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Bali Special
The first thing that hits you when you step off the plane is the heat. It’s the same effect as opening an oven door and getting that blast of hot air in your face. After long hours in the air-conditioned comfort of a 737 the sudden exposure to 30 plus degrees is massive. The next thing you become aware of as you enter the terminal building is the sound of gamelan music coming from the background speakers, followed by the scent of incense wafting through the air.
Welcome to Bali – one of the most beautiful places on Earth and one of the prime destinations for westerners looking for a cheap taste of the tropics. Joining the queue to clear customs you are hemmed in with surfers, families, business people, wedding parties and so on, all in a hurry to get out and get into it. The airport is right by the beach and you can see the surfers bobbing in the waves as you fly over on your way in to land.
We’ve been here before, so the mad hustle outside the airport terminal is water off a duck’s back. We planned ahead and arranged our own transport to the hotel in Kuta, which is only about half an hour’s drive away through the traffic chaos and pedestrian hustle. It amazes me how there are no accidents on the roads when you have scooters flying up inside you with whole families on board, cyclists and trucks competing for space and a speed on the tight streets that some might kindly call reckless. The car horn is an essential tool to let people know you are coming.
The hotel is right in the centre of things in one of the main tourist areas. It isn’t upmarket – it’s geared more for families and lower budget tourists like us. My name is Dale and I’m here with my wife Anita for a week of rest and relaxation away from our busy life in Sydney, Australia. I work as manager of a school supply company and Anita works in hospitality as an event manager. We met when our respective roles crossed over at a school festival. I was supplying a large load of consumables for the kids to play with and she was organizing the catering and AV equipment. We got talking over a Thai curry. Anita stood out in the crowd. She is part Malaysian and part New Caledonian so she is an incredible exotic beauty with coffee brown skin and dark almond shaped eyes. They were the second thing I noticed about her. The first thing was her legs, which are gracefully slender but also beautifully strong, with nicely shaped thighs and tight calves ending in petite feet and ankles. I noticed her legs in her short uniform skirt through the crowd and was magnetically pulled towards them. Yes, I am a leg man – I make no secret of it – and these were some of the finest I had ever seen.
So I made sure I spent as much time talking to her as I could during the day and eventually threw caution to the wind and asked her out. Incredibly she was single and had only been in the country for a few months on a working visa. I couldn’t believe my luck. Less than a year later we were married.
A little bit about me to complete the picture. I am a slightly taller than average with straight blondish hair and slightly paler skin than the average Australian. I enjoy a bit of sport, but now I’m in my early thirties it’s a bit more for social reasons than for competition. Anita has a thing for blonde hair, and I’ve already told you what women’s legs do for me, so it was a marriage made in heaven. And the bedroom. People thought we had disappeared for a few weeks after we got married, but we were still around – we just hardly got out of bed. I swear I lost about five kilos during those first weeks of marriage!
We’ve been together for four years now and we are still in the honeymoon phase. Our first trip to Bali was two years ago and we loved it so much we made plans to return. So here we are, checking in to our hotel amongst the noise and hustle of downtown Kuta, looking forward to a dip in the pool and a meal in one of the local eateries. Our room is tucked away near the back of the complex so it’s nice and quiet. You wouldn’t imagine there were millions of people swarming around in the streets outside. We have a view of a tall frangipani tree and the beautiful garden beds that line the walls. We collapse on the bed and let out a collective sigh, relaxing into the soft mattress under the air conditioning.
“Ah, that feels good,” Anita says to the room, stretching her feet out and kicking off her sandals. We are still dressed for the plane, so we have long trousers and thicker than required shirts. “I think I’ll have a quick shower and get changed. I forgot how hot it is here!”
You would think living in Australia would make you used to extreme heat, but it’s really only for half of the year, and right now it’s winter back home so the 10-15 degree difference in temperatures is definitely noticeable.
“I’ll follow you in a few minutes. I just want to check the wi-fi and set up the chargers and stuff.”
“Okay, babe – are you sure you don’t want to join me?”
