Darkest Love

by Melody Tweedy

  Annie drifted off a few times, entering the first movement of a sweet, symphonic dream. Everything was slow and lilting and adagio: Rain’s tongue, the waves, her heartbeat, the dance of the flame. She woke with a smile sometimes, eyes crinkling at the sight of Rain working her with his tongue, relaxed and close to her as a kitten cleaning his kin.

  The flame danced. The parrots sang. The man’s eyes closed. Dreams merged into each other. Annie’s own heart formed a lazy beat for the dreamy evening, ticking along like a metronome as she drifted between dreams and sighs and orgasms.

  “Oh, Rain.” His shoulders were spread out before her, streaked with gold by her shimmering, dancing candle. His hands played up and down her hips. His palms were wet from drinking up the moisture on her body. His eyes were sleepy and happy.

  Thump. Annie moaned as the tongue worked. Her favorite move of his was a consistent pressure he applied, using his tongue like a pad. She liked that from both his fingers and his tongue. Annie moaned with joy as he transitioned from flicks to that firm press. For full seconds he rested the whole pad of his tongue on her clitoris and pressed. No flicks, just pressure.

  A flat tongue. Pressure. Then pulses: one, two, three.

  “That’s good.” Her next orgasm brought a tingle to her arms she didn’t usually feel. Warm orgasms came in waves, one rushing in before the previous one had finished. Annie was a queen—her body stretched out like a cat’s, her clitoris maxed out but begging for more. She was no longer able to distinguish the waves of erotic pleasure from one another, or dreaming from waking, or her own steady breath from his.

  The flicker of her candle merged with the light of the pagan moon. She had entered Nirvana.

  Thump.

  “Rain,” She awoke at that second thump and called to the head between her legs, taking a second to admire the buttocks behind it. Rain’s leg pulsed with each move of that heavenly tongue. Giving pleasure to Annie engaged all of Rain’s body too–with each lick the muscles in his legs rearranged, showing themselves. “Rain, it’s…”

  Annie never finished the thought. She gasped. Looking around the room for the first time since Rain started the oral, she was shocked by the shapes she made out. The room was full of shadows: dark and light alternated in patterns created by the moon. Panels of starlight shot through a hole under the bamboo roof and under the door. The shapes of her crude pieces of furniture were positively sinister. It looked like a dozen perverts were leering at her from the shadows.

  So many weird shapes.

  That was probably why she hadn’t noticed the person standing by the door.

  “Sola!” The princess stepped forward, To Annie’s shock the princess was smiling easily, warmly, as if she saw this sort of thing every day.

  Annie knew for a fact that she didn’t—the Kaamo hauled Sola off before every erotic ceremony. Everything she knew about sex—oral, penetration, everything—she had picked up from eavesdropping. There were a few loose, forthcoming and gossipy tribeswomen who Sola loved to sit with.

  “Miss Annie. I arrive on this day of ritual, and find you extending our pro-cee-dings.”

  Annie did not appreciate the crack. “We are doing nothing of the sort, Sola,” she snapped. Rain had straightened up, his abs pretty and naked, twisted so Annie could see how tight and fleshless they were. He was all muscle, her man. My man, thank you–to be enjoyed privately. Rain’s head was twisted, looking at Sola, and Annie could not see his expression.

  The princess was still grinning. Her pretty Beyonce-esque eyes flashed with both naughtiness and sex-solidarity. Her tiny, pearly teeth caught the candlelight as she smiled, and her face only fell a little when Annie scolded her, then bounced back up. She had real princess confidence, and a royal sense of entitlement.

  “It is fitting that you enjoy each other so beautifully, on our day of bonding and celebration–the day we call Tiltu.”

  She did not know when to shut up. “That may be so,” Annie’s replied coldly. “But we would like to be alone.”

  The princess did not move. Rain twisted around so Annie could see his face for the first time. She was annoyed to see a raised eyebrow and a horny smirk on his face.

  “Please leave us alone, Sola.” Annie repeated.

