Canoed Blog

Aisha Wiggins pulled her mail from the tiny box and sighed. She was disappointed with everything that came out of that damn mailbox. It was always bills and junk mail. Neither of which put her in a good mood. Something fell from the pile in her hand and she bent down to pick it up. It was an envelope, but not a normal one. It was perfectly square and black, her mailing address had been written on it in curly silver calligraphy and there was no return address. She flipped it over and stuck her finger in it to break the seal. There was a round silver stamp holding the flap closed, the initials DLJ were impressed in it.

Aisha adjusted her oversized purse and shoved the rest of the mail under her arm. She pulled a thin white paper out of the black envelope. It was an invitation.

*October 31st

11 pm-Until

You are cordially invited to the costume party of the year.

31 Denver Drive

Hillsdale NY*

She flipped it over but there was nothing else. Aisha frowned at the partially transparent paper. There was no indication as to who it was from on it either.

How fucking mysterious, she thought. She’d just moved to Hillsdale and didn’t have many friends, certainly none that would throw the costume party of the year. The only people she knew were from work. She was tempted to crumple the invitation and throw it in the garbage, but decided against it and went to the elevator.

“Hey,” she mumbled to the guy on the elevator. He was tall; around six foot three with jet black hair that reached his shoulders in soft waves, and pale blue eyes. He nodded at her. “Four, please.”

He nodded again and depressed the number four button.

“Thanks.” Aisha had seen him around a couple times. She knew he lived on the fifth floor and had never seen him with a girl or a kid so assumed he was single, or at least unmarried.

He gave another silent nod.

Aisha stared at the door in front of her and decided to stop talking the tall, dark, silent stranger. He didn’t seem very receptive to conversation anyway. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror beside her and smoothed down her black, shoulder-length hair. It was bone straight from a recent perm and flipped up at the ends. Her hazel eyes looked tired in her narrow chocolate brown face. Her nose was thin and turned up just a little at the tip. Her full lips were shiny from her watermelon lip gloss. She couldn’t help thinking how frumpy she looked in her favorite oversized beige sweater, but she didn’t much care. It was October and she wasn’t about to freeze her ass off for the sake of fashion. She wore a short black skirt that just peeked out under the bottom of the sweater along with thick black leggings that hugged her legs tightly and disappeared into her calf-length black leather Prevata boots. She silently chastised herself for being so self conscious of her looks when her elevator mate hadn’t given her as much as a glance. Why did she care what he saw when he looked at her?

She stepped off the elevator at her floor with a mumbled goodbye and fumbled for her keys in her oversized red leather Diane Von Furstenberg purse. It was practically cavernous. She finally pulled them from the bottom just as she bumped directly into Paul.

“Oof,” he grunted on impact. He had been closing his newspaper when they collided.

“Oh. Oh. I’m so sorry, Paul.”

He gave her a dazzling smile and shrugged. “No problem, neighbor.”

Aisha fought a blush. Paul was almost as tall as the Elevator Mute. His hair was blonde, but his blue eyes were darker than the other guy’s. He had the remnants of a tan still holding on from the summer. He was a camp counselor during the summer and a seventh grade teacher during the school year. He lived two doors down from Aisha and was always friendly when they ran into each other.

“Let me help you with that,” Paul said bending down. Aisha hadn’t even realized that she’d dropped all the mail she’d just gotten from her box. Had she actually been staring at him? That was more than a little embarrassing.

“Thanks,” she said when he handed her the stack of envelopes. “Uh…I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Paul said with another winning grin.

Aisha unlocked her door and tripped over the raised edge of her living room rug. She hit the floor on her knees and winced. Her purse flew to the right and her mail scattered everywhere else. She was so clumsy when she was tired. For months she’d lived in that same apartment with the same rug in front of the door, yet she still managed to trip on it once a week on average.

She left everything where it was on the floor and limped to her couch. Her right knee was throbbing. She was too tired to get ice for it, so she just dropped onto the couch.

Two hours later, around seven, she woke up to the phone ringing. She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep. It was remarkable how exhausting it was to be a secretary. She drowsily reached for the phone above her head and answered it.

“Eesh,” her twin brother Antwon said loudly. “What are you doing?”

Antwon had moved with her to Hillsdale four months before. They were both twenty-five and finished with Business degrees. They agreed that there was no going back to Jersey to stay with or near their parents. Who in their right mind would choose to move back to Hoboken? They’d escaped once. At first they both shared the apartment she currently inhabited alone, but Antwon had gotten with a rich chick that lived on The Hill. After a month of dating, she insisted he move in with her. Aisha thought it a bit premature and desperate, but Antwon wasn’t going to pass up a mansion and twenty-four hour access to pussy.

It wasn’t surprising that Antwon pulled down a steady girl so quickly. He was attractive. His skin was the same dark brown as Aisha’s. His hazel eyes were flecked with green and gold, and his masculine jaw-line did wonders for the rest of the facial features they shared. He always worked out and for some reason exuded a confidence that Aisha didn’t have.

“I’m sleeping, Twon. What do you want?” Aisha snuggled back into the couch.

“I just got an invitation to a party on Friday…some costume party.”

Aisha perked up. “Was it in a black envelope with silver writing?”

“Yeah, you got one too?”

“Yup. Who’s party is it?”

“Hell if I know,” Antwon answered quickly. “The weird thing is Grace didn’t get one.”

Aisha bit back a laugh. “So that means you’re not going.”

“What?”

“You know she’s not letting you go alone to a party. If Princess Grace isn’t going, you’re not going.”

“Whatever,” Antwon huffed. “At least she can be my date. Who do you have to take as a date? Uh…uh…uh…I’ll take NO ONE for a hundred, Alex.”

Aisha would have punched him, if he’d been in the same room. “Fuck you very much, LITTLE brother.” It annoyed Antwon that she’d been born first.

“Back at’cha. Anyway, are you going to wear that tired Catwoman costume?”

Aisha wanted to feign insult, but she’d had that black pleather atrocity since high school and she was sick of it herself. “No, I’m going to find something else.”

“You don’t have much time. Halloween is in four days.”

“I know. I know. Why don’t you ask Princess Grace to have one of her seamstresses custom make a costume for me?”

Antwon snorted in response. Grace didn’t like his sister; she’d made that clear enough. It was so strange. He thought Grace and Aisha would have gotten along. They were both beautiful black women and both cared about him. However, while Grace was fond of him, she thought his twin sister was classless and common. He tried not to think of the fact that she would probably think the same of him if they weren’t sleeping together.

“Well then, I guess I’d better start shopping. Tell Super Bitch I said hello.”

“Don’t call her that,” Antwon mumbled.

Aisha rolled her eyes. “Please, Twon. Every time she picks a fight with you, you drag your black ass over here and call her a lot worse than that.”

“True, sis.”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Eesh.”