I look escort bayan beyoğlu up into those big brown eyes and notice the cheeky crinkle developing in the corners. You mean she’s horny already? Hell, I thought the flight would destroy any sense of passion, but she really is one of a kind. Okay, she talked me into it – the chargers can wait.
Two minutes later we are crammed into the little shower box in the tiled bathroom soaping each other down with the free toiletries and enjoying the little breeze coming through the open vent above the bathroom mirror. My hands have just finished lathering Anita’s petite 10C breasts and I’m rinsing them off so I can suck on her dark chocolate coloured nipples. They are the sweetest little treat, about an inch in diameter with a plucky little peak that seems to be permanently alert. It fits perfectly into my mouth and I love driving her crazy with my swirling tongue. She cums with just breast play, which I discovered early on. It’s an easy thrill to just give her pleasure in quiet paces where we hardly even have to get undressed. Like on a golf course for instance. But that’s another story.
Oh god, that feels good. I love doing it in the shower, but I need to feel Dale’s cock soon or I’m going to explode. That plane trip took a lot longer than I remember and the in flight channel got me in the mood. Who knew a travel documentary could be such a turn on? All those tanned and ripped bodies in the lagoons. Yum! I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. There is nothing like sex in the tropical heat. I want to stretch out naked on the bed and let my man have his wicked way with me right now. His cock is such a perfect fit and he is getting nice and hard as he makes love to my tits.
“Dale, baby, let’s get out – I need to lie down so we can relax.”
He stops what he’s doing and let’s the water run over the back of his head. “Yeah, true. I want to take this to bed too.”
He’s got me tingling in all the right places, so I turn off the water and skip over to the towels, throwing him one and running off to the main room with mine only half around me. Just a quick rub down, then I stretch out on the mattress for him, ready for some deep gratification. The first time we got together I remember how hard he got – it looked like his head was going to burst it was so crimson. He is pretty close to that now, but he is teasing me too much with all that drying off, so I sit back up and pull him onto the bed with me.
“I don’t want to get the bed wet!” he protests, laughing as he tumbles down.
“It will dry. Come here and fuck me.”
“Hmmm. Yes ma’am.”
I’m already wet after his attention to my nipples so he glides in effortlessly and starts his wonderful languid strokes. I love the way he takes his time and seems to savor every thrust. The way he devours my body with his eyes as he pushes up above me on his elbows so he can enjoy the view. I wrap my legs around his waist to keep him where I need him. It doesn’t take long. Within a few minutes we are both groaning and gasping as we climax together in the early evening light.
Sunset come on fast this close to the equator. By the time we are up again and dressed it’s already night. It’s still so hot that you don’t need to wear much out. We keep it simple and go to a place nearby so we can sit on the balcony and watch the night time action going by. Everything stays open till whenever here so we can take our time. I grew up in Malaysia so it takes me back to my childhood. Dale has always liked Asian food so he doesn’t mind the spicy meals. It’s good to have a European man that isn’t afraid of some heat in the air, on the plate and in bed. There is one thing that I have to keep in mind when I’m here though. Back in Sydney I stand out as quite exotic and I need to be aware of guys hitting on me continually. That’s why it’s good to be married so you can flick your wedding ring around subtly when guys don’t take a hint. Here, I don’t stand out as much and I know Dale has a thing for Asian women as well as the food. That means his eyes tend to stick out on stalks at times. He can look, but I need to keep him on a leash in case he is tempted to have a taste of something he shouldn’t.
I forgot how amazing it is here. The place is alive at all times of day and night and you can live in a t-shirt and shorts 24/7. All the photos you see can’t prepare you for the noise and smells though. You can walk 10 metres and breathe in car fumes, frangipani, food cooking and the occasional dead animal in the gutter. Dogs here seems to have an especially rough time and even appear on the menu in the warungs. Those are local eateries that cater for 10-20 customers, usually attached to the front of the owner’s house. My advice for newbies coming here – avoid the RC!
