South Seas

The first time Jac directly rubbed her aching clitoris, Ana wanted to cum. She had never felt herself so aroused before. His gentleness worked far better than anything she had known. One of her hands gripped and un-gripped the base of his cock while the other gently cupped the heavy balls. She knew that he liked this because of the powerful jerks of his cock in her hands. When he worked on her clitoris, Ana turned to the mushroom head and slowly stroked it. When she felt it was getting to be too much, she held off, as she did not want him to cum too soon.

After a while, Jac pulled her into a deeper pool, where the waters were not so fast. He almost lost his footing on the smooth pebbles at the bottom. If he did, he would have lost the mood. Ana clung onto him like a doll, raising herself in his arms and locking her feet behind his back. The water helped to buoyed their combined weight.

Jac knew he was close. Ana knew she was the same. She nodded once and allowed him to leisurely lower her onto his waiting cock. Ana bit on his shoulder when she felt the slight pain of his entrance. As he got his full length in, she whimpered and sighed contently. And again, Jac let her get used to his length and girth. Besides, he wanted to prolong the feeling of snugness and heat.

Their lips naturally found one another. He did not know which one of them started using the tongue. Maybe, it was both at once. She tasted sweeter than yesterday. Her lips were softer than he had remembered. And this time, there was no blood in his mouth. Maybe that helped with the taste. Either way, Jac was in no position to complain, other than to try and hold on to those feelings as long as possible.

Ana felt that the waters rushing to the sea had started them off. His kisses were savoury and had immediacy about them. Initially it was a slow rocking movement, as they were trying to achieve a rhythm with nature. Their lips seemed to be locked together perpetually, only to break apart when their passions were reaching the pinnacle. Their moans and grunts seemed like a symphony.

Slow and steady for thrusts.

Turning faster and more furious.

They were both gasping for air now.

Dignity was no longer the concern. The inundations had now completely swept them both away, a torrent like the spring, from which there was no escape.

Harder, and ever deeper... And faster still...

They had abandoned everything now. He was thrusting ever faster... Deeper... She was gripping him harder... And their groans were becoming more guttural, animalistic even...

He felt the familiar feeling in his balls, and he did nothing to prevent the rise to the tip. She felt her being centring on her belly, waiting to spread out to overwhelm her.

For the briefest instant, it was as if time had stopped. He had felt his entire soul rushing deep into her. The flow of his seed could not be stopped. His spine arched painfully, but pleasurably so, as he shot his seed deep into her. It was like falling over a waterfall. The torrent of his release coupled with hers, swept him over the abyss violently. This time, she was awash so completely that she could hardly breathe. She was drowning.

This time, neither one of them yelled out, except for the whoosh of air from their lungs and the tremendous gasping of air.

For the longest while, they both felt like the calm waters after the waterfall and rapids. It was like floating, up to the surface where the sunlight called, to the surface where they could breathe normal again. No words were needed, as if it was sacrilegious to speak.

Jac felt his knees weaken. His knees hit the smooth gravel, still holding onto her tightly. He could feel his cock softening, but he loathed pulling out from her. It would be soon enough when it would plop out by itself.

Ana made sure that she had locked her arms and legs around him. She wanted him in her for as long as possible. A bit of fumbling occurred when he sought and found her lips again. This time he could taste his blood on her teeth. Jac wowed to teach her not to do that often or get her to bite on a piece of leather whenever she orgasm. It would be less painful for him, because now he was feeling the bite marks on his shoulders. He shuddered to imagine that if they ever got in a sixty-nine position...

Ana pouted a little when his cock became flaccid and plopped out. That turned into a smile when she felt a warm flush in between their entwined bodies. She wondered how much longer that he could hold his pee. She liked the way his smile light up his eyes when he realised that she knew what he had done.

Jac draped the sarong around her and taught her how to tie it like the villagers usually do. The top enhanced her cleavage. The ends just came up to below her buttocks, which made her look even sexier. Ana's summer dress was really dirty, and she did not want to wear that. They walked in silence and hand in hand back to the hut. Even if they spoke the same language it would have been still be the same. They both felt the need to be close to one another, and words would have just intruded in their own little space.

