0 comments/ 37938 views/ 1 favorites Two Go Wild in Bali By: Sally C My friend Jenny is the most delightful lady. In her mid-30's, like me, she has striking good looks, dark hair and flashing eyes, a wicked grin and a ridiculous bubbly sense of humour that makes her great company. She is also totally scatty, has no idea of the meaning of the word punctuality, and is decidedly unusual. She has two small children and a figure to die for - tall, slender, supple, willowy with slight but perfect breasts. She dresses superbly, and can afford to, for the family business is extremely successful. Around where we live, in a beach area, pretty much anything goes, but Jenny is always dressed head to foot in Gucci or Armani, and has the kind of casual elegance that allows her to get away with it when others are slopping around in old T-shirts. She comes from a fairly humble background herself but has acquired no airs - I have never heard anybody bitch about Jenny, despite the million dollar beach home, the penthouse in town, or the launch (the boat cost well over a million, but Jenny made the cushions herself). She is just too normal - too nice - to bitch about. As you can imagine, Jenny and I are good friends although we don't socialise as families because with Jenny's wonderful lifestyle comes one enormous drawback - her husband Brian. I suppose Brian must have been attractive once - well, I know he was because I've seen the wedding photo's - but he is certainly not that way now. He is grossly fat, rude, unfriendly and treats poor Jenny like dirt. I stopped for a cup of tea once when he was there and was so appalled by his language and the way he talked to my friend I swore I never would be in the same room as him again. His mother seems to encourage this, and as she lives close by he gets his own way. I wouldn't like to say whether or not he actually hits poor Jenny - I've never seen any signs of it - but the verbal rubbish is quite bad enough. Although I am careful never to interfere in anyone else's marriage, I have wondered why she puts up with it. I honestly don't think it's the money - I think she really and truly stays with him for the sake of the children. At public events which Brian can't be bothered with, she is sometimes accompanied by a charming lawyer from the city, and for a while I wondered if he was her 'consolation' until I discovered he was gay. It seems that Brian despises him for this but reckons she's OK with him and it gets Brian out of any need to be even mildly socially acceptable - for example, at public functions. I can't help going on about him but he makes me so angry - and he makes my skin crawl. The thought of poor Jenny having to sleep with that every night is revolting. I don't actually think she likes sleeping with him much either. She led a pretty sheltered life before she met and married Brian, and she knows I didn't. Over a quiet bottle of wine one evening I suggested that she actually deserved a man who expressed his love for her (thereby breaking my own rule) and she said yes, it would be nice but she could never have an affair. I asked if she were afraid of being found out and she said yes, Brian would kill her, but that it was more a question of what would happen inside her. She felt that if she were to sleep with another man it would break the taboo and she didn't know what might happen. That was why her architect was safe. He was funny, kind, gentle and thoughtful but totally uninterested in her sexually. As you can imagine, I grieved for my friend. Brian travels abroad a good deal - he has an international agricultural firm - and I am certain that he is not so considerate to his wife when he is away. I know from Jenny that 'when he has to have it, he has to have it' and no-one else has any choice in the matter so I'd be amazed if he were faithful. Those spells when he is away are little holidays for Jenny - you can see her relax, and I see more of her and we enjoy a good few girly evenings once her children are in bed. It was during one of those evenings that we got around to talking about Bali. I have been there a couple of times, once while travelling and once with my husband, but Jenny hasn't. She has travelled to the States a lot and around Europe, and even done a safari in Africa (Brian likes shooting things), but he has always refused point blank to go to Asia. 'Too poor, too backward, too fucking boring' was how he put it in his typically charming fashion. He valued the market for his products in Japan but sent somebody else there to deal with 'the slant-eyes', so Jenny had never gone. We have a fair few things around our house from Thailand and Indonesia, and she was always admiring them and wanting to go. Anyway, this particular evening she was telling me that in the coming school holidays her parents up North would be taking the boys for eight days, which was the longest she's ever been without them. Their granddad had been planning all sorts of treats from taking them fishing to four wheel drive treasure hunts around the farm, and as far as I could tell from their grandmother's intentions which all seemed to revolve around the meals she would cook, they would come back at least twice as heavy! I thought she and Brian might seize the opportunity for some time together, and so had she, but apparently this had been dismissed with 'That's the most stupid fucking idea I've ever heard' and he had declared his intention of going 'home' to Eastern Europe to see what sort of a mess was being made of the family interests there. She didn't want to go, but then, as he said, he hadn't asked her too - so Jenny was left to her own devices. 'Sounds like your chance to see Asia,' I said casually. 'That's just what had occurred to me,' she said. 'Will you come too - I'd hate to be on my own.' It hadn't actually occurred to me to go too, but the time she was talking about was not busy in my own business, and I'd actually set myself the goal of taking a bit more time off every year than I had done in the past - I could feel myself reaching burn-out. I wondered if my husband could come too, but that wasn't really fair on Jenny. Perhaps he wouldn't mind? After all, he was as keen for me to take breaks as I was, but his own job only allowed him four weeks holiday a year so there were bound to be times when I was free and he wasn't. By the end of the evening, we had agreed we should go for it. As I thought, my husband was only too pleased for me to go and get some R&R after a particularly hectic few months in my business, and while he pronounced himself totally jealous of the idea of Bali we had been there recently enough for him not to mind. 'Just don't go back to Thailand without me,' was his concern. Brian was considerably more difficult, I gathered, but eventually Jenny got a 'Do what you fucking well like' after much moaning, and she was happy to take that as permission. My previous trips had been to the backpacker's area of Kuta, but this time we thought Sanur would be more in order - the luxury hotel area further out of Denpasar. This was, after all, more about R&R than serious exploration (although I promised Jenny we'd get out to the hills as well). We decided to travel business class for the eleven hour flight, but share a luxury room so we could at least pretend to be budget conscious. In truth, neither of us fancied sleeping on our own. I do it all the time when I'm travelling on business, and Jenny said it would be funny not even having the boys around. Travelling with Jenny was, as I'd expected, a scream. I'd booked a shuttle to take us to the airport and, when we arrived to pick her up, she hadn't even started packing. That took an hour, then just as we left she made us go back to check the alarm was on properly, then as we were leaving again she more or less leaped out of the door to get something else. She came back with a bottle of champagne and two heavy crystal glasses. 