  For now, the princess did just that.

  Chapter 14

  For the next three weeks Rain’s journal was his constant companion, fixed to his hip as he darted around the island, hiking over heathlands and lingering in the sparkling blue water. He bodysurfed after lunch, letting the froth-fringed waves of the Pacific throw his body onto the sand again and again. But mostly he journaled; he didn’t want to miss any details. After watching the diligent way Annie recorded her thoughts, right down to the color of the boar-skin loincloths and ornamentation on Sola’s throne at Tiltu—

  he was inspired to follow.

  He often went to the seashore because he’d noticed groups of Kaamo men and women heading there. Rain didn’t tell Annie about these trips because he knew she’d formalize everything–she always wanted to give the Kaamo so much warning before she showed up, lest the tribesmen become startled and shower her with spears. She was always talking about clearing their visits with Sola, emphasizing how advantageous Sola’s attitude was: because the princess believed the Westerners were sacred, she was willing to give them viewing rights to all sorts of rituals, as long as they didn’t interfere.

  “Well…how do we know they aren’t changing the ceremonies, or their behavior, because they know we are watching?” he had asked.

  Annie had tapped her pencil, considering this. “You think our presence will skew the results?”

  “Absolutely. Definitely. For God’s sake Ann, this is anthropology. There is debate about whether the emotions of the observer can skew results. It determines what you consider important, what you choose to record, blah, blah, blah.”

  Annie stared at him. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I am always being accused of skewing this and that,” Rain reminded her, cross at the memory. “Everything is skewed by my sexist Western-male eyes. Never mind I don’t feel a connection to Western society, or to any society.” Rain sighed in frustration. “Can we record, or know, anything objectively? Or are we merely recording ourselves?”

  “I see what you mean.”

  “Those journals…“ He gestured to the books on the table, where they lay overlapping as if they were enjoying an affectionate cuddle. “Are they a record of Kaamo life? Or just our personal diaries?”

  “Okay, Rain.”

  “You talk about Sola’s embrace of us as if it is a boon. But really it is the ultimate taint. The Kaamo will not be acting naturally. On some level they must be aware that we are watching.”

  “They are a pretty unself-conscious people, Rain. Robust, aggressive.”

  “I know. But I think we should write a big passage about it in our ‘Sources of Error’ section. Probably a few pages.”

  Annie disagreed with that, saying it would cause people to take the whole study less seriously. She didn’t think they should even mention Sola’s dream, or her embrace of the Rain man.

  “I couldn’t disagree more. But we’ll see,” Rain had said, before sweeping up his journal from the book-huddle and heading for the beach.

  Now as he listened to the waves and raised his face like a solar panel to drink up the rays of the sun, his thoughts spiraled out.

  How stunning the South Pacific was. How massive, dangerous, lush and full of color. He hadn’t explained it to Annie, but something had shifted in him yesterday. Between the extra-hot sex, the near-death experience, and the Kaamo orgy… he felt like his life was speeding up and spiraling out. His perspective was getting bigger and bigger.

  Rain sat on the shore, letting the foam bubbles float over the toes Annie had licked last night. Water settled in his squeaky-clean nails as if they were pearl-colored rock pools. In fact, the foam did not look unlike the foam of the body wash she used. Tiny bubble-clusters clung to
his skin, sticking to his foot hair, then falling away as the next wave rushed in. It struck Rain that although an ocean is mind-bogglingly vast, especially the massive Pacific, only at its edge are such bubbles formed. This froth was like a lace trim on the hem of an enormous blue dress.

  His foot sat in such a special space. His skin was tickled by foam formed where the Pacific crashed to its death.

  Crash… Crash… Crash. Rain closed his eyes, listening to the waves. Coming here, coming to Sivu, you saw through the veil. Rain gulped the salty ocean air, truly aware at this moment of how vast the world is, of how mysteriously cosmic forces seep into our lives, making themselves known.

  It takes a trip to the other side of the world—or some really great sex with the likes of Annie Childs—to make a man conscious of that all over again.

