jac froze in place when he got there. He was shocked at the image before him. It would appear that he would receive food for thought more than he would be giving it. The speed in which his cock sprung up did not surprise him. In fact, he thought he would get a heart attack by some much blood flowing so quickly into that small area.

Luckily Jac was wearing a sarong. It was very easy to lift it up and be unencumbered to start stroking his painfully throbbing cock. But first he made doubly sure that the coconut tree he was hiding behind was devoid of any red or another coloured ants.

He followed her tracing of her mound by feeling the blood throbbed in the veins. There was a nice greenish one, fully engorged, running all along the length. He was rather proud of that natural gift. Just as he was also proud of the steel-hardness of it. When she lifted slightly her hood to reveal her clitoris, he felt a violent jerk, followed by what seemed like a torrent of precum. He initially thought that he had prematurely ejaculated, because it sure felt like it.

Jac took deep breaths, letting go from stroking his cock any further to steady himself. He figured that the blood pumping through and the show before him would make him cum without added stimulation. Of course, his hands would inevitably and involuntarily start stroking, in rhythm with her touches. When she slowed and savoured, he did likewise. So too when she quickened and varied her stimulations.

Jac's cock jerked so violently that the hitherto colourless precum was a bit cloudy when she first parted and revealed her depths. Jac had a mini orgasm it seemed. By the time Ana inserted two of her fingers, Jac had lost the rhythm that she had, and could never quite get it back again. That did not matter since he saw that she was slowly losing her rhythm as well, trying to find the same release as he was. He was very glad that it was not too long till then as he was starting to see stars in his eyes.

Jac had unwillingly bit on his tongue drawing blood, which helped to suppress his cry when he, they actually, finally had their true orgasm. The fiery, metallic taste in his mouth only added to the pleasure. And Oh! How pleasurable it was, by the distance his cum had shot out to. He thought it was undoubtedly the furthest. He was forced to breathe deep and long to recover. He heard her cry of pain that she uttered when he saw her body convulsed. He never knew a woman could have such a violent orgasm. That image would surely stick in his mind until the day he dies.

All thoughts about stealing that nice yacht disappeared from his mind. His cock was still hard, although he had regained his breath. All Jac wanted to do now was to make sweet love to that woman. He wanted to experience her orgasm, especially when she could and would draw blood by clawing him. So Jac quickly divested his sarong and walked to her like a 10-feet tall man. She had her eyes closed, which suited his initial plan of attack to the "T."

Jac grabbed Ana's cum soaked fingers and put them in his mouth. The blood that was already present in his mouth blended with the musky but clean-tasting cum. It was certainly a curious mix. And intoxicating as far as he was concerned. He licked it so clean that soap could not have done a better job. Ana still had her legs spread apart, which presented Jac with the finest close-up that he could imagine. An invitation of some sorts, which he accepted gladly.

Ana slowly opened her eyes, but was still unfocused as she was still coming down from her orgasm. In her mind, the man suckling on her thumbs was her dream turned to reality. And she would relish it rather than be appalled. She thought that by closing her eyes again and biting on her lower lip that her dream would hurry up and bring her relief again.

The suckling soon turned their attention to her nipples, which were already pert. She felt soft lips on it, as well as the wetness of a tongue. Her nipples were not the only things to receive that loving attention. She felt goose bumps forming on her areolas as the wet tip of the tongue lightly circled.

It was when Ana felt teeth on her nipples that brought her to semi-consciousness. She let her own hands roam, which eventually found the head that was giving her such pleasure. Ana loved the feeling when she ran her fingers through his soft curls. It was to be brief, as he had begun to move down to her belly and her navel. She was sensitive on her navel, and she snorted when he blew warm air on it. It was supposed to be a laugh. Besides she imagined that her dream would not have minded that sound anyway.

Jac was reluctant to leave her pert nipples and firm papaya-shaped breasts. But her musky womanly smells wafting up was becoming too strong to ignore. He entertained thought about lingering on her smooth and flat stomach, as well as on her equally smooth thighs. But the sparsely haired mound called to him like the fabled Sirens. It took a lot of effort not to jump right in and mash his face to it.

Instead, Jac slowly licked, tasted and kissed along Ana's inner thighs to reach her sacred place. His hands, by their own accord had snaked back up and were gently gripping and kneading her breasts. He was pleased when she gripped his arms, feeling his smooth and rippling arm muscles. Sometimes, itinerant fingers would tweak the nipples, which brought forth low, nasal-sounded moans of pleasure from her. He did not mind his hands having a fun on his own. He still had his nose, which he tried to use to part the few whiffs of curly hair away.

Of course, Jac also had the use of his lips, kissing the moist vulva lightly. All the while, he tried his very best to avoid touching her clitoris. Sometimes, his hair would disobey and he was punished with a slight twitch. Then it was time to bring in his most effective weapon, his tongue. He would alternate between flicking and long, slow licks all along the lips of her vulva. When he felt her responding more rapidly, he finally touched her clitoris. After a while, Jac knew his tongue was beginning to tire, as told by the sore muscles. But she tasted so good that he willed himself the extra energy.

Marcelo never did what her dream lover was doing to her now. He would always say that it was the dirtiest place on a woman's body. But Ana's new dream lover was making her heart beat so fast that she was momentarily afraid that she would die of a heart attack. She willed herself for more control, which was not too successful. The Cyrillic alphabet being written by the tongue on her aching clitoris made her will a laughable farce.