'I'm on holiday,' she whooped, popping the cork in the back of the minibus and distracting the driver considerably as he set out to make up 60 minutes on the 90 minute drive to the airport. We were horrendously late, of course, Jenny's bags were all overweight (even by business class standards) and they relieved her of the bottle at the check-in (but only after she'd drained the contents into our glasses. It was two very giggly women who boarded the Air New Zealand flight that afternoon. ****** Despite the great start it took me, as it always does, a couple of days to throw off the feeling that I should be at work and start to enjoy the holiday lifestyle. It really annoys me to waste a couple of days like this but that's the way I am, and I can't force myself to enjoy my holiday before I'm ready, I guess. Anyway, Jenny was very patient with me, and by the third day we were both unwound and starting to take the excess of food and sun for granted - not to mention the delights of having people waiting on us hand and foot. Homes and husbands seemed a mile away. We had both had early nights so far - the time difference didn't help, nor did the fact that we were waking up so early. But the third night we wandered off to the bar after dinner, and enjoyed a couple of cocktails out on the terrace overlooking the sea. We'd been out there for a while when a couple of guys asked if they could join us. I looked at Jenny and she didn't mind, so we said yes. Their names were Roger and Steve - they came from the UK, so I had something in common with them at least. We had a pleasant chat over our second drink and then Jenny and I decided it was bedtime so we left them to their own devices. The following day, we met them again on an outing to snorkel at one of the coral reefs. It was a glorious morning, and the long boat trip there and back was worth it - the fish were amazing, and the colours of the coral so bright. On the boat on the way back we sat with them again, and continued the previous evening's conversation. I had wondered the night before if they were gay, but it turned out Steve was married - the two had been working together in Australia, and had stopped off in Bali for a few days to break their journey home. We arranged to have dinner together later, and spent another enjoyable evening with them. It was funny, Jenny commented, how happy we were to leave our men-folk behind to come away together, yet we still enjoyed male company. The following evening after yet another long day's lazing around (I was getting the hang of this by now) there was actually some entertainment at the resort. There was usually some little thing every night (we chose the place because it wasn't a big noisy place), but this time they had a band and some local dancing. We sat with the two guys without really planning to, and learned that there had been a mess-up with their tickets. Steve was leaving in the morning, but Roger couldn't fly until the next day. They were cursing at the thought of the long flight on their own, but it couldn't be helped. Anyway, Steve was in end-of-holiday mood, and we did hit the champagne a bit - their company was apparently footing the bill, so we didn't feel in the least guilty. When the show ended, they started playing some CD compilations of 70's and 80's pop. When Roger asked me to dance I said yes straight away. Of course, Steve asked Jenny too, and we hit the floor together. It was a long time since I'd had a good dance, and I really enjoyed it totally selfishly. As I was dancing I could see Jenny and Steve on the other side of the floor. She kept looking at me every so often almost as if she were seeking re-assurance, checking that it was OK for her as long as I was doing the same thing. I thought at first that she didn't want to do anything I didn't in case I told when we got home, but then I realised it was more a sort of fear on her part. She hadn't been in this situation before in years of marriage, and she didn't know where the boundaries were dancing with a strange man. Was it OK to take his hand for rock'n'roll? Was it OK to shimmy like that, or was it too much of a come-on? Should she go and sit down for the slow number that had just come on, or was it OK to let him touch her waist while she put her hand on his shoulder? I'm not sure I was as much help to her as I should have been, because I love dancing and I was in the mood. Roger was a great dancer, not showy but with a good sense of rhythm and we soon struck up a rapport through the old favourites that had me wanting more. When the lights dimmed for the slow number I was happy to stay on the floor and let him hold me lightly but hesitantly, and we talked and laughed as we moved around the floor. Encouraged by this, I could see Jenny doing the same with Ralph, and I noticed the tension was leaving her body as she relaxed and started to enjoy dancing for its own sake. We needed a break so we took our drinks out on to the veranda to enjoy the cooler air and the moonlight twinkling on the surf. The drinks were fabulous - Balinese rice wine and coconut juice served in half a coconut with ice - very refreshing but not as innocuous as they seemed, as we knew from arrival. On top of champagne they were probably lethal. 'How are you getting on with Ralph - having fun?' I asked Jenny when we went to the ladies together. "He's good company,' she said. 'He keeps coming out with all these awful lines which are really funny. Not as good a dancer as your Roger, though.' 'I'm having a ball,' I admitted. 'It's so good to dance with a really hot partner again. I'm letting myself go tonight.' She looked at me as though she wasn't sure of my meaning, started to say something but then stopped. She finished her lipstick, turned and grinned. 'Let's roll,' she said, and we went back out. The next set included all my favourite oldies, and of course they played Mustang Sally and I always show off to that one. I'll look pathetic when I'm, 60, I know, but I can still just about get away with it. Anyway I felt really good and free, and loved it. Jenny had also loosened up considerable and the four of us were probably the wildest on the floor, but didn't care. The evening passed really fast, and I think we spent almost all of it dancing. It really was great fun, and Roger and I got to know each other's moves really well - we actually made very good partners. Steve and Jenny were having fun too, and when I caught her eye several times she threw me that grin again and I could almost see that fat slob of a husband evaporating. When the band started playing the slow numbers again Roger and I were so in tune there was no nervousness as he held me and we started to dance together more closely than before, his hand in the small of my back, one hand of mine on his shoulder. I could see Jenny and Steve together too, and though she still looked my way it wasn't with quite the same nervousness as before. As the band struck up Clapton's 'Wonderful Tonight' I said how much I loved that song and Roger responded, holding me a little tighter. I was aware of the hand at my back moving down a little, resting on the base of my spine, and of him pulling me towards him but I wasn't offended - I reckoned I'd got to know him well enough not to worry. Even with my arms around his neck and his head touching my hair we were only dancing - or at least so I thought until I felt the occasional touch of something against my belly. I must admit I smiled to myself - the age old reactions still there. And when I looked up at him he must have seen that smile because he brushed his lips against mine tenderly. Jenny saw that, all right - I saw her looking over at me wondering I think what I would do. She was dancing with Steve in the same way, closely and together but still with the respectable reserve of near strangers. I looked at her, and thought what a stunning woman she was and how much more