A sound of pleasure pulsed from Alora’s throat. “I like it!” she purred. “I like everything you do to me. You know that.”
“Yes,” he mused, drawing it out like a growl.
Their roughness shocked me, yet I couldn’t find it in myself to look away. It was like porn, how they were behaving. This could be my mind’s attempt to reconcile what I’d caught Tyler doing, using the people around me as characters.
Donovan brought his hand to the impressive length jutting up from between his thighs. He stroked his hand up and down over himself, his hips rocking with the motion. Alora’s eyes fell to the action. She appeared as mesmerized as I was.
“Suck me,” Donovan ordered.
His command was so sharp, even I felt compelled by it.
Alora obeyed with eagerness, positioning herself more directly between his spread knees. She lowered her mouth to him. His entire body jolted and he tossed his head, swearing profusely.
Alora was evidently a master at the action demanded of her, using her tongue and lips and even light pressure of her gleaming teeth to pleasure the pilot. She used tricks I couldn’t understand, tricks that might or might not have existed in reality for all I knew. Donovan trembled before her even though he was clearly dominating her, grabbing her hair and yanking on it, pulling her down and down until she none of his thickness was left visible.
Alora started bouncing up and down on him, making wet sucking sounds that struck me as depraved.
I wanted to feel disgusted at the action before me, the excruciating, sickening details of public sex my mind had created, but I had no control over my emotions. My body had a different idea of the scene than I did.
My nipples ached. I could have stabbed someone with them. Seeing how Alora’s dark coral nipples were also pointed, we’d have made a deadly duo.
The seat underneath me was suddenly uncomfortable like it was when I was awake. Impulses of reality, filtering into the fantasy. I squirmed, trying to get into a better position. The wiggling motion of my legs made me throb between my thighs. My hand dropped to my lap, disappeared beneath my pants. My fingers found what they searched for and began to work.
Alora’s head bobbed harder. She put her hand down her pants, the motion visible in the way her shorts moved. My pace increased to match hers. My breath was strangled in my throat.
Donovan made a harsh sound, like a wild man who couldn’t speak. His body went tense. His hips began to jerk and spasm out of control, ramming into Alora’s mouth
Alora cried out and shook along with him.
It was more than I could handle. Light vibrations ran through me and my fingers encountered new moisture.
I sagged back into the seat, all the strength running from my body. The dream faded, the darkness of deeper sleep rising to claim me. I smiled a little and let it happen. When I’d woken up, then I’d worry about what all this meant.
Chapter 4
Public expsosure
“Wake up, sleepy bead,” someone whispered in my ear.
I registered the lumpy seat beneath me. Then, the familiarity of the voice hit me.
Alora, my tour guide.
I instantly remembered where I was.
“Are we there?” I opened my eyes.
Alora leaned over me, her eyes instantly locking onto mine. Just past her oval face was the swell of her breasts, swaying as she breathed. Each inhalation threatened to see them burst the buttons of her top.
I pulled in a quick breath. The scent of sex engulfed me in an instant.
My hand was between my legs. My panties felt wet.
My mind froze and then burst into chaotic scrambling. The dream couldn’t have been real, could it?
No. Absolutely not.
I denied the thought at once. There was no way something like that could happen. People didn’t have sex in planes, and least of all in front of strangers. Panic brewed like a storm inside my chest. I struggled to come up with an explanation for my actions. There had to be a reason for what I had done, and why it had happened now.
The textbooks would call it a stress reaction, I decided. I was nervous about coming to this island and it was making me go crazy. My mind had done what it thought best to help relieve stress. And maybe to blend in with the natives, so to speak.
Alora looked at me intently. She’d said something and I had missed it. I made myself smile and shook my head. “I’m sorry, I’m a little groggy.”
“That’s understandable,” Alora said. Her nostrils seemed to be flaring, taking in the air like a wild animal judging the safety of a situation. I restrained the urge to panic. If she could smell me, acting guilty would make things worse.
“Yes, we’re here. We’ve landed safely and you are now on Anwak soil!”
I stood up and started to stretch. I decided that might not be the best idea at the last second and swung my arms around a little instead.
Donovan sat directly ahead of me, reclining in the pilot’s seat. He wore a lazy look, like a cat in a spot of sunshine. His hair was ruffled. A cigarette hung from between his lips, unlit. He noticed me watching him and lifted a thick eyebrow.
I turned away and grabbed my luggage. “Let’s go, Alora!”
Alora smiled and motioned for me to go ahead of her. While I had been asleep, the door to the plane had already been opened. A short ramp led down to the ground.
I headed down the stairs, pausing a little to let my guide catch up with me at the bottom. Alora motioned for me to keep following her. “The terminal gate is this way.”
I nodded and walked along with her. With a low rumble, plane engines started up. I turned back and saw heat rippling in waves from the engine of the dingy contraption we’d just left. “Donovan isn’t staying?”
“Oh, no. He has other flights to make.”
I nodded. I felt a little less frazzled now I was outside and on the move. I noticed that the runway of this airport was very small and abutted against jungle trees. Only a few planes speckled the tarmac, all of them small and not in much better condition than Donovan’s.