Then there are the women. Balinese women have to be the cutest in the world. No offence to the divine creature sitting across from me, but it’s kind of a natural escort bayan ataköy fact. They are all so neatly packaged with golden skin and those perfect slender legs. Yes, it’s all about the legs again, but it’s true. All the hotels and bars have girls working there in tight short skirts that show off so much. My eyes develop a life of their own here and it’s all I can do to control them. I know Anita is aware of it and god knows I try hard to be good, but there’s no harm looking, right? It doesn’t help when we have our little secret lurking in the background adding fuel to the imagination.
I should probably have never told Dale, because it’s raised all sorts of unrealistic expectations.
When I was growing up boys were never allowed to spend much time around the girls. In fact, it was quite segregated, especially in senior school. The girls would go to separate schools and then spend time at home doing ‘women’s’ chores while the boys were introduced to the men’s life. Consequently, there was little or no time for mixing.
Since the girls were required to stay together, you were taught the arts of life by older girls or women. That meant grooming, health, massage and how to please your man. The latter two were often combined, but were only theory until you were old enough to practice massage in anticipation of how to please your man later in life. I would often see women grooming and massaging each other and it always happened in a quiet, controlled environment with any male presence kept very distant. Those were some of my happiest times, because the relaxed and honest conversation was a far cry from the mannered and structured interactions when both genders were present. You could be yourself around the other women.
It wasn’t just about happy conversations though. When I was old enough, after my eighteenth birthday, I was given a more hands on lesson by a more experienced woman. She was a distant cousin – our grandfathers were brothers or something – so it didn’t feel all that weird being naked in front of her and having her rubbing my back quite intimately. It started out as a massage instruction, but soon took on a whole new flavour. You see, I had always thought she was very pretty, and she had a confidence that made you feel very at ease around her.
Before I carry on, you need to know that I’ve only ever told Dale about this and no one else, so count yourself lucky. And you’ll also understand why Dale has become slightly obsessed with somehow making it happen again.
My cousin is about three years older than me and is quite well endowed for a Malaysian girl. Kind of chubby I guess if you want to apply a western lens to it, but I prefer to think of it as healthy. She still has a narrow waist, graceful arms and legs and delicate fingers. At the time, she was approaching the age where she would have to start thinking about marriage, but she wasn’t sure about the whole thing. It was one area where she wasn’t so confident, and she didn’t really trust men all that much, especially since it was more likely her future husband would be selected for her by the older ladies in the family. She still enjoyed spending time with the other girls too much to give it up just yet.
As I lay there listening to her concerns, I realised she was spending a lot of time on my lower back and my sides, up under my arms and across my shoulders. Occasionally she would rub along the sides off my breasts then slide down towards my hips. I recall her saying something like, “you need to work out the spots where men get the most pleasure. So that’s around the buttocks and in the small of the back.” She pressed her thumbs into the dimples above my hips to emphasise the point. “You see, just there. Does that feel nice?”
It did, and I remember giving a quiet, “Mm-hmm,” in reply. Suitably encouraged she then reached for the bottle of massage oil and poured some onto each buttock before letting her hands glide around the outside to catch the little rivers that ran down. She then gently rubbed the surface of my globes and down to my groin, then further down along the back of my thighs.
“You have a very nice body,” she said quietly. “You will make a man very happy one day, but you need to know your own body so you can tell him how to make you feel good.”
I think you can guess where this is going. I was a bit naïve at the time, so I thought I was receiving a slightly more intimate lesson, up until she reached for the oil again and poured a little at the top of my buttocks so that it ran in a stream between my cheeks and down onto my pussy.
“Oops,” she said, but I could tell it was no mistake. She slipped her fingers in between my legs and gathered up some of the oil that was running there, then started rubbing my pussy lips. I flinched, but she put her other hand on my back and said, “Relax. I’m going to show you where a man needs to give you attention. You tell me where it feels good.”
I tried to relax, but the escort bayan avcılar feeling of her fingers in my most intimate spaces was making me squirm and when she reached for my clit and started rubbing it I found myself pushing back against her hand, trying to make the contact stronger. Suitably encouraged, she next placed her middle finger into my pussy and started massaging me inside.