***

The next day, Lena, her closest friend at work, offered to go with her to pick out a costume. Their bosses shared a large office area so their desks faced each other in the reception area. Lena was cute. She was about 5′3″, a couple inches shorter than Aisha, with peaches and cream skin and dark brown eyes. Her raven hair was cut short in a pixie style that she could actually pull off with her slim, oval face. Her facial features were kind of pixie-ish also. She had a cute little button nose under round soulful brown eyes, and pouty, pink lips.

“Let’s go,” Lena said when her computer finally shut down. Aisha pulled her purse from under her desk and stood to follow Lena out the glass doors. It was five; their bosses had been gone for two hours already…golf.

“Where’re we going?” Aisha asked as they waited for the elevator.

“Beds and Broomsticks.”

“That’s a strange name.” Aisha said pressing the button for the main floor after they joined the already crowded elevator.

“They sell costumes for bedtime and Halloween. Get it?” Lena smiled.

“Oh, yeah. I get it,” Aisha said shaking her head.

They walked four blocks south and turned on a side street that Aisha thought was perilously close to Southside Apartments, also known as, the ghetto. The shop was at the end of the street under a tattered, faded green awning. A high-pitched bell rang when they pushed open the door.

“How may I help you?” a woman asked from somewhere in the store. Aisha looked around, but couldn’t find the source of the voice.

“My friend is looking for a costume for Halloween,” Lena said loudly.

“Wonderful!” the woman said appearing from between two clothing racks in a cloud of dust and moth ball residue. She was the smallest adult Aisha had ever seen. She was at least two inches shorter than Lena, which would have put her at five feet tall. She had white hair pulled up in a bun that rested on top of her head, light brown skin, and watery green eyes. The dress she wore looked like a costume itself with a full skirt that grazed the floor and pearl buttons all the way up to her throat. Her head seemed to rest on the yellow lace frill around the collar. “What did you have in mind?”

“Uh…something classy,” Aisha said thinking about Princess Grace showing up with Antwon to judge her and her outfit.

“I’ve just the thing,” she said brushing past them. She walked to the front window and pulled a mannequin down that wore the most beautiful dress either of them had ever seen. It was white silk, embroidered in metallic gold threat. The gold made swirl patterns all over the dress. There was blue lace ribbon along the front of the bodice from the shoulders that met and made a V at the waist. There were alternating stripes of tiny white and gold beads that ran vertically between the blue ribbons. The three-quarter length sleeves had light blue bows and white lace hanging from them. The main skirt was gold and the overlaying one was white with the same gold swirls. The bottom of the gold skirt was pleated while the other one hung, dragging along the floor behind it.

“Oh,” Aisha said blinking rapidly. “It’s beautiful.”

The old lady smiled. “I know.”

Aisha wanted to touch it, but kept her hands clasped tight in front of her. “It seems a little excessive.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “You said the party is on The Hill. Those people up there don’t know the word excessive. It’s perfect.”

“Why don’t you try it on, dear,” the old lady said pulling open the gold ribbon at the back.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt it.”

“Come on, dear. It’s your size, I know it.” The woman pulled the dress from the mannequin and held it out to Aisha. “Go ahead, now. Straight back there.”

Aisha accepted it and cautiously walked to the back. The store was small and crowded with racks of dresses, and other costumes, but Aisha barely noticed them, or the stale smell like a sealed attic filled with moth balls. She was staring at the dress, which as crazy as it sounds, seemed to be emitting its own light into the dimness around her.

It fit. The dress fit. It was perfect. Her brown skin was illuminated by the white and gold fabric. The front was a scoop neck and the boned stomacher in the front panel made her waist tiny and pushed her 34C breasts up without the need of a corset. There was a V that ended in the middle of her back and left most of it bare. Lena tied the ribbon in the back and smiled at her friend’s reflection.

“It’s perfect,” the old woman cooed. She was also visible in the mirror, standing a few feet behind Aisha with one hand over her thin pink lips. There seemed to be a blush in her beige cheeks that hadn’t been there before. “Just perfect.”

“It really is,” Lena said smoothing out the skirt.

“It’s a wedding dress,” the old woman said quietly. “You look absolutely magnificent in it, dear.”

Aisha smiled. She did look damned good. Her neck was long and smooth and she actually had cleavage. Princess Grace would die. “I’ll take it,” Aisha said moving slowly from side to side so the skirts swayed.

“Wonderful!” The old woman said with a grin.

***

Jamison Bedeau watched her fumble into the elevator holding a massive black garment bag. A large gold B&B was printed across the front of it. She huffed and blew a breath upwards causing the black hair that had fallen out of her ponytail and across her forehead to flutter.

“Four,” she said breathlessly.

He nodded and pressed the large black four in front of him. She was beautiful even as she stood awkwardly balancing the huge garment bag, an oversized red purse, and a dark brown trench coat. She was a bit hidden under all the things she carried, but he knew she had a nice body. He remembered not so long ago, in the middle of summer, when she’d bounced onto the elevator with him one Saturday. She wore a pair of tiny cut-off jean shorts and an exposing pink halter top that tied at the back of the neck.

He thought about the way her back dipped at her waist, right above her voluptuous ass. That thing was amazing. He got hard just thinking about it. Those shorts could barely cover it because it was almost perfectly round. He glanced at her wondering what she looked like completely naked, and looked away quickly. She was completely oblivious to his dirty thoughts as she stood there adjusting the garment bag, holding it across both arms like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold.

He’d wanted to say something to her for months, but he couldn’t. Not to say he was shy or anything, it wasn’t that at all. He would have loved to ask her out to dinner, or a drink, or even her name. The only reason he knew her last name was because he’d glimpsed it on her mailbox one day.

He sighed loudly when the elevator stopped and she shuffled off. “Talk to you later,” she said quietly.

Yeah right.

***

Aisha pressed a hand to her stomach, for some reason it hurt. The sharp stinging pain stopped abruptly and she let out a sigh of relief, but felt the bone front of her Halloween costume under her palm. Why was she wearing that dress? She’d hung it up in her bedroom right before she’d gone to sleep. She looked around her. She was in a bedroom, but it wasn’t hers.

This one was easily the size of her whole apartment. There was an enormous four poster bed with crisp white sheets and a sheer white canopy tied at each post. The carpet was beige and high pile, so it was soft under her bare feet. Aisha noticed a large picture window a few feet beyond the bed and walked toward it. Maybe she could figure out where she was by what was outside.

Someone put a heavy hand on her shoulder before she reached the window. She stopped at the foot of the bed and turned to see who had stopped her.

“Where are you going, my love?”

Aisha’s mouth fell open as she stared into the pale blue eyes of…the Elevator Mute. It was a shock to her system to hear his voice. It was a smooth, even baritone that had sounded incredibly sexy, especially when he’d called her “my love”. His black hair fell forward into his light eyes as he looked down at her.

“I was just going to look out the window,” she muttered.

“There is only darkness outside that window. Let me help you get ready for bed.” The corners of his mouth turned up in a sexy smile. He took her shoulders and gently turned her back around so he could unlace her beautiful wedding dress…uh…costume. Aisha’s felt goose bumps rise on her flesh when his fingers softly grazed her naked back, then moved to her shoulders to pull the dress off completely.