There are only ten-thousand native inhabitants on this island. I guess they don’t need much in the way of air transportation.
The weather was also much different from where I’d started. Back in the States, pants and a cardigan over my shirt had been acceptable, comfortable. Necessary, to hide my lack of a shower. The heat here was oppressive, lying thick in the air, radiating from above and rebounding from below. Intense humidity flavored every breath with damp.
I hurried after Alora, eager to get into the airport and to some air-conditioning before I started to sweat.
We stepped through the terminal gate together, down a short hall to where a pair of officials waited.
My steps staggered. The female official wore a bikini so small, she might as well not have been wearing anything at all. The man next to her was a little better, in beach shorts. As neither of them possessed pockets, they wore their credentials around their necks on lanyards.
My heart pounded so hard I couldn’t speak.
Alora caressed my shoulder. “My people are free with their bodies.”
That was an understatement. Looking past the officials at the gate to the rest of the airport, I saw more people dressed in practically nothing and even several as naked as the day they were born.
“Nudity is common here,” Alora continued. “It is all a part of our life. You’ll come to learn more about that during your stay.”
I clung to the reason I’d come here, my studies. I had to look at all this through the eyes of an academic. People passing by stopped to stare at me, paying me more attention than their naked comrades. I was the odd one out, overdressed and uncomfortable.
“I see,” I said slowly.
“We must go through security now.” Alora put her hand on the small of my back and nudged me forward.
I stumbled up to the two officials and took out my documents, my tickets, and my passport. My clammy palms left wet, wrinkled mark
s on the pages.
The man accepted my papers and glanced through them. “You are here for what purpose?” His voice was accented, the syllables thick and rich.
“Kelly is here to learn about the culture of our island,” Alora said, saving me from having to answer.
The man looked at her and the two of them smiled at each other, sharing a secret I wasn’t privy to. He turned his attention back to me and held my documents out. “Welcome to Anwak. You will enjoy your stay.”
I clutched my papers and hurried away. Something in the way he had looked at me unsettled me.
Alora grabbed my arm and pointed. “Look over there, Kelly.”
Even against my better judgment, I turned to look. Shock splashed into me like a bucket of cold water at the sight of two airport workers, scantily clad, locked into a passionate position. They were clearly maintenance workers, their cart of brooms and mops, and chemicals standing forgotten to one side. The female of the pair bent over a trash can, thrusting her rear at the lap of a man behind her; he bent over her, his hand down the back of her bright purple-and-orange skirt, obviously fingering her. The woman moaned and rocked on her heels.
I jerked my eyes away with a massive effort. Alora kept an eye on the pair, licking her lips as she watched the action. She noticed me and frowned. “You came here to learn, but you won’t watch?”
“It’s private!” I blurted out.
“Nothing here is private. You’ll learn soon.” She sighed and gestured for me to follow her.
I could only hope this was a rare occurrence. I hurried after her.
My hopes were quickly dashed as we passed through the airport, going by the usual little restaurants and shops. Everyone was naked, or on the verge of nudity, the crowd a sea of creamy brown flesh. No one batted an eye at the lack of modesty. They could have been anywhere else in the world, at a market, a movie theater, a grocery store, they were all so casual.
Even when someone acted anything but casual, the others around them treated it as absolutely normal.
A couple was going at it on a bench, the woman bouncing up and down on her naked partner’s lap like a professional rodeo queen.
Behind the counter in a gift shop, a shopkeeper hiked up her skirt and displayed herself to a man who might or might not have been a stranger. He grabbed her from behind and dove right in without a second thought. The woman moaned and cried out. She attracted the attention of others in the store. They went over to watch, grinning, touching themselves.
I couldn’t even comprehend it. How had I walked onto a porn set without knowing it? Alora said nothing was private, but some things had to be! Or did they?
Were there doors on the bathroom stalls here? Did they lock? Did people shut their windows at night?
My mind reeled with so many questions and I’d only been on the island for fifteen minutes if that. It was clear that I was going to have to manage my expectations, here. Readjust in a hurry.
The wide pathway in front of me emptied into the main body of the airport, where a single luggage belt rotated in a lazy circle. More people stood around or sat around, either talking or eyeing each other. As I watched, two people approached each other from out of the crowd and jumped onto the rumbling conveyor belt. They mashed their bodies together, their flesh jiggling and vibrating from the motion of the machine.
I tried not to look away, but I couldn’t help it. I looked to Alora, hoping for some sort of explanation. I wanted to understand, not keep cringing away like a xenophobic jerk.
She was gone.
“Alora?”
I turned in a circle.
Alora’s curvy body and dark hair were easy to find, despite that she was currently entangled in the arms of a very large, muscular man. He was naked. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I had to gasp at the way everything was just out on display.
His hand was shoved down the front of her skimpy shorts, pushing them down to expose her shaved mound. Alora grabbed her top and yanked from either side, popping the buttons. Her breasts sprang free. The man buried his face in her breasts and she grabbed his hair and ground on him. Their frenzied actions showed this wasn’t enough contact. The man pushed Alora’s shorts all the way down off her thighs.