“How does that feel?” she breathed in my ear.
“It feels nice,” I gasped. I could feel my orgasm building as she started nibbling on my ear and licking the back of my neck. Her finger was flicking inside me, hitting me at just the right spot and it didn’t take long before I came hard on her hand, squirting out a little stream of juice, which ran down between her fingers.
I turned over and stared at her as she slowly licked her fingers, smiling at me seductively as she savoured my taste. “How was that?” she asked, her eyes locked on mine.
“That was nice,” I managed to stammer. “But why did you do that?”
“Like I said, all girls need to learn how their body works. Men are easy. You just rub their back and buttocks and then stroke and suck their manhood. They usually want to rush things, so you need to get them to slow down and pay attention to your body, otherwise they will get all the joy and you will get none. If you can train a man right at the start, then you might have a happy marriage. If not, he will just use you without a second thought.”
I listened as she told me this and watched as she undid her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders. Then she unclasped her bra and took it off revealing her large breasts. I was transfixed by her slow and seductive movements. I imagined her on her wedding night with her husband, except this was no wedding and there were no men present. This display was for my eyes only. She got up and slipped off her skirt and panties then stood before me completely naked.
“Would you like to practice on me?” she asked.
I gaped at her feminine form. Women are pretty to look at, but I had never thought of touching another woman intimately before. Cuddling was okay, and the well-mannered kiss on the cheek was nice to receive, but touching in those most intimate places? This was totally foreign. I couldn’t really say no after what she had just done to me though, so I just nodded silently.
She smiled again and picked up the bottle of oil, then she poured some over her chest and let it run down though her cleavage and over her stomach. Then she put it aside and lay over me with her glistening breasts swaying above mine, before lowering herself down and pushing our chests together, allowing her slippery skin to slide over mine. Both our nipples were hard and she made sure they slid around each other, sending surges of pleasure through my pussy and down to my toes.
We were face to face, her beautiful almond shaped eyes boring into me. I found myself reaching up and holding her waist so she didn’t slip away. Our legs entwined and our pussy mounds touched. Then our lips met, and we sank into a long, gentle kiss with our tongues licking each other’s lips and swirling together longingly. It felt so good having her body on top of me and my pussy was getting wetter and wetter. It didn’t take long for our passion to build and we were soon rolling against each other with our pussy lips kissing and our clits rubbing together, but soon that wasn’t enough and she lay me on my back before sitting up and scissoring me directly, holding on to my slick thigh as she brought both of us to orgasm.
“Anita? Are you listening?”
She was miles away. I’ve been asking if she is ready to go and she’s been off in a daydream. She was a little sheepish when she snapped out of it.
“Sorry. I think I must be tired.”
“Yeah, me too. I was wondering if you were ready to head back to the hotel?”
“Yes, I think so. We’ve got to get up for the tour tomorrow so we’d better get some rest.”
It’s not even 9:00pm yet, but with the time difference between here and Sydney it’s well past bed time for us. We wander slowly back to our room, taking in the pool area and the people sitting around the island bar in the middle. We look at each other in silent agreement.
“A swim might be nice before bed,” she says.
“You read my mind. That water looks so nice under the party lights.”
“Let’s just have a quick dip. It will help us sleep.”
It only takes a few minutes to walk back to our room and get changed. I just wear my swimming shorts, but Anita has a two piece bikini that she changes into before tying up her hair and taking off her jewelry. Wrapped in towels we head back.
I dive in first, breathing sharply with the initial shock before turning back and giving Anita the thumbs up. She takes off her towel and places it on a lounge chair, then walks over to the edge of the pool. Her stark white bikini stands out in sharp contrast against her beautiful brown skin, her hourglass figure filling the skimpy material generously. This is a show I’ve seen many times, so I glance at the guys around the bar to check out their reaction. Their expressions change from one of casual observation to one of amazement as they virtually drool at the sight of her. Yep, that’s right fellas, she’s gorgeous. And she’s all mine.
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