To her surprise she wasn’t wearing underwear. She quickly moved to cover herself, but he didn’t let her. Before she could make her attempt at modesty he’d spun her back around and planted his kiss. Aisha closed her eyes and leaned against him, he pulled her closer by the waist causing her breasts to crush against his broad chest. He gently stroked her lips with his tongue, urging them to open for him. She obliged and met his tongue with her own. He moaned against her mouth and broke the kiss, moving his lips to her cheek so he could whisper in her ear.

“Tonight, you’re finally mine,” he whispered softly.

Aisha opened her eyes to find he was also naked. He had been wearing clothes before…hadn’t he? His body was amazing, defined pecs, washboard abs, and what looked like at least nine inches of dick.

“This is officially the best dream ever,” Aisha mumbled just before he kissed her again. He lifted her off the floor and she wrapped her legs around his narrow waist, but pulled free of his mouth. “If we’re gonna do what it looks like we’re gonna do, I’m gonna need to know your name first.”

“Jamison,” he muttered carrying Aisha easily to the giant bed.

“That’s a nice name,” Aisha muttered mostly to herself. He joined her on the bed, parting her legs with his knee so he could settle between them. She could feel his dick on the inside of her thigh. It was long and hard, but he didn’t enter her right away. He stared at her through his long black lashes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled kissing Aisha’s cheeks in turn. “I love you more than you could ever know.”

“Wow, Jamison, we should really talk like this more often.” She tucked some of his black hair behind his ear and smiled.

He returned the smile. “We have the rest of our lives, my love. Did you forget about our wedding today?”

Aisha’s smile faltered and she slowly lifted her left hand off the bed and held it up behind Jamison’s head. Looking beyond his adoring gaze, she saw a diamond the size of a large pebble surrounded by a cluster of smaller ones on two platinum bands. “Ohmigod,” she whispered. “Definitely the best dream ever.”

Jamison nuzzled her neck and she snapped out of her jewelry induced funk. She was about to have sex after all, she could admire the ring later, as long as she didn’t wake up too soon. Right now she had to concentrate on the fact that this hot stranger that she’d apparently married that day in Dreamland was pressing his cock into her.

Jamison moaned as he slid further into her warmth and she opened her legs wider to let him in. His dick had her pussy ready to cream already even though he was only halfway in. She lifted her hips to offer him unlimited access. She had to feel him all the way inside her. Jamison moaned again as he buried himself completely in her wet pussy and waited for her to adjust.

“Oh shit,” Aisha groaned against his shoulder. Jamison had rested his forehead on the bed beside her; no doubt he needed some time to adjust too.

After a minute, he began to pull himself from her and pushed back inside. Aisha squealed at the sensation. He hit her G-spot dead on. She’d cum in less than a minute at this rate! Her toes curled against his tight ass cheeks as she wrapped her arms around his back.

“Oh,” Jamison groaned. “My love…Aisha…Eesha…Eesha.” He mumbled her name quickly and the words slurred.

I made her stop and get off. She laid on her side and I slipped my dick in from the side-saddle position. I cupped her breast as I stroked her and sucked on her neck. After a few minutes I rolled on top of her and laid on her back. This was my favorite position. I worked my hand underneath her and made contact with the clit again.

“Oh, God! Please, I can’t come anymore! I can’t.”

“How many times have you come?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I stopped counting. . . .”

This was a real stroke to my ego but it didn’t make me stop. “Give me one more,” I said rolling her clit under my finger. “You’ve got one more.”

“No. . .”

“Yes!” I grabbed her by the waist and got her up on her knees in the doggy style position. I started jabbing my dick deep inside her womb, gently caressing her clit. “One more. Come on, one more.” I felt it; the shudder, the sudden flow of moisture. She sighed and pressed her face into the pillow. I started fucking her harder. “Another?”

She laughed and started shaking her head. “You don’t quit, do you?”

“Not yet.” I kept at it. I liked watching her ass jiggle. On one particular backstroke my cock fell out. Trying not to break the rhythm, I hurriedly grabbed it and tried to put it back in. I spent a moment wondering why I was having such a hard time when I realized I’d pushed the head of my dick into her anus. I paused to see if she would object but when she arched her back and opened up wider for me I went for it. My dick was still wet from her orgasm a minute ago and it slid in rather easily. I worked it around slowly, gripping her hips. “God”damn” this is good!” Rashida exclaimed, reaching down to finger her pussy. This was it for me. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I thrust forward and shuddered with my orgasm, pumping one of the biggest loads of my life into my ex-girlfriend’s rectum. After it was over I pulled out gently and fell across the bed, exhausted.

Rashida had curled into a fetal position and was repeating, “Damn, damn, damn,” in a hushed voice.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“What?”

“I was horny. I just wanted to have sex with you once for old time’s sake. But I never thought it would be this “good”. Now I’m gonna want to do it with you again.” She smiled up at me. “That wasn’t my plan.”

“Sorry. If I’d known, I’d have tried to be more lame.” I kissed her and went to the bathroom to wash up. When I came back she was standing up and staring out the window.

“What are you looking at?” I asked, coming up and putting my arms around her.

“Looking for my roommate. She should be getting home from work any minute now.”

“Oh.”

“You should go.”

“I’d like to stay,” I said kissing her neck.

“I’d like you to but I don’t want my daughter seeing any men spending the night here.” I could understand that. I started putting on my clothes, feeling vaguely used. But, hell, we’d used each other. After I was dressed, Rashida walked me to the door. She’d put her sweater and skirt back on.

I hugged her in the hallway and asked, “So, will we be seeing more of each other from now on?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

I kissed her long and hard again. She pressed her pelvis against me and I felt myself start to get hard. I took her hand and placed it against my erection. “You sure you want me to go?” She kissed me again and squeezed my dick through my sweat pants. I hiked her skirt up and dipped my fingers into her pussy. It was a moist as ever. I was just entertaining the idea of turning her around, bunching her skirt up around her waist and fucking her against the wall of the hallway when she pulled away from me smiling, opened the front door and pushed me out of it. “Goodnight,” she said.

“Yeah. Goodnight.”

“I’ll call you.” She blew me a kiss and closed the door. I sighed, smiled and walked to the elevator.

“It’s so beautiful here,” I said.

“Yeah, but once you’ve seen the sights, collected all the seashells you’d ever want, and gotten drunk a few times, livin’ here can get to be a drag,” he said.

“The curse of Paradise,” sighed JJ, reflecting on a private thought.

“Guess so. That’s why I wanna go to L.A.! Get in the movies! Are all the chicks there like the ones on “Bay Watch”?”

Both JJ and I laughed at Sam’s provincial naivete. He reminded me so much of young, bronze, dyed-blond, surfer dudes from Southern California.

We screeched to a stop on the pier, after Sam pointed out the store where he worked on the main road in Kolonia. It was just one of many tourist shops and bars on the narrow, palm-lined street.

“There’s where you pay for passage, Jay,” said Sam, pointing to a kiosk some distance away. The boat was already loading passengers. “I’ll stay with the ladies and your stuff while you buy tickets.”