Jac would never forget that slight flicker of smile on her lips. That first smile that was for him alone. Just as his was for her.

Back at the he found out why she had the energy for their morning session. There was no more food left. She would have eaten the banana leaf if that were just as tasty and edible. Her guilty smile made him realise that he was not that hungry, although his stomach grumbled in dissent.

Jac made the motion that they should get back on the yacht. He hoped that he would find some food on board. Despite the show reluctance on her face, they had no choice. With no food, and him being the poor fisherman that he was, they would eventually starve. Jac made a great show of hunger by rubbing on his tummy.

She just smiled and pointed to herself, saying, "Ana... Ana..."

He took a wild guess that was the word for food.

"Ana... Hungry too..." He pointed to himself, made the belly gesture again and then pointed to the yacht.

Ana just nodded, and smiled again. She really must get a language translator soon.

******

The bowl of rice was plain. Marcelo only managed to finish half of it. The sun was beginning to make him sweat, and he could feel some salt drying on his clothes. He could use a long bath right about now; together with a girl washing his back would be even nicer.

In the distance he could see a grouping of islands. He assumed that they were going around to come in from the north. The amount of white frothy surf suggested to him that this was a dangerous place to be. He got ready at the .50 cal. There was no telling what kind of resistance that they would encounter, even though Miro was sure that there were only two people they would meet, and one of them was Ana, his wife.

He did marry for her money, and no small amount of respect from her father's so-called "business associates." She was the perfect respectability cover, and insurance policy against the more ambitious underlings. There were a few times when a few underlings had disappeared mysteriously. It was a slow rise in the ranks for him, even after the wedding. He bit back his impatience knowing that it would be deadly.

Up until a couple of years ago, he was satisfied with his position. Then Ramiro, his childhood friend appeared, and Marcelo's priorities changed dramatically. Of course, no evidence could be found linking them to the murders of the "business elders." The two friends were too smart and too calculating for that. In the process, they got rich, but money was only a way of keeping count in the game of survival. Progressively they got bolder, and more openly. The turning point was when Marcelo pulled the trigger on Ana's father. She had assumed that he died of a heart attack. The police and coroner encouraged that believe, a costly but worthy undertaking for Marcelo.

But when Ana got suspicious, Marcelo decided that she was becoming a burden rather than an asset. He could not move until now because some of the remaining "business associates" still had some measure of respect and authority. This sailing trip was the perfect opportunity for him to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. A drowned wife was not that unusual. A grieving husband could collect her insurance policy, although the financial gains from this trip was not rested solely on that. His yacht was carrying close to 4 tons of pure heroin.

He was definitely surprised when she agreed so readily to follow him. He assumed that she thought it would be nice to get away to the tropics after the nasty European winter. He had not counted on his good fortune that she remained sick throughout the trip. The sleeping pills which he stocked up on would be wasted it seemed.

The planning took four months, which Ramiro being gone ahead to the Orient most of the time. Meanwhile Marcelo kept himself busy preparing for the receiving and distribution of the large shipment. All the buyers had been carefully lined up, and what was left to do was to make the delivery. Ramiro would go on ahead to bring it back to Europe, while Marcelo would stick around for the inquiry into the death of his wife. It would appear that these two events would not be interlinked.

"There, do you see it?" Shouted Ramiro.

"Where? I don't see anything."

"There, on the left side of the cove. Partially hidden with branches. Damn. This guy is thorough. You couldn't tell from afar, but I know what we're looking for. Do you see it now?"

"Yes. I think so. I'm ready..."

"Okay. No shooting until I give the word..."

The trawler manoeuvred slowly and carefully around the reefs to get to the cove. There were many itchy fingers on triggers, but these men were fairly disciplined. They only killed when it was necessary. Although for Ramiro, Hassan was for pleasure, a down payment for making him waste time chasing the thief and the merchandise.