she deserved out of life than the husband she was stuck with, and thought she should have the joy she was denied. And it was that thought, the thought of the lead I was offering, that made me kiss Roger back as much as my own awakening desire. We kissed for a while, exploring the sensations of each other's mouths, and when I opened my eyes again it was to see Jenny held tight too, responding to Steve's advances with clear enthusiasm. ****** When the band stopped I'm not sure who made the suggestion of a nightcap but I do know that it was not to the bar that we headed but back to our room. I can't remember either why the men came back to our room rather than our splitting up unless it was that Jenny was still a bit nervous and expecting me to take the lead, but if that was true it didn't seem that way. The minibar rations sat untouched on the bedside table on both sides of the screen as Roger and I rapidly progressed to the horizontal, and from the noise and the view of the entwined legs at the bottom of the other bed Jenny and Steve were moving even faster. A black bra landed on my face at one point which certainly wasn't mine - although mine was pushed down in the sort of adolescent fashion I hadn't enjoyed for years. Roger was teasing my nipples by that point, and I smiled with more than just the pleasure of his touch as Jenny's underwear was shed. Her panties obviously went in some other direction for there were no more interruptions before I heard her let out the unmistakable groan that accompanies the sensation of an aching pussy being filled. There was a shapely leg curled down the side of the bed too and two long male legs beyond and I knew that she had passed the point of no return. It wasn't long before I reached that point as well. It had been quite some time since I had known any other lover than my husband, and although I didn't feel the need as much as I imagine Jenny did, there was still a definitely pleasure in feeling the forbidden fruit of a new cock parting my inner lips and swelling me from within. I wasn't paying much attention to Jenny and Steve by then, as you might guess, but from the occasional cry I heard she was clearly happily engaged on her own behalf. Meanwhile, I had my own needs to attend to. After his earlier finesse I was a little disappointed to find that Roger was clearly going to be a wham-bam merchant. On the other hand, it was very different from the lovemaking I regularly enjoyed with my husband and if I was going to be naughty a change was interesting. I was certainly hot enough and eager enough after the evening's build-up, so when he paused to lift my legs up over his shoulders I happily accepted. Roger was not the biggest I have known but this position allowed me to take everything that was going, and he was certainly energetic. If he had the staying power to match I would be sore in the morning, I thought, as he banged his cock into me, thrusting my bottom against the base of the mattress in a very satisfactory way. And then I stopped thinking altogether as the sensations took over and I abandoned myself to fucking and being fucked like a wild animal. There is a certain delight in being taken forcefully and used as an object of lust and it was to this that I responded now. I could hear panting, gasping noises and I didn't know if it was me or Jenny... the air was being driven from my lungs with each thrust and I know I can be noisy... I was biting my bottom lip, taking sharp breaths when he withdrew then feeling his pile-driver cock returning to bury itself up to the hilt in my yielding body. My heels were pressing into his back and my knuckles were white on the bedhead behind me as - uhh - he thrust - uhh - again -uhh - and again -uhhhh. The noise must have been me now, a sort of distant interrupted wailing through the rushing in my ears. Other noises too, the bed thumping, the occasion protest from the springs, the squeak of the legs on the floor and the occasional slap and slurp of his hard flesh slamming into my hot wet body. This - uhh - might not have been - uhh - what I expected - uhh - but I was away now, my being focused on my pussy and area around from which the most delicious sensations were spreading, filling my whole body, encouraging me to open myself wide, smile as I gasped for air. There was no eye contact between my lover and me, just flesh on flesh, flesh in flesh, his flesh slamming into mine and oh god it was good. Two Go Wild in Bali Ch. 2 The next morning I awoke early and feeling surprisingly clear-headed considering. There was a body in the bed beside mine which was unfamiliar, and when after a moment the events of the previous night came back to me I did feel a stab of guilt - as much for Jenny as me. It wasn't to last. As I was lying there, thinking about how to get the guys to leave without too much embarrassment, I heard stirring from the other side of the screen. 'Roger?' I heard Jenny whisper. 'Is Sally awake too?' I was, but not yet ready to talk so I said nothing. 'No, I don't think so,' he whispered back. 'Steve's gone,' she hissed. 'I expect he needs to pack.' 'Oh yes,' Jenny said, clearly remembering. I think I was drifting in and out of sleep at this stage, then I heard again 'Roger, are you asleep again.' 'No, that was Sally - she's snoring a bit.' 'Oh,' said Jenny. Then 'I'm a bit lonely over here!' That woke me up all right. Surely Jenny wasn't so randy after last night she would... Roger clearly thought so, for I felt him disentangling himself from the sheets which were kind of wrapped around us and sliding ever so slowly out of the bed. There was the sound of bare feet on the tiled floor, then the unmistakable sound of someone sitting on a bed. My senses, as you can imagine, were now totally alert. What was Jenny going to say to this presumably nude man who had just arrived on her bed? The answer turned out to be a very simple 'hello', whispered presumably out of respect for my presumed sleep. There were some sliding noises, then Jenny's familiar giggle. 'Pleased to see me,' she said. And then there were a lot of moving noises, under cover of which I changed my own position to lie on my back so my ears were both free to listen. I couldn't see anything thanks to the screen and I'm not a voyeur usually, but I was certainly to going to listen this time - I was actually almost laughing I was so amused. This was Jenny, my 'couldn't do that' friend! It appeared she could - twice - and the second time with someone she didn't really know at all! Jenny was still giggling a little but there was no noise from Roger at all. He was obviously doing something though, for I heard an echo of last night's groan and thought well, she's not going to forget this holiday. Neither was I, I smiled, for the enjoyment of knowing Jenny was letting herself go away from her horrible husband at last was providing me with a vicarious thrill too. Well, maybe not so vicarious, I admitted, as I recalled that last night I was where Jenny presumably was now - wrapped around Roger's cock. The thought was a bit naughty but not unpleasant, and I was aware that I was already enjoying a certain amount of self-stimulation... Some appreciative "mmmm's" were now coming from the other side of the screen, and I felt quite envious now. I knew the joy of early morning sex only too well and, dammit, I knew that cock too. It wasn't fair - I couldn't even see! I opened my eyes and glared at the partition. That's when the obvious struck me. There was a long mirror over the dressing table/desk running over the foot of both our beds and if I moved just a little, surely... Given the noise now coming from next door, I didn't think my movements would be heard as I slid quietly down to the foot of the bed. It turned out to be better than I could have hoped for. Not only could I see the reflection in the mirror, but the long glass doors gave me a second, side-on view. We hadn't