JJ and I had each brought a duffel bag with photo equipment. In mine was a small videocam and a digital camera. Andi and I waited next to the gangplank with Sam as JJ walked away to buy tickets.

“You’re not married, are you,” Sam said to me under his breath.

“Wha…? Oh…no, JJ’s my father-in-law,” I said.

“Enjoying your vacation?” he asked.

“It’s been lovely.”

“That’s what I hear from the village,” he said, again in a stage whisper. “Ya know…with that great tan…and the sarong…you look “really hot”!”

I snapped a look up at this…this “kid”, and mumbled, “Why, thank you, Sam, but I’m just a mom,” as I clutched Andi’s hand more tightly.

“Riiiight,” he said, knowingly. “You’re the finest lookin’ high class tourist lady I’ve seen here. Were you a jock at one time? Where’d you get those tight pins…your legs?” he asked, now facing me.

“I…uhh…used to ice skate…professionally,” I admitted. “High class”, he’d called me. I, who’d been molested for years as a young teen by my father, now dead, and had been raised by a drug-addicted mother who used to screw her dirt-ball boyfriends in front of me, was high class? I, who’d been used as a willing whore by my Ice Capades producer and his friends whenever they wanted a piece of me, was high class? I, who’d tricked my father-in-law, JJ – like some wanton slut – into impregnating me with Andi, was high class? A high class cunt, maybe, as I recalled my repeated adulteries, orgies and swingers’ parties. I continued with what I thought was a nice catchall phrase. “I had years of training.”

“Training, huh?” he said, his light hazel eyes glinting as he looked into mine. “Well, if you need a personal guide, jus’ lemme know. I’ve got the Chief’s truck…or my bike.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in my mind,” I said, as JJ walked toward us. “Don’t anticipate needing one, though. See you at the end of the day?” I asked.

“Yup. I’ll be here. Have a nice trip,” he called, while we boarded the boat. As we pulled away from the dock, Andi was waving to Sam, he was waving back, and I was shooting his muscular, brown, six foot plus body with my videocam. He was really full of himself, yet…at the same time…was quite a yummy masculine package…for a kid, I mused.

The trip to the atoll was hilarious. Many of the passengers lived on Nukuoro and were on their way back with food and supplies. This included small, live pigs and scrawny chickens, none of which seemed to be tied down. So, with a number of ukulele-strumming musicians, all competing for tourist attention and tips, plus the wildlife and children running about, the decks were a madhouse. When we docked, everyone tried to get off at once, some young people diving off the side into the water, to meet a throng of relatives and children awaiting the boat’s return.

We claimed a great spot on the beach under a rented umbrella, and were entertained all day by the Micronesian inhabitants. Andi immediately made a new circle of friends, and was soon picking up beautiful seashells and running around. JJ and I spent our first relaxed day together, away from the villagers, since we’d arrived, and we ate, drank, swam since I’d brought my bikini, and napped.

“Any thoughts?” he asked, around mid-afternoon.

“Not really. I “have” gotten pretty good with a camera, and wanta learn more…maybe even do some photography of my own, since I’ve been mostly your porno model,” I said.

“But such a “good” model, babe! You should see the digitals. I can hardly wait to see the shots I’ve got on film. There’s a market for those, you know…in porn.”

“You’re kidding, JJ. Not of me! And you wouldn’t really want to get into the porno industry, would you? With websites and everything? What would your clients think?”

“They wouldn’t have to know, Gin. Think about it,” he added.

“I will. But what kind of a life would we have with Andi? Can you imagine our daughter explaining to her friends that we made our living by watching…photographing – recording on video! – people fucking? It’s so low class and tawdry!”

“Yeah…but loads of fun!” he said.

“You’ve got problems with intimacy, JJ,” I said, suddenly. I’d thought through what I was about to say for a long time, and it seemed an opportune moment to bring it up.

“What do you mean, hon?”

“Your multiple marriages…your constant pursuit of strange pussy…your clinical fascination with the sexual act itself, and now loving to see me fuck – especially with other people! – all add up to a guy who shuts himself down emotionally when women get too close to his heart,” I said, sounding like a shrink. “Now, the only time you get it up for me is with Viagra, or if there’s another woman with us.”

“But I love “you”,” he said, defensively.

“So far as you know you do. But, compare yourself with Anu…Leiuanu. In under two weeks he’s so much in love with me that he wants me to be his queen when the Chief dies.”

“Gin, Leiuanu’s from a primitive society, has primitive artisan’s skills, and couldn’t survive off this island. And you couldn’t survive “on” this island. You’ve got “island fever,” a perfectly-natural affliction for a beautiful young mainland girl who’s gone on a tropical vacation and gotten her pants full,” he said, insultingly, I thought.

“It’s more than that! It’s the joyous feeling of wanting to “nurture”…give and receive…of spirituality…of innocence!” I said, defending my romantic perspective.

“Yeah, well, let’s talk about it later. Wait’ll I show you yesterday’s pictures of your eyelids stuck shut with cum and spunk running out of your bottom. Then we’ll discuss innocence. Here comes Andi,” he said, figuratively clearing the adding machine at a moment of his choosing, as he’d always done. I’d obviously struck a raw nerve somewhere inside him.

The truth was, I didn’t want to leave Pohnpei…not just now. I wanted to stay at least a while longer, and vowed to bring up the subject with him again as soon as I could. There was something more – an intangible – that I wanted from JJ that I was only getting from my island experiences…from my new young island friends. It was “devotion”.

The dashing, bubbly Sam was awaiting us on the dock when we returned to Kolonia, smiling and ebullient after a day’s work, and wanting to talk our ears off as we drove back to the village. Before we left him at our quarters, JJ said, “Wait here a minute, I want to talk with the Chief,” and walked to the headman’s bungalow as we got out. The minute Andi’s feet hit the ground, she was off to the kids’ compound with her friends.

“So “hot”!” said Sam, looking me up and down and shaking his head slowly from side to side as his hot gaze ate me up. “Didja’ swim today?” he asked. I nodded my head affirmatively and he continued, “In a bikini?” I nodded again, and he said, “Mmm…mmm…mmm! I’ll bet those legs of yours ‘re all brown…an’ yer tits ‘re all…”.

“Sam, shut up!” I spat. I couldn’t believe how presumptuous this young, motor-mouthed, self-styled stud was being. Everyone else had been so nice! I grabbed my camera bag, now quite heavy since it was nearly full of exotic seashells, and started to march toward our bungalow.

JJ joined him as I stalked away, and I heard him say, “Chief says you can keep the truck tonight and pick up Ginny early in the morning. She needs to spend the day shopping and wandering around town. Bring her back tomorrow night, okay?”

“You got it, boss,” said Sam, grinning his incomparable smile, who was then off, spinning the vehicle’s wheels in the sand.

After a good night’s sleep I’d forgiven the young guy. He’s just seen too many movies, I thought, and thinks – because he looks like some island god with dyed blond hair – that he can turn on all women with his incessant suggestive talk.