  Such experiences did not unsettle Rain, and as he got older he felt more and more eager to merge, like his embattled father, into something universal, something cosmic. Hopefully with better results, in my case.

  After spending time with the Kaamo, he did not feel like he wanted to rush back to New York, to that security blanket, the way Annie often said he did. He felt like he wanted to dissolve and become larger by doing so. He wanted to float up and away, beyond everything familiar, including journalling and supermarket shopping, Annie’s teary scolding and Mandy’s self-conscious sex-poses. To connect with something greater…

  With what? God?

  Rain grinned. A spiritual awakening, just like my old man. He opened his eyes again, watching a big wave crash and deposit a new collection of bubble-islands on his foot. Clusters of them covered his skin: big and small, connected and isolated. Not to just islands, to all sorts of geological bubble-formations—isthmuses and mainlands and archipelagos and peninsulas.

  They washed away. Better watch the old brain. A spiritual awakening can easily go AWOL.

  As he walked away from the shore, back towards the lush tropical forest behind the dunes, it occurred to him his sex life with Annie might have more to do with this sudden spiritual awakening than he dared acknowledge. Rain grabbed a pine tree trunk and swung around it, entering the dark forest, eager now to inhale those smells and feel the crunch of native grasses and slop of sludgy mud under his feet.

  At least life was always interesting.

  * * * *

  Rain was breathing in the sap of the banksia, wondering about their Gondwanan character, when she appeared.

  Sola.

  There was no mistaking that ass. It appeared through the tree-trunks. First it was hidden, like Eve’s hips under foliage, by a low-hanging vine. The lush green rope crossed her body, covering the womanly parts. Then Rain stepped forward. The vine gave way, as if intimidated by his charge. It climbed to the small of her back, then to her shoulders.

  Finally it was over her head; the whole princess was in view. Rain’s heart rate had risen just as steadily.

  Should I call out?

  He didn’t need to think about it too much–a precedent had been set. Sola had walked in on him, just last night, as he was licking between Annie’s legs. She just strolled in as if she owned the place.

  In a way she does own the place, Rain reminded himself. Sola was the princess of Sivu. The monarch.

  YOU are the visitor here, Mistern. A cobbled-together bamboo hut does not a Western settlement make.

  Sola sure knew it. She had strolled through the door and just stood there, giving Rain and Annie a bit of time to grunt and moan, making spectacles of themselves. Only then had she stepped out of the shadows and spoken.

  Now it was Rain’s turn to sneak up on her. He walked as softly as possible, watching his feet, trying to step on smooth surfaces where he would make the least noise.

  Careful… careful… eyes down. It was hard to take his eyes off that ass. His dick had stirred the second he saw it, springing into action as instinctually as any beast in the forest spotting some lush, vulnerable flesh. Her buttocks were two perfect full moons—flawless, smooth circles. They were pronounced, large yet not mammoth like the buttocks of some of the Kaamo women he had seen at the ceremony. Princess Sola was pert and tight and had curves that were smaller than Annie’s mocha-toned planes and as awe-inspiring as the granite cliffs and brilliant-brown river-beds of Sivu. Her buttocks gave way gracefully to the curve of a tiny waist. Above that her breasts bounced into view whenever she twisted. Rain caught some snippets of side boob as he approached.

  The word to describe her body was harmonious. Each curve gave way gently to the next; each incline complemented its neighbors elegantly. Sola reminded Rain of a Mobius strip, that twisting strip that is actually comprised of only one surface. The planes twist around so smoothly your eye just keeps following them, keeps looking.

  Rain realized he was leering, definitely in Mobius-strip territory. When he reached the bottom of Sola’s feet, or the top of her head, or the nails at the end of her hands. Goddammit! His eyes just rushed back around again for another lap.

  Gulp. Rain’s throat leapt into action as involuntarily as his cock had, clearing itself with no conscious bidding from him. He wondered how Sola would react if he hinted he found her attractive. It would probably come out of him in one way or another—some huskiness in his voice, a tent in his pants.