pulled the nets the previous night and the shutters were on the outside, so there was quite a clear reflection in the glass too. I could see them both from two angles, and realised that my assumptions were wrong - they were stretched out in a long 69, and the "mmm's" from Jenny were muffled by the fleshy rod in her mouth. I had never thought Jenny was into oral from the hints she had given, but perhaps that was just with her husband for she certainly looked enthusiastic enough now. She was teasing Roger with her tongue, sliding it up the side, over the top and down again in a way that I enjoy doing myself, and all the time Roger was growing to his full potential. It still wasn't enormous, but I remembered the eagerness with which I had welcomed it last night and I stirred against my own hand. In the mirror, all I could see was the top of Roger's head as he burrowed into Jenny's pussy, and from the occasional little jerks of her legs I imagined he was doing a good job. At least she was getting some foreplay, I smiled. Then I looked at how Roger had grown in her mouth and how good it looked as she put her lips around him and I did feel jealous, I admit. I wanted to have his tongue on my pussy and his cock in my mouth, and I wanted a repeat of last night's frenzied, furious bang... I wanted to feel his balls on my thighs and his hardness pummelling me and above all I wanted to scream and cry out again as I came and he poured hot cum into me and I came again... but it was just me and my fingers on my side of the screen and all I could do was watch... It was a particularly refined form of torture and it seemed to last for hours, that long slow licking and the little squeaks and slurps and all the little noises of people trying to have sex without anyone hearing. But I could hear and I could see and I felt I had earned my position as voyeur. Roger's head was moving more now, licking Jenny to a new level, and I noticed her own mouth had almost stopped so intent was she upon enjoying the tongue between her legs. Perhaps Roger felt this was too much one way, for he slowed then lifted his head. I thought for a moment he must see me in the mirror for I could see him, his upper lip and chin moist and shiny, and I could see Jenny's red pussy bare and open to his tongue, but he gave no sign of having noticed me as he raised himself from Jenny's face and swung round on the bed. Seen from behind like this his cock looked bigger than it had seemed last night, not that I had long to consider it. Jenny's ringed fingers appeared from between their bodies, wrapped themselves around him and pulled him straight into her with no hesitation. He grunted and she gasped and I thought, well that noise would have woken me up if I hadn't already been awake! Although all that tonguing had shown a different side to Roger from the one I had experienced, it appeared that he only knew one way to fuck and Jenny certainly wasn't going to mind that. It was weird seeing this, I thought as I looked in the mirror, like seeing myself a few hours ago. If I looked at the first reflection I could see mainly Roger's bottom, but as Jenny spread her legs wide and raised her hips from my low viewpoint I could actually see his cock penetrating her swollen lips. It looked... well, I'd never actually watched this before, and I'd never been a fan of blue movies, so I didn't quite know what to expect. It looked very basic, animalistic, and of course I recalled that was how it had felt too. As he started to pump in and out of her I was surprised by the tautness of the muscles of his bottom, and by how hard he was thrusting. I had felt it before but seeing it... my fingers were moving harshly on my pussy now, crushing my clit almost savagely and my teeth I knew were clenched. In the other reflection I could see a more side-on view. Roger was on his elbows and from here too the sheer physicality of the act was evident. Jenny's small breasts lurched with each thrust. As I watched she drew her legs up and twisted her head and I could see the look on her face. How to describe that look? Her mouth was stretched wide, her teeth white, a grimace that would have been agony had it not been for the little noises she was making and the way her hands were moving on Roger's back. She was clawing him as if trying to drag him deeper inside her with every thrust. Her head was bouncing and, as I watched, she started moving it wildly from side to side, her hair flying about her. Then I watched as Roger put his hands on her arms and held her down and that was when she had no choice left but to take the fucking he was giving her. I looked back in the mirror.. I couldn't believe the sheer force he was using. He was pounding into her, hammering her poor pussy so hard, and I could see his cock quite clearly each time he pulled back, an angry dark reddy-purple, more like a weapon than an instrument of love. But who was I kidding? This wasn't love, this was a simple old-fashioned caveman fuck, and Jenny was submitting like an old fashioned cavegirl. No, she wasn't submitting, she was loving it. Even as I watched I could see her tensing up, her legs jerking and then going rigid, her mouth opening in a long noiseless scream, the scream of release, of lust, of happy orgasm. But Roger wasn't paying any attention to that, selfish pig, for he just went on fucking and fucking and fucking, long beyond the point where it has passed from pleasure to pain for the woman. Jenny was making a noise now, couldn't help herself, almost crying, but Roger still slammed into her body faster and faster, harder and harder, till I thought either Jenny or the bed must break. Her head was forced against the headboard and she looked so uncomfortable but between her legs that cock was pistoning in and out no thought but itself, no aim but to cum. And cum it did. Like me Jenny had no choice, pinned to the bed as she was, and when Roger tensed and banged into her and held it there, his back rigid, Jenny bowed up under his pressure, he was able to shoot right into her womb. Remembering the night before I must admit I was a little frightened and yet at the same time the thought of that creamy gusher brought on my own climax. No-one would hear me whimpering, I thought, under Roger's grunts and gasps as he thrust and pumped, his hands tensed white on Jenny's arms. I looked at Jenny's face. Amazingly, she had lost the fear now and instead she was, incredibly, smiling, a broad, wicked grin as she felt Roger emptying himself into her. For a moment her eyes opened and she appeared to be looking right at me in the mirror. But I doubt if she was focusing and her eyes soon closed again and she sighed loudly and, to my ears, very happily. Just as well she couldn't focus, I thought, thinking of me lying there across the bed, legs apart, fingers still stroking myself and bringing me down gently. She wouldn't want me to see her, crushed and fucked and satiated on the next door bed - would she? But Roger was moving now, and I felt I had to move too before I was seen for real. I heard a "uh- uhhh" from him, and the romantic words "Christ, that was a good fuck." As I pulled the covers over myself and feigned sleep again I wondered how he would compare us, the two married ladies he had screwed in the same room just hours apart. Would he get home and boast about it to his mates? Would anybody believe him? I grinned. Were Jenny and I to be the subject of bar room fantasy? Well, I had been there before, and it would be a long way away so it didn't matter. What did matter - to me - was that my friend Jenny had broken away from her awful husband for a few hours and enjoyed the attentions of not one but two lovers of her own. I felt a bit responsible for that - and just a bit proud, too. The wicked smile on Jenny's face when Roger was coming was evidence enough that she had experienced something to dream about when she got home. And she