*Part 3 *

When Sam arrived to pick me up and we were on our way to town, I apologized for my anger the previous evening.

“Thas’ okay,” he said. “Some ladies react that way to my rap.”

“You “can” be rather forward,” I said, reaching into my bag for my digital camera as he drove.

“Yeah, I know. A lot of it’s ‘cuz I’m a poor boy an’ a half-breed. You might not know it, but the social classes here are pretty rigid.”

“Really!?” I said, surprised.

“Lotsa’ girls at school won’t talk ta me. Like that little hottie, Luala – her nose is always up in the air – the one who wants to be an architect.”

“Hmm,” I mumbled, as I focused the camera on him, realizing that I’d gotten a similar feeling from JJ’s gorgeous new protégé of Japanese ancestry. “Gimme a big smile, Sam,” I said, ready to snap a candid shot.

He looked over at me, beaming, and stuck out his tongue. By the time I’d tripped the shutter he’d touched the end of his nose with the tip of the long, snake-like thing. It was a most impressive lingual member, I realized with growing surprise, and felt a stirring in my tummy as he did a few suggestive pokes with it – in and out – with it rolled into a “U” shape.

“You’re such a clown,” I giggled.

“Yeah…but lovable,” he said, with a smile. We drove further and he slowed down, looking for a turnoff from the narrow, two-lane road. “Gotta excuse me. Nature’s callin’ and I need to pee. I’ll only be a minute,” he said, pulling into the jungle on one of the many dirt roads that lead to “kava” fields in the interior.

He jumped out and hurried into the bush. Two minutes went by, then five, then ten. I got out and stood by the truck, rubbing some saliva on a small cut I’d gotten on my calf when shaving my legs earlier. Should I go after him? No. What if I surprised him while he was relieving himself? In a few moments he slipped out of the greenery and said, “Sorry. It took longer than I thought.”

“I was afraid you’d gotten lost,” I said with relief.

“Not me!” he exclaimed with bravado. “The jungle’s like a woman to me. I could find my way in, out an’ all over it, blindfolded!”

Here we go again, I thought, then informed him, “I’m going to the downtown cultural center, then have lunch and do some shopping. Where’ll I find you to get a ride back?”

“Drop by the TV store. I should be there on and off all day. Get a card from the shops where you buy stuff an’ we’ll pick it up later, so you won’t have to carry any packages. Jay wants me to check at the airport for the Chief’s new computer anyway.”

“What about your classes at the college?” I asked.

“Only takin’ two…both at night,” he replied, as we pulled to a stop in front of the cultural center, a block off the main street in town.

“Okay, thanks…see you sometime this afternoon,” I said, stepping out of the truck. Sam’s hazel eyes locked onto my bare, tan midriff as I turned away. I’d worn an aqua, short-sleeved cropped top with a scoop neck, leaving the upper slopes of my breasts nude, then my waist and back, down to the low-slung aqua and cream bottom wrap around my hips. My deeply tanned legs showed up to mid-thigh through the skirt’s open front. Though I was outside the village, I’d stuck to my habit of wearing no underwear. The weather had been just too hot and sticky. I looked over my shoulder at him and waved, as he shook his head slowly, shifted into gear, and burned rubber as he drove away. That boy’s got a perpetual hard-on, I thought, as I entered the museum portion of the center.

The morning was fascinating. I learned much about Pohnpeian history and culture in the museum, then saw a demonstration program of traditional dancing, singing and music put on by native people. I read about ceremonial “sakau” making, handicrafts and food preparation. I bought a few curios and books of native recipes, and by lunchtime had wiped out the battery in one digital camera. In my shoulder bag I had another, plus a videocam and a 35 mm Nikon using film, so wasn’t worried about an equipment shortage. With a growling stomach I walked a block down to the main street and found a dark, air-conditioned restaurant…the first cool air I’d felt in over a week and a half.

Once inside, I was invited by an attractive Australian couple in their forties – Rafe and Veronika – to join them at their table. They’d just arrived and kept me busy answering questions about the sites to be seen. They were especially interested in our being special guests of the Chief in the village, and treated me as a privileged person – “high class,” I mused – after discovering that fact. They were charming and fun, with Rafe being openly flirtatious and complimentary of my appearance.

We had a delicious seafood lunch, a couple of drinks, and I finally excused myself, explaining that I had shopping to do and a chauffeur to meet. I’d become a little uneasy with Rafe’s suggestive remarks, and got the feeling that he and Veronika had experimented sexually outside their marriage. The drinks had made me very relaxed and, once outside in the heat, I felt listless as I bought a few items in several shops…carvings of sharks, dolphins, other fish and canoes…all of flawless, dark mahogany. As I stroked their satiny finish, my mind wandered back to Anu, whose soft brown skin I hadn’t felt in a few days, and felt a bit of moisture between my legs other than perspiration.

I’d better sit down, I thought, and wandered down the street to the TV store where Sam worked. The Chief’s truck was parked in front, and Sam’s motorcycle was in its bed. On the back seat of the locked cab were some cartons that I assumed contained JJ’s computer components flown in from Hawaii. On the store’s glass door was a note to me, written in Sam’s childlike scrawl: GINNY. I’M NEX DORE AT LULUS.

“Lulu’s” turned out to be a smoky bar that reeked of stale beer, “sakau” and urine, and was equipped with an ancient looking jukebox that played some surprisingly contemporary tunes. As my eyes got used to the darkness, I heard Sam yell, “Ginny!” and saw him beckoning to me from where he sat at the bar. I walked to him, put down my bag, and hiked myself up to sit on the adjacent stool. The place was nearly deserted, with Sam carrying on his usual rapid-fire conversation with an aging – sixty-ish – white female bartender whose cigarette between her lips bore an ash an inch long. “Ginny, this is Lulu.” I heard whoops of male laughter and the clicking of billiard balls from an adjoining room in back.

“Hey, Ginny,” said the woman in a whiskeyed voice, which was also gravelly from years of tobacco use. “Wanna drink?”

“Probably shouldn’t. Drank too much at lunch,” I said.

“Aw, c’mon, jus’ one,” said Sam, pleading with me as he lay his hand on my bare upper thigh.

I was surprised that I didn’t cringe at his touch. At the same time I moved my leg away and he withdrew his hand. “Well…maybe…do you have any “absinthe”?” I asked Lulu, remembering when I’d had it before…a night a year or so before when JJ and I had participated in an orgy. Hey, this was “my” day. I could order anything I wanted!

She riveted me with a hard look. “You sure, darlin’? Yeah, I got a ol’ bottle aroun’ here somewhere. Makes ya kinda crazy in this heat,” she warned.

“Just one shouldn’t hurt me,” I said, blithely, as Lulu dusted off a dark bottle and poured me a generous couple of ounces.

“To the Green Fairy!” I toasted, raising my glass to them both. Lulu laughed knowingly and raised a half glass of beer, and Sam hoisted his glass of “sakau”. The liquor hit my stomach like acid and I was instantly warmed throughout my lower body.