She wasn’t wearing any panties. Her butt cheeks were round and soft, as brown as the rest of her.
Alora pushed on her partner’s hand, and he fell to his knees before her and shoved his head between her thighs. His tongue, startlingly pink, slid out of his mouth and then inside her. Alora’s hips jerked, her thighs slapping against his shoulders while he seemed to be trying to devour her.
I tore my gaze away from the sight, my stomach churning. I felt sick like I might throw up, but the sickness was also inside my mind. I just couldn’t deal with all of these things happening one after the other with no break. These wanton individuals so freely expressing their desires wasn’t what I was used to, or what I had expected.
I knew these people were going to be sexually open, but I had been expecting some orderliness. I thought the normal taboos would be more accepted, like homosexuality, or doing butt stuff. I had not once considered that common decency would be thrown out the window.
I’ll just give Alora some time to . . . do her thing.
I started walking, not knowing where I would go.
I ran right into a brick wall, a rare breed of brick wall with brown, muscular arms and breathtaking gray eyes. The man caught me before I could fall over.
“Hey,” he said slowly, looking me up and down. His white teeth flashed in a smile; evidently, he approved of what he saw.
I pushed out of his arms. “Sorry,” I squeaked and took off again. I felt his eyes follow me, burning on the back of my neck.
A nearby display of signs pointed to customer service, the exit, and a few other places I didn’t care about.
I rushed up to the customer service desk. “Excuse me!” I cried, whacking at the bell on the counter.
A woman approached from just out of sight, wearing only a skirt with high slits on both thighs. “Hi, can I help you?” Her smile was warmer than the air outside. She looked me up and down and furrowed her brows together.
Yet another example of how I was the different one here. I dropped my head to avoid looking into her face, as her gaze told me she’d like nothing more than to take some of my clothes away to make me more comfortable. “Are there any scheduled flights to America?”
Her smile faltered. “You’ve only just arrived, from the look of you.”
My tongue tangled on excuses.
“I’m afraid there are no flights to America this week,” the servicewoman said, with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders. “We are a small port.”
“Thank you,” I muttered.
It looked as though I couldn’t leave even if this all got to be too much for me. I’d have to try and deal with it.
I headed in the direction of the exit. I burst through into the heavy, wet, oppressive air, panting. It was a whole different world outside, the beginning of which I barely glimpsed from the tarmac. Huge trees towered overhead, sunlight shining through the frond leaves striping the ground with shadows. Colorful butterflies and other, swifter insects flitted about, flocking around patches of planted flowers. Red and green parrots perched in the trees, letting out shrieks and whistles, some of which came close to sounding human. And in the distance, a monkey screeched.
Thick, heady floral scents perfumed the air, and there was an overall greenness flavoring every breath I took.
Many paths and roads branched out from the airport, always lined with trees and bushes and flowerbeds. Cars appeared to be a rarity, and instead, motorcycles and golf carts were the main means of transportation. That, and bicycling, and walking, not that many of the people outside were moving in a forward direction. Up and down were the predominant directions. Twosomes and threesomes and moresomes occupied whatever spot they desired, while others sat and pleasured themselves alone to the sights; individuals weren’t
individual for long, as others who were only too willing to assist came over to them.
This island . . . It was going to drive my mind into chaos.
Chapter 5
Girls loving girls
Three hours of walking. It took three hours of walking to find my hotel without Alora. The same scenes from inside and around the airport repeated no matter where I went. People having sex. People wearing nothing. People eyeing up each other and even me, disobeying all the rules I had learned growing up about how one shouldn’t stare.
Many times, I was tempted to shed my cardigan because of the absolute heat of the place, but showing off more skin seemed inadvisable. I pushed through the discomfort, through all my various discomforts, letting them float like a haze around me. It was a state akin to numbness, which was all I could ask for at the moment.
The hotel was a long, low building with rustic wooden features and more windows than walls. Already I had noticed the islanders’ fondness for bright colors and the hotel was no exception, its walkway edged on either side with flowerbeds brimming over with colorful blossoms. The windows showed expansive views of the rooms beyond, each one had a different color scheme: the orange of a harvest moon, jungle green, coral pink, yellow like the flesh of a ripe mango.
Some part of me tried to be enchanted. I was too tired to keep it up.
I trudged up the walkway, my feet aching hard as if they could sense this was the end of the journey. There was no door, only a beaded screen meant to discourage insects.
That means . . .
I edged in through the screen, the beaded strings clacking together behind me. The sweltering temperature dropped a significant amount, and a faint breeze swept through the building, but there was no air-conditioning. The airflow came only from a little rotating fan on the reception desk.
The lobby held a fountain in its middle, water splashing down as many tiers as there were colors of the rainbow. Palm plants and fragrant potted flowers dotted each corner, and the walls were flanked with benches. I didn’t see a TV or anything like might be normally found in a hotel lobby. That was, so far, the only part I didn’t mind about the island. Television seemed pointless when there were such beautiful sights out each window.
Kelly Exposed Page 3