had had Ralph, too. She wouldn't be dancing so easily tonight, I thought naughtily, not with all the pummelling her pussy had received in the last eight hours. Nor, I realised, would I, for now my own tingling had gone I realised that Roger had probably left both his conquests sore and bruised. He was right, though - Christ, it had been a good fuck! Two Go Wild in Bali Ch. 3 Jenny and I didn't really discuss the night with the guys (or the morning after) apart from a few subtle comments and some decidedly naughty grins. One couldn't exactly say we had experienced holiday 'romances', but our escapades were away from home and not part of real life somehow, so we didn't even mention it to each other. Jenny didn't know I knew about her and Roger, and I certainly wasn't going to mention it in case she was embarrassed or felt that somehow I had been more restrained. Knowing Jenny had had so much pleasure was reward enough for me, so the subject was dropped. A day later Jenny had gone to do some shopping for her children while I caught up on my tan. While I hadn't actually seen anything forbidding topless sunbathing in the resort, I also hadn't seen anyone doing it. Given the youth and perfection of some of the women there, I might have been loathe to face the competition anyway. So when it came to working on my all-over tan, I tended to stay within the privacy afforded by our little veranda area. With screens to left and right and a slight rise between us and the beach, it was quite private and I reckoned that anyone who really wanted to see my body was welcome anyway. So I lay back on the lounger, slipped off my top and worked in the oil. After the events of two nights before, I was slightly amused to find that my body responded to my own touch so easily as I circled my nipples with my slippery fingers. As I watched them engorge, I mused that although I had enjoyed the forbidden moment and had certainly climaxed satisfactorily, I still felt somehow unsatisfied as if the game were not over. Perhaps Jenny's 'stealing' Roger had something to do with it, although I had not wanted him again and had thoroughly enjoyed hearing her pleasure. Still, the memory of the illicit sex - and, I must admit, of the 'awakening' of Jenny - was pleasurable and I felt suitably wicked as I reclined. Wicked enough, in fact, to decide to enjoy the warm balmy air on all of my body, so I slipped off my bikini bottoms too and lay back enjoying the pleasure of the warm sun reaching into all of me. Looking up into the clear blue sky with the gently moving coconut palms was delightful, and instead of turning to my book I just put on my shades and lost myself luxuriating in the sun for a while. This was the life. In fact, I smiled to myself, the resort went to a great deal of trouble to create such a perfect worry-free environment for us. A couple of days ago, I had even seen one of the local guys climbing the coconut palms to an incredible height, lopping off the older leaves and cutting off the not yet quite ripe coconuts so that the guests should not be exposed to the dangers of dropping fruit. The palms grew to quite a height, and I had been most impressed by the way the guy had just walked straight up it, aided by some sort of clawed attachment to his boots which gave him incredible grip. At the top he had clipped a belt round the tree and used both hands to hold and free the fruit, throwing it down to drop harmlessly on the grass below. Sometimes it broke as it fell, the creamy white milk splashing from it as it opened. The gardener had cut some of the broken ones, serving the fresh white flesh to Jenny and me on the tip of his machete. It had been cool and rich and sweet and slippery, so unlike the dry stuff I had always had before. The memory made me smile... this was what a tropical holiday should be. Daydreaming, the leaves swaying lazily above creating a sense of movement, unsolidity from earth to sky I was floating in the warm air. The distant surf and rattle of the palm leaves combined to create a music all of its own, a music which started to develop a slow rhythm, even the occasional deep chunking sound backing it. In my trance-like state, it was only when I heard a heavy thud that I realised that the coconut man was back. It startled me, even though it fell well away from me, and despite my sunglasses I had to squint awkwardly up through the leaves to see his silhouette against the sky. The chunking noise must have been his boots on the trunk, I realise. I work out he is on the other side of the trunk facing this way, and I give him a wave before I remember that it probably isn't a good idea to draw attention to myself. He's so busy I'm not sure if he sees anyway, and presently there is another thud as another of the green fruit drops and bursts, its contents spilling on the grass around. Some dying leaves follow and they clear a space around the gardener's head. It is still, then he waves his free hand and I feel I have to wave back but what the hell. The next coconut drops decidedly closer, deliberately I bet and I smile at the thought that he is trying to frighten me. I notice that this one has spattered its juice in thick drops, even reaching my leg. I draw it up on my finger and taste its creamy warmth. There is another rustle, more leaves fall and I can see his silhouette chopping at the leaves, more palm fronds parting around him. A couple more heavy thuds, then I hear the chunk chunk of his climbing gear on the trunk again. I drift back into my reverie watching the trees and the sky, only slightly aware of the sounds as the leaves are collected beyond the shrubs and the rise that have restored my privacy. There is the sound of his cheery greeting to another guest, the distinctive crack as he opens another coconut and I hear their murmurs of delight at the fresh taste. More rustling, then the noises move away, and I relax a little - though I must admit the inadvertent exposing of myself gave me a little thrill. Then the rustle is back - a little different this time, it seems. I open one eye, and am slightly shocked to find my coconut man standing there on my side of the shrubs with another slab of pure white coconut held on his outstretched machete. He looks almost puzzled for a moment, but then he is smiling with his eyes everywhere except on my face. It would be silly to say he is undressing me with his eyes as there is nothing left for his imagination to remove, but I feel myself bathed in his long slow look. About all I can do for modesty is close my legs tightly, which I do. 'You like?' he says, offering me the coconut on the big knife, and as he jerks it forward a little the milk drops from it on to my belly. We both watch as it trickles down over the bikini line and halts in the tangle of dark hair, to form a little pool under the curls. The effect is incredibly erotic. I look up at him and again he thrusts the machete towards me. 'You like?' I take a piece of the offered coconut and slide it into my mouth, and he smiles... It is as if I have accepted a deeper offer. Perhaps in a way I have, for he can see I am not too alarmed and in fact I feel a familiar stirring within. 'I like.' He smiles and tips the big knife slightly so more milk dribbles from it, and moves his arm so that the drops move up my body. Again our eyes follow - that was clearly no accident. 'Good for sun,' he says. Now the decision rests with me - turn him away, go on teasing, or what? My body is reminding me the game isn't over, and while I haven't done anything like this for years the combination of fresh air and my nakedness in front of a stranger are urging me onwards. Without thinking I have repeated my earlier action, taking some milk on my finger and licking it off, and I have no doubt of the message I am sending. The top half of his body is bare, dark, glistening slightly, a strong torso but wiry like his arms. He has a heavy leather belt with hooks which attach to the rope round the tree and frayed denim shorts which have seen better days. Beneath the belt is, I am flattered to note, a quite sizeable bulge from which I move my eyes hastily but not fast enough. When I catch his eye again he smiles even more broadly. The inevitable question again: 'You like?'