“The boss came here for lunch, got drunk, and went home early,” said Sam. “I’m dubbin’ some CDs on the equipment now. When we finish here, we’ll go close down an’ get back on the road if you want.”

“No hurry,” I said, “I don’t have to get back ’til tonight,” as I sipped more of the deadly green, wormwood liquor.

There was a pregnant silence as Sam looked at me after I’d said that. Then he turned to Lulu. “Ginny here’s from California. I’m hopin’ she’ll invite me back so I can get inta movies!”

“Kinda movies you’d do prolly ain’t the kine Ginny’s familiar with, young-un,” said Lulu, removing the cigarette from her lips, coughing deeply, and paying me an undeserved compliment. I was amazed at what nice clothes, natural blonde hair, a tan and good grooming could do for one’s image with strangers.

“Where do you live, Sam?” I asked.

“Upstairs, over the store. One room. Boss let’s me stay there so I can watch over the place at night. Wanta see it?” he asked, trying to appear innocent.

Lulu hacked again, laughing, “Yeah…sure…Ginny wants ta see yer pig sty,” she said, shaking her head while wiping a glass. The young man was silent, seeming to be hurt by the remark.

“Well, bottom’s up,” he said, “let’s go close up.”

We drained our glasses, with me feeling woozy. I said goodbye to Lulu, and we went next door. Inside, Sam led me back through racks of tapes and CDs to a large room with dubbing equipment and several TVs on one wall facing a couple of sofas. On each TV screen was a movie being burned onto a CD. Each one was pornographic. One showed a black-wigged woman being drilled in each of her holes by three black men. Another showed a blonde sitting on a monstrous white cock while she throated a tan one. Still another showed a petite, smiling Asian astride a white guy, with another cock in her ass and cum dripping down her face, having just sucked some reclining dude to copious completion. There were other variations on these themes.

“Do you deal in any straight films?” I asked in wonder.

“Sure, but most tourists want these!” he replied. “Don’t think we ever got an order for “Mary Poppins”.”

I giggled at his joke and said, “Well, I’m gonna sit down ’til you’re finished,” and flopped down on one of the sofas, self-consciously averting my eyes from the lewd pornographic images on the TVs.

Sam stood leaning against the rack of machines. “You wanna see the rest of the equipment?” he asked.

I looked up and he was grasping what was, unmistakably, a large, half-erect tubular bulge in the front of his low-slung torso wrap. It was deathly silent in the room, save for what I swore was the sound of his hand rubbing the fabric over his clothed organ. He was looking at my legs as he stroked it up and down. The bulge grew longer and more prominent, and for a few moments I watched with curiosity. Finally, coming to my senses from my reverie, I said, “Don’t be silly, Sam,” and stood up. “I’ll wait for you out front, then we can go.” In the front of the shop I wandered through the adult section, looking at the lewd pictures advertising movie contents on their boxes, and finally exhaled quickly, looking away and walking to the front door where I awaited my young driver.

After we picked up my packages and left town, Sam broke the ice. “You don’t like me, do you,” he said, quietly. “Like you do the guys in the village.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I heard what happened…at Audra’s cave ‘n’ stuff. Is it ‘cuz I’m a half-breed, poor, an’ talk too much?” he asked. “Is it ‘cuz I’m not fit for a queen?”

“Don’t be silly, Sam. I’m a mother. I live with an older man…who’s my lover. Whatever you’ve heard from the village is probably exaggerated.”

We drove for several minutes, more slowly than is Sam’s habit, then he said, “You love Jay, huh, an’ he’s the father of Andi.”

“That’s right, Sam.” I felt a ton of weight leave my shoulders, since I’d never admitted that fact to anyone. “You see, I’m not the queenly type. That’s just superficial. Like you, I’m from a poor family, and – ethnically – I’m mixed too, half-Greek and half-mongrel American. So, it’s not “you”. You can have almost any woman on the island. It’s just that I’m trying to keep my head together, ’cause I’ve got some problems…serious ones.” I wasn’t about to elaborate on my obsession with sex, particularly since at the moment I was feeling some empathy for this young man, whose mother had abandoned him on Pohnpei when he’d turned eighteen. I reached over and touched his naked brown shoulder, tenderly. “It’s not you…really.” His shoulder felt good…hot and hard.

We drove for several more minutes and he slowed, “Sorry. Gotta make a pit stop. This time a serious one,” he said, pulling off the highway onto a dirt road as he had in the morning. He coasted to a stop, punched open the glove compartment over my knees, and took out a roll of toilet paper. “See you soon,” he said, trotting into the bush.

Five minutes passed, then ten, and I thought, maybe I should go as well, since my bladder was full from the drinks I’d had. So, I got out and found a suitable place under some broadleaf plants in a clearing to squat down and pee. Without paper, I used the hem of my skirt to dab dry the leftover drops. As I started to rise to my feet I looked up and saw Sam staring at me from a dozen feet away, with only his head and shoulders exposed above the surrounding greenery. I heard a high ring in my eardrums as they excitedly filled with blood. My face flushed in embarrassment as I was still squatted, knees spread, with him looking straight under my upraised skirt – between my legs – at my exposed pussy.

“Well, I see you’re a natural blonde,” he said, impudently.

This is ridiculous, I thought, and almost laughed out loud. I cocked my head slightly to the right, pursed my lips and gave him a soundless “hmmph” – much as an older sister would do to a spying younger brother – and stood up to straighten my skirt and fluff my hair confidently. “You just never give up, do you?” I muttered, as I strutted toward him on the way back to the truck.

“Is your pussy as sweet as it looks?” he asked, breathily.

I looked down as I passed him, past two broad leaves of some jungle plant, and stopped. I saw that the front of his loin wrap was open and he wore no underwear. My eyes locked onto his hand as it moved slowly up and down the prodigious length of his thick, brown, circumcised cock. An eternity ensued – though it was no more than a second – and a very recognizable switch clicked in my brain, as it had so many times before, telling me it was time to fuck. My pussy had moistened instantly at the sight of his member and I mumbled something like, “You’ll never know…,” then stalked back to the truck.

“What?” he called out, now from fifteen feet behind me.

Very articulately, I called loudly, “You’ll never know unless you come back to the truck!” and turned back toward him, reaching across under my arms and peeling off my top to leave myself naked from the waist up. My C-cup tits, of which I’m so proud, sprang out at him arrogantly, their nipples already dark pink and stiff, with creamy white triangles around the aureoles where my bikini had been. After he’d gotten his eyeful, I turned and strode back to the truck. I’d left my door open, so I leaned back against the seat in an alluring, one-thigh-forward position as he rushed around the vehicle to me. “Well, c’mon, big guy, show me whatcha got!” I teased, observing his chest rising and falling as he was momentarily speechless.

“You’re so beautiful,” he finally said in a hoarse whisper, “an’ I jus’ had ta letcha see this,” he gasped, continuing to stroke himself as he stepped toward me unsteadily. Though my crotch was throbbing, my mind was abundantly clear.