  Maybe she would actually leap on him. Show a bit of that Kaamo robust sexual forwardness.

  She’d certainly taken liberties last night, staring at him with his ass in the air and his tongue hard at work. She’d probably gotten a good look at what was hanging between his legs.

  Had the room been very shadowy? Or had he given the princess a look at the contents of his man-pouch, Annie’s name for his boxer-briefs?

  He ducked his head and weaved his body to avoid head-butting the vines that cross-crossed the path. First he’d thought Sola was cleaning herself, but now as Rain got closer–crunching pebbly ground as softly as he could under his soles–he realized the stream he thought he had seen meters back was a mirage; here in Sola’s forest nook there were only tree roots, ferns, sunbeams, leaves of every juicy shade of green and an ass juicier and sweeter than all the fruits and flowers put together.

  Sola was not cleaning herself. She was definitely running her hands down her body though, probably for… what? For another reason?

  Was she… posing for him?

  She turned, shocking him with a flash of those sparkling amber eyes and tiny pearly teeth at once. Rain’s heart hammered as her breasts swayed into view–big, bouncy and biteable.

  They would not be denied. A warm welcome would be given.

  “Princess.” He smiled. You are indecent.

  Sola giggled. Her laugh was so tinkling Rain wondered if that had been what he heard when he imagined a stream bubbled under Sola’s feet.

  “What a nice laugh you have.”

  “Thank you.” She grinned, gesturing up. Rain followed her hands up to a brilliant green canopy shot through with rays of sunshine. A centerpiece, the sun itself, burst through the leaves occasionally, making Rain squint.

  Leaves were rustling. “Your sounds have disturbed the trees, princess,” Rain announced. “Or was it your loveliness?”

  Sola’s next giggle was ambiguous. She was always giggling, he was not sure if she understood his flirtation. “The birds,” she said, gesturing up again. After a moment, a group of nesting firetails shot out, and Rain understood they had been startled by the conversation. He was about to make a comment to that effect when one of them, a specimen with a brilliant red breast and tail, and two yellow ear-shaped crescent moons at the side of its head, swooped down. It chirped, landing briefly on Sola’s hand before bouncing away into the scrub.

  “I feed them sometimes. They know me. The same birds follow me, to see if I have grains. They’re very smart.”

  “Smart to follow you. Maybe they saw your pretty bottom.”

  It sounded so leery and perverted-old-man-ish Rain felt embarrassed for a second. But his feeling turned to bliss when Sola g
iggled her prettiest giggle yet, turning and waving her buttocks for him in a cheeky move that would have qualified as cute if it didn’t send his dick into rock-hard rocket launcher mode in half a second flat. Rain shuffled, willing the erection to go away, but a bend from Sola that threw her silhouette into relief did not help matters.

  Christ. Sola, who had never seen a hardcover book, let alone an MTV television program, unwittingly channeled Jennifer Lopez at her hottest for a moment. She turned to the side, sticking her butt out and shaking playfully. Then she stooped lower, grabbing her ankles, and pressed her tongue between her teeth as she suppressed a laugh, making eye contact.

  Oh boy. Rain’s insides were heating up. The pose made her butt look extraordinary, emphasizing its roundness and her improbably tiny waist. That little waist! Thank God the breasts above it were covered with boarskin today or Rain might have blown his top, fertilizing the inside of his pants as he stood with the princess in this fecund forest.

  “I like you, Rain.”

  “I like you too, Sola.” The words popped up. Why did she do this to him? Everything flowed, as if none of the log-jams of human culture, his or hers, were in place. Their interaction took the shape it wanted.

  It was almost as if…they met together in a higher place. Somewhere beyond rules or collective memory.

  Somewhere higher? Or was it somewhere lower?

  Low, down and dirty. Rain licked his lips, trying to gather his racing thoughts as the princess stepped towards him. The canopy above them rustled, and a rainbow of birds appeared briefly like a sign from the gods.