. I know this isn't all the English he knows for Jenny and I chatted to him just the other day, but now it seems all he is capable of saying. Perhaps it is all he needs to say, for all I would have to do now is say 'I like' and I could be enjoying a very sudden and naughty experience. 'And a delicious one,' says my body from nowhere, and just as I'm about to say no thanks he moves, a sort of sinuous rippling motion that seems to start with his hands, run up to his neck then down through his body to the denim secret. I feel my body melt my inhibitions and everything else that should hold me back. I hold his gaze and he offers the coconut again, no words, just an offer. This time I sit up, feeling my breasts moving freely, drawing his eyes. I reach out for the machete and, steadying the tip with my right hand, move my head so I can take some of the soft flesh with my lips. I push more into my mouth with my finger. I eat it slowly, savouring its slipperiness. If I look along the knife I can see his belt, see his bulge, see him moving almost unconsciously with a an appealing rhythm. 'I like,' I say. The decision made, I wonder how to move from here outside to the room. He is hot and presumably thirsty after his work. 'Would you like a drink?' I ask. He grins, and then to my surprise, horror and delight, drops to his knees at the end of the lounger and slides his tongue rapidly up my leg and buries his head in my bush. Almost instinctively I bring my knees up around his body, opening my pussy to his mouth and feeling him immediately covering my lips. The speed with which we have moved from flirtation to intimate sex in the open startles me but the thrill I feel makes me open to enjoying it to the full. His wiry hair is suddenly all I can see of him but I can feel him, oh god can I feel him. His face feels rough against the smooth skin of my inner thighs but his lips and tongue are lapping insistently at my entrance, and I am sure he can tell from the way I am moving back against him that I am enjoying the experience. I reach up behind my head and hold the back of the lounger with both hands to steady myself as I raise my hips slightly to encourage his assault. His hands, dark and rough, slide over my bare skin and down beneath to cup my bottom and feed my pussy to his mouth - the most divine sensation. Having succumbed to temptation I am now ready to enjoy it to the full, and I writhe and squirm as his tongue dives around, over, into my most sensitive areas. I throw my head back, a smile on my face, the shape of the coconut leaves over my head reminding me of the origin of this most unexpected pleasure. To the sound of the leaves now is added my harsh breathing as I attempt to control the noise I am making. This is hard because, frankly, my pussy is now receiving the attention it has been craving for days and I want to let rip and enjoy it, but the thought of others just over the ridge is a little limiting - if exciting. Meanwhile the coconut man is just over my ridge... his tongue is delving between my pussy lips and pushing into me like a little cock, while his lips and teeth are playing on my clitoris and I find myself jerking uncontrollably each time he flicks over it. Now he sucks my whole sexual centre into his mouth, engorging my little man in the boat still further, and the pleasure as his tongue starts to lap steadily at my clit is almost too much. I am whining gently, I realise, giving gentle voice to the pleasure I feel. He stops for a moment and looks up over my stomach, and I see his lips and chin glistening with my juices. I smile and, reaching down, press his head back down so his mouth makes contact once more. I hold him there and wriggle my hips against him, snuggling him into me to continue his delightful work. This dedicated tonguing out in the open air is just what I need and want. The naughtiness of the situation is enhanced by this man who is taking his time, and he is driving me slowly inexorably upwards. I find I am biting my lower lip but it doesn't hold back the loud groan I let out as he touches me in a particularly sensitive spot. I am aware that the pleasure I feel and want is taking me over, and I am prepared to abandon myself to it totally but I want to be loud as I like and out here... He hits that spot again and this time I gasp and groan together. If this goes on someone is bound to investigate and I do so want it to go on. I place my hand on his head and pull him gently up by his hair. There is a string of saliva joining his chin to my body, and I smile as I say 'Inside'. He stands up slowly and takes a quick look round while I sit up on the lounger. The bulge in his denims is right in front of my eyes and I run an appreciative hand over it before I stand up and walk into the room. I quickly put the security lock on the door then close the patio door too. His shorts are off before I turn around and I am greeted by the sight of his cock standing proud against the faded T shirt. We scramble on the bed together and now I am treated to his hot mouth on my breasts and his hot fingers between my legs. His cock is pressing on my thigh, long and hard and promising and my hands are on his arms and his back and his neck, pulling him towards me down on to me, savouring the hard body half above me. I would like to taste him here, now, but that would be crazy... I lick and suck at his body instead, taking the unfamiliar exotic blend of skin and taste and sweat as my reward, fluttering my tongue over his torso. I am feeling him with one hand, sizing up his cock, enjoying the sensation of him growing in my palm. I don't want to stop so I grope around above my head in the bedside drawer... I'm sure I put those condoms in there. There they are... hate them but this is a necessity... the box is open to my surprise maybe Jenny was more careful than me... well done, makes it easier for me one-handed now anyway... Pull out foil-wrapped ring and open it above the coiled hair of the man sucking on my nipples.. push him away so he can see... He sits up, penis jutting towards me, making it so easy to wrap him in the rubber, smoothing it down.... he is quite impressive and my pussy is fluttering already.... I have hardly spoken to this man, never kissed him but know the taste of his body and now oh glory he knows me as he moves athletically, jumps almost, to arms either side of me, legs between mine, hips so close, cock closer, outside, outside, moving closer, then inside and "Uurrrgh,' I groan with pleasure as he slides smoothly into the wet embrace of my body. He is at home within me, moving steadily into an easy soothing rhythm to which my body responds. It is still bright in the room and I look up once again at the head above me almost silhouetted but this time closer, much closer, and I am again spread beneath him and this time around him, his knife replaced by a deeper better weapon which is sooooo satisfying. It has all happened so fast, so sudden the move from gentle relaxation to gentle tongue to gentle penetration and now, as I accept the gentle fucking of the coconut man I really look at him for the first time today, this stranger my lover, and I see he is smiling at me, one of those smiles from the eyes, and I know it is all right. I smile back, a smile from deep within, and I run my hands up his arms and stroke his neck and his hair as he strokes my insides. We look at each other in the quiet room, the sun-dark muscular man and the slim pale woman, connected by our mutual enjoyment. It is very quiet in the room, the noise of the surf muted by the closed glass but