“I’ve already seen “that”,” I snapped, bitchily implying that his gorgeous cock was nothing beyond the ordinary. I pulled his head down to kiss him with my left arm around his neck, and with my other hand I grabbed his hot, rigid meat, sliding my fingers backward over the silky skin toward his pubis, which invited a deep groan from his youthful lungs. My fingers didn’t meet around his tool, and I suddenly moaned in return at that knowledge, as our tongues dueled for position.

Sam’s mouth quickly left mine and began exploring all of my upper body, along with his hands. His fingers traced the muscles down my back, into the top of my sarong skirt, loosening it, and his lips nipped at me from my ears, down my neck across my clavicle and shoulders, dropping with each foray to the slopes of my breasts, then to my nipples. My belly trembled and I gasped as his open hands ran up from my waist, across my tight upper tummy to my breasts, which he gently cupped as his lips captured first one nipple, then the other. “Mmmm…such fantastic tits,” he said, laving each one gently with drool. This guy is “good”, I thought to myself…”gentle”…and…he seems to know what I want. Waves of heat were now washing from my nipples down to my groin, heating my pussy…soaking it. Then he lifted me up onto the edge of the passenger seat, with my legs splayed, still suckling at my buzzing tits.

“Uunnhh…Saaaamm,” I mewled, as his hands and mouth devoured my nipples, drawing them alternately into his mouth. I leaned back, grabbing the dashboard, and felt his hands spreading wide my sarong, unwrapping it to bare my naked lower body and throbbing pussy. The wrap was gone in a flash from my elevated hips as his fingers tickled me from my knees up the inside of my thighs to my snatch. I closed my eyes, shuddered at the prolonged sensations, and leaned back to brace my upper body on my hands. His mouth soon left my nipples and I felt his hot breath caress my belly, then my pussy, then – Gawd! he bypassed it – down to my legs.

I leaned forward and grabbed him by his hair, two fists full of it, and tried to direct him toward where I wanted him. But he was determined to tease me…to torture me…to make me crazy…to want him desperately in “his” way. Oh, this guy is “very” good, I repeated to myself, as his long tongue began licking the creases on each side of my pussy…very slowly. I could feel my cunt pulsing with each heartbeat, and with every pulse I knew I was dripping more juice, because he was licking it from my perineum – my taint – and lower from around my asshole. Then he began slowly licking my outer lips, pulling the trimmed hair away from them with his fingers, and muttering, “So sweet…so sweet…I knew you’d be the sweetest.”

At that point he flicked at my clit repeatedly, causing it to nearly burst from excitement as I yelped a half-dozen times, then he slowly wormed his long tongue deeply inside my vagina. I’d lifted my calves over his muscled brown shoulders and was trying to pull his face into my gash. This prompted him to withdraw his tongue and lave my pussy with wet, languorous licks and slowly insert two fingers into my begging vagina, slowly worming them around and upward, pulling slightly under my pubic bone to touch my spongy G spot.

This is sooo gooood, I thought, as visions of the village girls’ tongue-lashings revisited me from the previous week. But it’s ten times better, ‘cuz I’m gonna cum soon and this stud hasn’t even gotten started! I’d missed so much being eaten since the week before, and was now deliriously happy that this young man was so gifted, so well equipped with such a marvelous, lengthy, oral tool of pleasure. As I mewled and groaned with delight, Sam pulled from my insides to lap mercilessly at my clit, the tip of his tongue driving me toward a blistering climax.

I don’t remember when I started to cum. It almost seemed as if it’d been always. I heard myself shrieking, yet it seemed from so far off that it didn’t sound like me. I felt my hands grasping Sam’s head, trying to draw it inside me by his ears, as I thrashed my hips about on the seat, my buttocks quivering as I pushed upward at his voracious mouth, and freezing as I trembled in that position. I thrashed again, repeatedly, and rose to hold still as the sparks continued to shoot through my insides. I finally became hoarse from the shouting, and descended from the peak of my ecstasy to a series of languid pulsations in my vagina, mewling as I came down from his extraordinary cunnilingus and fingering. I finally lay still, whimpering a weak, ineffectual, “Oooooooh.”

“You want some o’ this now, Ginny?” asked Sam lewdly, as he stroked his mammoth cock, its bulbous head pulsing like a huge, dark purple mushroom at its end. I slid off the seat to sit on the running board and grasped his turgid staff with both hands. Its eye was deeply set into the end, with the shiny flesh forming a perfect oval back to the broad corona, which flared out to a firm, thick, dark red ridge before nipping in to the stiff, brown, piston-like shaft. Clear droplets of pre-coital fluid formed repeatedly as my hands ran from his pubic hair toward my face to squeeze its tip. The prominent veins in his prick were blue-green, and as thick as writhing earthworms under the skin, criss-crossing its ample length. I’d seldom seen a more impressive cock, and looked up into his eyes as my mouth opened slowly to accommodate its size. A slight smile played at the corners of my lips as I pondered for a second how I was going to throat something that must have been ten inches in length.

Though I’d just had an orgasm, my wanton resolve had returned, and I wasn’t about to let Sam know – other than in a tantalizing way – that I’d been in the least moved. “You mean you want me to put this dirty ol’ thing in my mouth? Will that make you feel good?” I asked, teasing him in a little girl voice and flicking my tongue at the opening a few times.

“Nnnngghh…Gaawwd! Just suck it, Ginny!” groaned Sam, as his hips spasmed forward two or three times.

“Okaaaay,” I mewled, taking another few seconds to torment him. Then, I was on him like a savage, with both of my hands stroking his length in tandem, my tongue bathing the glans as my mouth drooled on its head. “You are “huuuge”!” I moaned between licks, then began taking a couple of inches of him at a time, drawing back to get my breath in excited gasps. “I’m gonna swallow all of you!” I warned, gutturally, taking more of him each time, until he reached the top of my throat.

“Oohh…yeeaahh…suuuck me!” Sam groaned, as I pushed my head forward and back several times to deaden my gag reflex as quickly as I could. “Yeeaahh…! That’s it! Take all o’ me!” he moaned, as I was able to drop one hand from his shaft, with which I grabbed his taut thigh to keep him from driving fully into my throat. “Yeeaahh! It’s…soo…goood!” he exclaimed in a high whine. Our combined movements had pushed him into my totally open gullet, which now made lewd, slobbery sounds like, “ghhllk…ghhllk…ghhllk,” while a stream of my saliva cascaded out of my mouth to drip onto my knees and dribble down my shins.

He leaned forward, reaching over me to grab my open bag, and pulled out my Nikon. The movement served to ease any remaining glottal obstruction, and my nose was suddenly in his pubic hair. My other hand then went to his thighs and we slowed our frenetic pace, allowing me to breathe deeply on each outstroke. As he stood erect again, he focused the camera down at me and snapped a few shots, then laid it on the seat. I was now relatively comfortable, my throat having adapted to his huge intruder. A couple of times on the outstroke, I teased him further, holding his thighs away from me and asking, “Ya gonna cum…in my mouth, Sam? Hmmmm? Gonna blow your…jizz in my hot mouth? Gonna…lemme swallow it…all down? Hmmmm?” I was really playing up the part of the slut now. I’d show this smartass kid a thing or two! I thought, as I reached into the bag for the videocam.