Jac saw the trawler move into the cove, which will soon block any attempt of escape in the yacht. He also saw the stern-mounted machine gun. He did not recognise the trawler or anyone on board, other than Mumaz at the wheel and pretty boy on the .50 cal. He figured it was that treacherous Mumaz who brought them into this cove. There was a bloodied pulp of a figure dangling from the main mast, but Jac could not make out the face. These guys really meant business. Ana's frightened looks told him what he needed to do. Once upon a time, Jac would have bolted and left this girl by herself. He did not why it was different this time. He only knew that he wanted to save her at all cost.

He hissed at her to make her come out of her fear. He wasted no time in making a grab for a gun. He had rifles but he figured that the Beretta .45, the same one used by the US Army, would be good enough. He quickly put on a pair of shorts and stuck a few clips into the waistband. He saw that she had done likewise with the extra pair and a t-shirt from his knapsack. He threw Ana his pair of sandals as well. He was used to running around barefoot while he could see that she was not.

"Tuan, tiga atau empat jam dah cukup. Itu tak berapa besar."

"Baik. Pergi. Marcelo, Mumaz says said it would take 3 or 4 hours. He knows this island. That should be enough for us to make the transfer in the meantime. Let's get started."

Jac used his parang to make a through the jungle. It left a trail for Mumaz to follow easily, something that Jac had planned on. Towards the peak of that limestone mountain was a series of caves. Jac had explored it once while on an expedition with Hassan. Jac had looked for pirate's buried treasure while Hassan was a busy collecting birds' nest. The saliva that the birds use in building their nests was considered an expensive delicacy.

Jac and Ana got to the caves well ahead of Mumaz and 3 others that were following. But Jac saw that they had paid a heavy price for their haste. He was tired. He could hardly lift his arms after chopping away for so long. Ana's legs and arms were covered with cuts and bruises. And he thought she was having an asthmatic attack by the way she was trying to catch her breath. Nevertheless, she did not utter a single word during the run. The caves were dim, with a few rays of sunlight seeping through cracks. The stalactites and stalagmites made the going even slower in the dimness. Jac felt Ana's hands gripping tighter as they went deeper and higher into the caves. Near the top, he made her stay while he went back to deal with the followers. He had no idea if she understood him or not, but she stayed, partially to get her breath back.

Ana did not want him to leave, but she knew he had no choice. She was too scared to protest. He was the best chance of survival that she had. She could have escaped and gone back to Marcelo. That was before she recognized Ramiro directing the action. She knew of Ramiro by reputation. Her father had warned her about him. So did some of her father's friends. He was the most bad of the bad news. It surprised her that Marcelo would be linked with Ramiro.

Ana found a rocky ledge where she could hide herself better. She had gotten her breath back, but the cuts and bruises were beginning to hurt. Her feet were sore, and she wished that she could cut all of her uncomfortably matted hair off. But she stayed silent, knowing that sounds carried far in caves.

Mumaz and his buddies had spread out to search. This was even better than Jac had hoped, as he now had the chance to take them one by one. The first kill was easy. The victim had unknowingly walked pass the darkness-shrouded Jac, only intent in keeping his gaze forward, never turning side to side. This was a costly mistake. The victim barely uttered a yell before the broken neck snuffed out his life. Jac made the time to belt on the dead man's huge Bowie knife, being not the one to pass on good stuff.

Jac, brim full of confidence, tried the same method with the second man. This time it was Jac who had presumed too much. When he stepped out of the gloom to surprise the second man, Jac got the notion that luck was indeed fickle. The man recovered from his surprise so fast that there were two opposing shots that rang out in the echoing caves. Jac felt the bullet graze his shoulder. His eyes started to water and blur, and he felt his knees giving way. He was expecting an immediate second shot to put him out of his misery.

It never came.

When Jac got clear headed enough to stand up, he uttered a quick prayer of thanks to all the gods that he knew of. Jac's shot had gone through the man's teeth and out the back of the head. Jac wanted to leap and shout about being alive, but then the growing wetness flowing down his arms brought him short. He was bleeding, and he was not so sure now whether the bullet had just grazed him or was firmly lodged in his shoulder.