just audible; the occasional gentle creak from the bed; the slithering of sheets as, unwanted, they slide to the floor; the of flesh sliding on flesh and into flesh, the slightly harsh breathing of two people playing the oldest game... It is so complete, this moment... pleasure pure and simple. Perhaps pure is a funny word to use for this casual adulterous sex but in a way it is pure, not tied up with reactions and conversations about mortgages or laundry, no previous experiences to get in the way, no knowledge of each other's bodies to create expectations... I appreciate my husband and how well he knows my body, but the sensation of being touched in a new way, of a man who touches me here instead of there, like this instead of like that, moves this way not that way, all of these things add up to a deep excitement and eroticism which exceeds even the physical pleasure involved in this slow firm fucking. And the physical pleasure is immense. Despite the condom and my own excited state I feel the delightful shape of the dark cock within me, its bulging head stretching my pussy walls, plundering the soft warm flesh within. This is not the frenzied slightly drunken coupling I had with Roger: I am fully alive, fully present to enjoy every moment of glorious penetration. And I tilt my pelvis the better to accommodate my new friend. We have fallen into a very satisfying routine now. He pulls out nearly all the way, which almost creates a loss within me and I move towards him a little, then a moment's pause, then smoothly he fills me again, down, down on my body until his whole body is pushing against me inside me and I can feel the tip at the top of my vagina, an electric trail where it has slid along and up and touched my core. Because he is still on unbent arms I can reach down without difficulty to touch myself. I spread myself open to him, then keep my hand there, using my finger to stir my clit as he continues the slow fucking... mmm I love this combination. And don't think I am only receiving. His nipples are surprisingly sensitive for a man, I find, and I stroke and tease them with my other hand, occasionally raising my head to lick and suck and bite them a little... I hear him gasping when I do that, as I gasp when sometimes his ringed head rubs on that special spot as he enters me again. After this has happened, what, four or five times in as many minutes I feel the jolt inside that releases the butterflies of pleasure. I know that I will climax at the end of this dedicated intense loving but I am in no hurry... I want the feeling to last, the delight within me to go on building, and I am quite prepared to hold back as long as I can. We change positions now. At first when he withdraws completely I suffer a moment of panic but then he lies beside me and bends my leg up over his side so I am open and he can see as well as me... see the long dark shape in its pale coating, glistening slightly with my secretions, nuzzle its way along my swollen labia, touch the nub of my clitoris, retreat and then, guided by his strong fingers, find its way back into the embrace of my pussy. We both seem transfixed by the sight, like the coconut milk earlier, unable to look away as his cock slides into me, opening me and filling me with its welcome size. I find it enormously erotic to see myself being penetrated in this way, and when he starts to use a finger, as I fingered myself before, I shudder uncontrollably. I toss the hair back off my face the better to watch... even though I can see how his fingers are moving the sensation is still better, more unexpected than doing it myself, and the sight of his fingers swimming in the wetness that I have created - we have created - against the background of that slowly thrusting cock gives me the most enormous thrill. There is a pulse deep within me now, a gentle throbbing centred on the sensations coming from my pussy but which I feel all over my body. I respond now, moving my body on my lover as he moves in me, matching the throbbing with a rhythm of my own making. The coconut man senses the change within me. He raises his head from where he is tonguing my breast and looks into my eyes, observes me biting my lower lip. I think he can tell I am approaching the last lap and he smiles another of those broad smiles deep from his eyes to mine. I move back beneath him now, still the best position for me, and take him deep within as he starts a slow deliberate thrusting which draws a little moan from me. He is still smiling and I gasp as I smile back, he is touching me everywhere inside and it just feels ummmm... I throw my head back and start to move against his circling plunging cock, no need for fingers now for as he goes deep he crushes his body against me, his hair touching then squeezing against my clit in the way I love so well. I am taking another thrusting, but this is a whole different experience, joy more than lust, smiling and gasping at the same time, taking my penetration and pounding against the bed completely, feeling the pounding within of impending orgasm rising, rising... Two Go Wild in Bali Ch. 3 I know I am sighing, no, crying out now, the pleasure too much to be silent as I feel his body on mine, the hard flesh rising and falling within, rubbing me internally and sliding over my skin and lips and clit and ... ahh, a moment almost too much there, that classic moment where pleasure meets pain but I can't say no I want this too much and it passes and again there is only approaching ecstasy. I abandon myself to my fate now, give up all pretence of anything except the joy of being well-fucked by a master lover, and here it comes, I am fluttering, quivering on the end of his cock, shaking and shouting wordlessly as a great wave takes me, crashes over me, drowns me in pleasure, a massive heat bursting from within, spreading out and enveloping my whole body, my pussy my womb my belly my heart my breasts taking over my consciousness in a red storm. Again and again it comes as the coconut man keeps up his intense pleasuring and I keep on coming, oh god I just keep on coming and coming and coming, peak after peak of orgasm, not been like this for a long time and it's so much, too much, and I'm sobbing now between gasps for breath and so hot, so hot, and he is slowing down for me letting me take my climax, not taking me beyond here where I want to be oh glory he's good. And I lie there feeling his movement still but feeling more the ripples of pleasure following the waves, the amazing tingling of every nerve with the joy of orgasm. I have not come that way for a long time and I am sure my face betrays my surprise and delight for he is smiling down at me even as he continues moving, almost massaging me within, stroking me and distributing that massive release of tension throughout my whole body. I can feel my fingers pulsing with it, and my toes... my toes I realise are on his back, somewhere I have wrapped my legs around him opening myself fully for him letting him take me totally and yes, I know I have been taken completely and beautifully. I unclamp myself and let all the air left in my body go with one massive groan. I look at him and smile, a smile from the heart, met with a smile. 