“Oooohhh…Gaawwd…Ginny…I’m fuckin’ yer face!” said Sam in ecstasy as I held the camera in front of me between his legs, focused up on my chin, on which his brown balls rested, his cock swelling my cheeks and neck with his swollen meat. “I’ve wanted ya ta…blow me since the first day. An’ now…yer doin’ it! Jeezuss, yer mouth feels…so goood!”

Sam “had” wanted to be in movies. Well, this was going to be his first screen test, I thought, cynically, as I pressed the autofocus and zoom buttons several times on the videocam to record his – our – impromptu jungle performance. But my jaw was getting tired, and the young man showed no signs of peaking or approaching an orgasm. He just continued his soft thrusting and telling me incessantly what he was going to do with what he continually referred to as my hot, white body. Finally, I pulled off, lay down the camera, and said, “Sam, my mouth’s awfully tired. Can we…?”

I was unable to finish my sentence. “Ooh, yeah, baby, sure,” he said, pulling his cock from my throat along with a stream of mucous and saliva. “I want some o’ that sweet, pink pussy. Nnngh, c’mon up here,” he said, lifting me with ease and standing me on the running board. Running one of his hands up my inner thighs, he cupped my sopping crotch with his fingers and muttered, “Jeezus, yer all ready for me,” and lifted my left leg to place my foot on the door’s inside armrest.

What did he expect? I wondered. I’d been “ready” ever since seeing his stiff cock back in the bush…what, a half hour ago? “Ya like that?” he whispered in my ear, as he stirred his spongy glans around in my dripping opening. “Huh? Like that great big dick? I’m gonna fuck ya ’til ya scream for me ta stop, ya hot little bitch! Now, c’mon, spread those tight thighs o’ yours and lemme all the way innnn!” he said, as he slid easily into me. He followed his first entry quickly – but not harshly, not in a typical stabbing motion – by moving his hips easily in little circles and gaining more depth with each smooth push to my cervix.

“Uuunghh…Gaawwd…Saaam,” I bleated joyously, as the tall brown lad began screwing me as well as anyone I could remember…including JJ.

I was doing it again. Again I was engaged in a lewd, conscious coupling, fucking a relative stranger because I was absolutely consumed by not only the mindless act of fucking…but the “idea” of admitting a new man’s flesh inside mine whenever the urge struck me and pushed me over the edge. I grasped the side of the truck door opening with one hand and, with the other, the top of the open door, to look down at Sam’s thick, veiny cock slip upward into me, deeper with each stroke. I was smiling, I know, but it was probably more like an obscene grimace, as I began dropping down to meet his near-vertical cock. It was so easy…and I was so open to this guy…loosening further inside as my cervix dilated and his marvelous glans began slipping inside my womb, causing the internal contractions that I knew would soon transport me to ecstasy. And all the while he was now leaning slightly backward, grasping the door opening’s sides, as his animalistic desire drove him deeper and deeper. “I looove fuckin’ you…you little blonde cunt. This is the jus’ about the best pussy I’ve ever had!” he crowed, which only drove me on, making me want to fuck him more…harder…for as long as we could.

But I couldn’t last long. I’d been on the verge of a climax since he’d entered me, and the continuous pushing into my womb made me think Sam would enter my stomach. I screamed wildly, clawing at his strong shoulders and whimpering gibberish as my body writhed in exquisite paroxysms. Dozens of witnessing birds in the treetops took flight as my shrieks echoed through the jungle. I ended my orgasm by mewling at him, “Ooohh…please, Sam…Sammmm…please cum in me. I want your cuuummmm.”

“Not yet, pretty lady,” he said, still stirring into me. “I’m good for hours!” he chuckled, holding me closely and lifting me off the running board, causing me to clasp my heels around his buttocks to hold on. He grabbed my discarded sarong from the seat and carried me to the rear of the pickup, lowering me to my feet as he dropped the tailgate and spread the garment on the truck bed. He then lifted me effortlessly onto it and climbed up behind me, saying, “Gonna do ya like a dawg, baby. Gotta see my big brown dick goin’ in an’ out o’ that fantastic, snappin’ pussy o’ yours!”

I groaned from fatigue, yet his dirty talk kindled another hungry pang of desire in my lower belly, and I spread my knees in anticipation of feeling his wonderful tool inside me again. “Will you get off?” I asked. “Will you…cum inside me?” I asked, hopefully, as his tool began “slishing” around between my now-protruding, hot inner lips.

“Nope,” he gasped. “Don’t wanna knock you up.”

I groaned again, disbelieving that this young man could naively assume that I wasn’t on the pill. Of course, few island girls probably were, so I decided that, later, I’d correct him. “Okay,” I said, playing along, “in my mouth, then.” I had to taste this boy’s cum…to take his final measure.

“You call it, baby,” he said. “Since I’m gonna be in movies, I can pop on demand.”

As taken aback as I was, I was impressed by Sam’s discipline and boastful style. Trying to regain the initiative, I cautioned him, “Just be sure you give me a nice big load, Sammy. Any time I want?”

“You got it, ma’am. Now lemme drill that beautiful cunt o’ yours,” he gasped, as he grasped my hips and sank his meat into me again. “Nnnnggh…yeeaah…baby. You should see your luscious ass, all tan…jus’ a little white line where your thong was…an’ yer pussy lips! Ooohh…you should see the way they’re kissin’ my big brown cock!”

We fucked like dogs for a long while…until I came…scratching at the paint on the dirty truck bed, and howling my joy into the surrounding jungle, and finally pulling from him to flop to one side, shouting, “Now, Sam, gimme it now…!” In a flash his cock was between my lips, his fist helping to pump gob after gob of thick, creamy semen into my mouth, soon to overflow it, causing me to swallow, again…then again…then again, until he was spent. As each shot of his tasty load slid down my throat I knew that I wanted more of this guy…but I’d have to think exactly how I’d engineer it.

Sam wasn’t much of a post-coital lover. No kisses, no hugging, stroking or nuzzling. He’s a kid, I thought. He needs “training”, and as I got up – naked, to get my sunscreen from my bag to rub it into the abrasions on my knees, as well as the cut that I’d re-opened on my calf from my morning shaving – I was silent…which made him nervous.

I got dressed quickly, knowing that silence was anathema to the young man. He threw on his loin wrap and, tentatively, asked, “Whaddya think?”

Knowing full well that he expected a critique – like most men, other than JJ – I responded, “Hmmm? Oh…you were fine, Sam,” I said, appearing distracted.

“Welll…whaddya mean “fine”?” showing further insecurity. “Betcha I’m better ‘n’ that ol’ man ya live with!”

That pissed me off and I shot a glare at him, leaving him standing at the back of the truck as I climbed into the cab. How dare he insult JJ! I stashed my cameras in my bag and slammed the door. In a moment he got behind the wheel and we drove back to the main road, with me fuming.