He would have tried to find out but for a ricochet of rocky shrapnel raining down on him. In the caves, it was hard to tell where it came from, although Jac did let off a few rounds just to show Mumaz that he was armed and still alive. The caves became alive with sounds and the occasional ricochet. It was slow going for Jac, as he had to bend down to get where he was going.

Ana heard the sounds and wanted to yell out, both in terror and concern. She thought she had good control of herself in suppressing that urge. That was before a swarm of escaping bats flew directly into her and out of the caves. Her screams could not be drowned by the bats' flapping. The ones on the trawler probably heard her, as did Jac. The caves not only echoed sounds but also magnified them. He wanted to wait and see if she can bring down a stalactite.

Now with her position exposed, Jac had no choice but to brave his luck and charge back. What saved him from the third assailant was the small glimpse from the corner of Jac's eye. With a flying tackle, he brought the third man low. Both of them had their breaths taken out by the impact. Even the tuck and roll that he performed after that feat dazed him.

Unfortunately, the third man recovered first. With a booted heel, he brought Jac down to his knees. Another kick to Jac's head would have won him the fight. Instead, he took the precious time to search for his gun or his knife. That man's undoing was the fact that he was a guts and gore type, loving bucketfuls of blood. Jac on the other hand was a dirty street fighter. The rock in his hands was small, and it broke apart upon contact with the assailant's skull. It was enough though for Jac to draw his knife and made a red smile from ear to ear on the third man's neck.

Jac knew that he had a broken rib somewhere. The pain in his shoulder was getting worse. But every minute spent getting his pain under control mean that she had one less. He was thankful that the stalagmites helped his progress along.

Ana finally got her screaming back under control. She had never been so terrified before. She moved away once she realised that her position was no longer tenable. She spied an opening from the caves and made her way towards the strong sunlight. There were handholds and footholds. But the limestone rock was sharp. Her hands were leaving a blood trail that was easy to follow. She heaved a huge sigh of relieve when the sun hit her face. The caves were defensible but she could not stand another minute in that gloom. She too wanted to shout her relief. Regrettably, she only got a small whinge out before the butt of Mumaz's gun connected solidly and darkness overwhelmed her.

Jac knew he was a tad late when he saw the gun came down.

"MUMAZ!..."

The reply was the emptying of a full clip at Jac. Damn! Mumaz had a fully automatic. Jac did not return fire for the fear of hitting Ana. So, he just concentrated on heaving himself up to where they were without getting shot, which was easier said than done. He felt huge amounts of skin tearing off as he lost his footing half way up. It helped that there were no further shots.

But by the time he got there, they were long gone. Mumaz carried her on her shoulder as he ran from the caves. Jac consoled himself for the fact that she was still alive. There was no way to catch up with them now, not on the same way back. He was just too tired.

There was another alternative that he could consider. He paused because even when he was fully healthy without any gunshot wounds, he would still barely made it. He was contemplating the dive from the cliff down to the sea, the fastest way to catch the trawler heading out to sea. As he hurtled down he told himself that the salty seawater hitting his open wounds would probably kill him faster than the reef or rocks would.

******

"Ana... Ana..." Someone was calling her name. The voice sounded familiar, one that she was not too keen to hear. She could feel the massive throbbing of her heart in her head. She wished that the darkness would release her from the pain. Then she felt herself being drenched with in warm salty water. The splash was loud enough for her to open her eyes a bit.

She blanched when she saw Marcelo standing over her, holding an empty bucket. So it was not a dream, but her nightmare had come true nonetheless. He did not look angry or glad, just disgusted that she was still alive. With a smile, Ana reconciled herself to the fact that she was going to die by his hands. She wanted no explanation from him whatsoever. Just to be done with and quickly.

"So you think it's funny, Ana? Mind sharing that joke with me?"

"Ohhhh... My head. Got any aspirin?"

"No, but here's some Paracetemol. I was so worried that the thief might have killed you."

"Hahaha! Marcelo, you can dispense with that fake sincerity. I saw Ramiro with you. I thought you're a low-down scum, but I'd never have thought that you would hook up with that particular beast. I didn't think you'd have stoop to such depths. You've really lost it, husband." She spat out that last word with utter contempt.