'I like,' I say, and laugh. I wonder if he thinks that I will stop him now that I have had my climax, but I have no intention of being so cruel - anyway, I love a man's orgasm, and this particular man has been something special. I would love to take him in my mouth now, to let him cum that way, for me as much as him I admit, to taste and feel that creamy warm cum, but that would be madness. In my slightly less crazed state I realise that even with the condom to have him cum inside me might not be the wisest thing. I know from the way his speed has picked up again that he is not too far away and while I am still enjoying it and know his climax would be beautiful within, I must do something different. I move my hands, stroking him, and whisper "This way' to him to let him know I am not going to stop. I manoeuvre myself so he turns and slides out of me, leaving me empty and longing but it must be like this. Then I turn on his dark body and run my face my mouth and nose over his skin as I move down his body. His cock is lying hard on his belly, so stiff and big and angry looking as I take it in my hand. It looks unnatural in its rubber coating, wet though it is, and I want to feel his skin against me so I carefully slide the rubber ring up and strip him of it. Now he is raw before my eyes, bare and delicious and irresistible. I take him and roll him all over my face... I have been wanting to do this for a long time and now this wonderful cock is there I can make the most of it, the sensation of his fat heavy hard maleness on my face and chin and skin and neck. I can hear his gasp as I run the head up my neck, along my jaw... the temptation to slide just another couple of inches to the corner of my mouth, to part my lips and do what I really want to is enormous, but I mustn't, I mustn't. I settle for running my lips along the length of him as I press him to my face, feeling his heat and the dampness of my orgasm on him to my immense joy, then running him through my hair and all over me again. Now his breathing is ragged and I know I have him close, and I know he deserves his release, but how? I squeeze his balls for a moment to slow him down, then I take his hands and encourage him to sit. 'Stand up, I tell him, and he does as I ask. Now I can kneel on the bed and have his cock just where I want it. I haven't often done this because my breasts aren't so big, but now I cup them in my hands and close them around the hard dark cock before me. My breasts are slippery from the oil and my perspiration, and his cock is also glistening, and I surprise myself how hard I have to squeeze my breasts to provide the pressure I know he needs. The shiny purple end is peeking out of the top of my breast tunnel now, and I can see he is oozing already. I smile at him again as I start to move a little, and he quickly takes up the motion. I feel him fucking my breasts, can watch his cock breaking through at the top then disappearing again down into my flesh. It isn't the greatest for me but this is for him, a well-earned reward, and I start to make encouraging noises. He is actually pushing quite hard now, I have to brace myself to hold myself against him and around him and take his thrusts without falling backward. And he is grunting and I am moaning and the hard head seems to be glowing and the little slit gaping a bit more each time it appears between my enfolding flesh. And now there is no doubt that the end is near. He is making noise all the time and his legs are moving, his head thrown back and I clutch my breasts even tighter around him, feeling my nipples rubbed deliciously by his cock as it pulsates against them. Here we go now, I can feel the tension in him, through me. I watch our flesh together then his cock bursts out of its surroundings and a great creamy gout spurts towards me. I couldn't avoid it if I wanted to but I don't, and I feel its heat upon my neck and chin with joy. There's more to come too, I keep the pressure up and let him thrust again, and this time he splashes on the side of my face, then the other side. I want more.. I use my hand now, encircling him with my fingers and guiding him as I pump. My face must be sprinkled as well, and although the strength is diminishing there is more there, more as I press his cock head against my face, roll it over my cheeks and forehead and through my hair as I did before but now there is hot stickiness where it touches and I know I am going to look the way I feel which is thoroughly and satisfyingly fucked. And when at last we separate after holding each other, and I rise and look in the mirror beyond, and I see my pale skin and his dark flesh, and my dark hair and his white cum, I know I do look that way. I look the way Jenny did, triumphant and sated and oh so fucked that it makes me smile. And he smiles too, and he holds me and I hold him, and then slowly we part and return from our sensual Arcadia to the rest of life. ********* I didn't plan to tell Jenny about the coconut man - a woman has to have some secrets, after all. The rest of our holiday passed without any more of the same excitements - for me, at least, for Jenny, who knows? We packed sadly, for we had really had a good holiday (even without the sex) and had cemented our friendship firmly. Jenny was so excited to be going home to the children that I reckoned she had had the break she needed, and she even sounded quite fond of the awful Brian. But she had one more surprise in store for me yet. It was on the plane back, just after they'd announced we'd be commencing our final descent soon, when she touched my arm and murmured 'Sally, I'd better tell you. I don't want you to get into trouble. You know that box of condoms - it's been opened.' 'I know, it's OK, I chucked them,' I replied. We were silent for a bit, then I grinned. 'Didn't think you and Steve had the time.' 'Not Steve,' she said back, and returned my grin. I was a little surprised - I knew she hadn't used one with Roger. I raised an eyebrow. She was quiet for a bit then, 'well...' She stopped. 'Come on, tell all,' I smiled again. 'Well, remember that cute guy cutting the coconuts...' She stopped again and I looked at her open-mouthed. 'You too?' I started, then I burst out laughing. We'd hit on the same guys - Steve was the only experience we hadn't shared. She started laughing too. 'When...?' 'That morning you went shopping - I discovered the packet was already open.' And we went on laughing all the way to touch-down. Then we never mentioned it again. We are still great friends, Jenny and I, and we keep promising ourselves another all-girls holiday sometime. But so far, it just hasn't happened. Maybe next time we'll meet you... Two Go Wild in Bali And now Roger was speeding up, harder and faster and I was pushing to meet him, to take him as deep as I could, for the flutterings within were telling me my release was near. Each time he withdrew the ridge of his cock head was catching me just there and the excitement it was causing within me was pretty unbearable now as... I... took... him... every... thrust... taking... me... higher... until.. the... inevitable... I know I screamed then, all the desire pent-up during the evening released in seconds of ecstasy, the pleasure from my pussy expanding, filling my whole body in an explosion as I succumbed to a pure lust. And Roger too could withhold no longer, his face contorting and his body rigid as he drove into me one last time before I felt his head bulge within me and the hot stream struck deep inside. I hadn't really intended to let him cum inside me - somewhere, I recalled dimly, I had packed a packet of condoms just in case, though I really hadn't intended to use them and anyway now was too late - hadn't used them for so long the thought just hadn't occurred to me. I was in no position to resist anyway and now it was happening it felt so good... I love cum, I love the heat and passion and feel of it, and strong spurts often release another level in me, and it was this way now as I gasped and panted and writhed around the cock deep inside. The vibrations within went on and on and every muscle was taught as I took my pleasure from his pleasure. I clawed his back as he emptied himself and I thought yes, This is different and I love it. And so, for the first time in several years, I lapsed from fidelity and all I could think of was Jenny and her far greater fall. And I smiled to myself, knowing that I had led her astray just as surely as Steve, and I thought what the hell, she deserves it. As I drifted into a post-coital, somewhat unsober sleep, I felt very satisified with myself.