Then came the time when he finally rolled his hardness across the lips, mashing it against her clitoris in the process. The initial entry startled her because this time was so different from her earlier dream. This time, the thickness of the head was so big that it hurt her. Luckily that moment just flew by, and she revelled in the fact that her dream lover had the presence of mind to allow her to get used to his length and girth.

He wanted to make her cum with his tongue alone. But his cock was screaming, achingly, to be involved. It was really feeling being left out. But when it got involved, Jac did not dare to move beyond passing the head through the entrance and inserting his full length in her. Gods! She was snug and hot as hell. He knew that any more movement would make him cum, and that would be a shame for him to do so before she did.

So he let his ardour subside, at least until to a manageable state. He started with slow long strokes, almost fully withdrawing before plunging all the way back in again. Jac felt every interior undulation and folds, and her muscles gripping him as he tried to escape. He knew there and then that he was making love to her, instead of just plain fucking her.

A few more strokes and Ana would be over the edge. She welcomed it, encouraged it the best she could. She could feel the life giving throbs as if they were her own. It would seem like their heartbeats were synchronised, as was their copulation. He was as gentle as possible, an entirely new sensation for Ana, as Marcelo tended to be fast and quick, cumming almost always well before she even half way ready. Apparently her dream loved her instead.

It was not so far away when Jac felt his essence rising from his balls, rising to a finality waiting to be released like a torrential cyclone. Ana's breathing and movements suggested that she was close as he was. She uttered a moan, which sounded different from the rest. It sounded like a consent to let loose the floodgates. With a mighty yell, Jac rammed as far in as he could with all his remaining strength. His cum jetted out against the walls of her cervix like a hammer.

"Argh!..."

With the same cry, Ana had the feeling that first started on her belly, then centring in her loins wash over her like a gigantic wave. It was just as unstoppable. She could barely feel the warm cum that now flooded her womb.

The last moments when the drowning sensation started, Ana had clawed his back, her nails biting deep and drawing blood. Jac barely noticed that. He only knew that he had never felt like that before, at least not that particularly strong. Ana mirrored him, as it was a new sensation for her as well.

Jac bent over and kissed her on her lips for the first time. Ana returned it with her tongue, trying to taste him. It was then when she opened her eyes. The love and post-coital feeling drained from her eyes to be replaced by abject terror. She tried to push him off her, although her weak arms could not. He became the gentleman and disengaged from her. He just stood sheepishly, as Ana tried to cover herself with her hands. Ana knew as well as he did that it was rape. She tried to stand, but the two awesome orgasms that she had, have drained her whatever strength she had left.

All Ana could do was to snarl, "Você é um demónio! Ó Diabo!!..."

Luckily, her clothes were well within reach. She put them on so quickly that she tore a shoulder strap. Jac was disappointed when he did not see her putting on any underwear. He loved seeing women putting on and taking off their underwear.

"Demónio!!!..."

The sobs of coitus had turned into a full force gale of anger and hatred. Ana wanted to scream, but her hoarse voice defeated that. She had no more strength left, at least until she had an hour or two to rest up. She knew that her position was precarious. She tried screaming one more time before giving up entirely and resigned herself to whatever fate he would deal out. Her shoulders slumped as she felt the waves of blackness threatening to engulf her consciousness. The blackness came like a smooth and gentle blanket.

Jac thought that her voice shook the leaves and rumbled the sand. He did not know what she said, but he had been scolded too many times not to recognize the tone. He assumed that his shamefaced smile only added to her anger. He made his smile turn into a snarl that mirrored hers.

By that time, the sun was setting. Jac had always found the time to enjoy those glorious sunsets. The skies with the stringy wisps of clouds had turned golden, not red like in the cities. The term Golden Sunsets comes to mind readily. He knew that he had to make a decision, and soon. The sounds coming from the village was louder than ever before. This meant that the party was reaching it zenith. It would be wise for him to stop now, kill and bury her and her boyfriend, and forget about the whole incident.

However, her slumped form was going to be a problem. For a long while, Jac mulled and fought within himself. In the end, he decided to go ahead with his plan, with one slight modification. That modification meant that the food in his pack would not be sufficient for two people to survive any longer than two days.

******

The engine made a small splutter before coming fully to life. The anchor was automatically raised by a push of a button, which left a brief and slight distaste in Jac's stomach. Pulling up an anchor was something filled with lots of grunting and manly hard work. He did not expect some machine to replace to him. He should learn to be lazier.

He finally got the yacht underway out to the open sea when the skies were tinged with patches of indigo. He knew the reefs in the area so it was not difficult to avoid them. This yacht may be made out of super-strong fibreglass, but a reef or underwater rock will rip it apart like paper. He did not fancy swimming in the dark. Especially not with sharks in the water, or the dreaded Portuguese Man-o-war, a kind of jellyfish with a very painful sting.

Tawarin was actually a grouping of small islands, reefs and sand bars. The fishing here was mediocre at best, and so it was not well visited, which suited his purpose. The biggest island is Tawarin, with the centre a small mountain. Lush tropical jungle pretty covered the entire island. On the north side, surrounded by rocky reefs was a small cove. Sometimes, a fisherman may have ventured to far out and be caught in a tropical storm. The cove was a natural shelter. The small, white sandy beaches were perfect for turtles. At least three species of turtle make their homes here: the hawksbill, the green turtle, and the Olive Ridley.