He smiled, but said “Didn’t you get some of that from sleeping next to Lucy? Did you hear how good she was? Do you see how good she is?”
I realised, belatedly, that we’d found another point of pain in this complex web of friendships, and I was careful to be gentle. “Yes, yes and yes. Lucy is wonderful. But again, don’t ask me to compare *you* with others.”
I stood up in front of him, and held my arms up, inviting him to pull down my towel. And he did, and he seemed to genuinely appreciate what he saw. After another glance up for permission, he gently nuzzled my left breast, reaching around to clasp my backside and pull me towards him. After a minute or two of quiet suckling, he switched boobs, and then instead of the move that I was expecting (kissing down my body), he slowly stood up, kissing as he went, until he reached my lips. We stood there together for a few minutes, kissing with arms wrapped around each other. I pulled his own towel off from around his waist, and started rubbing his back in smooth, long strokes, finishing each stroke on his bum and lingering there. Eventually, he turned me around and gently laid me on the bed, and then (another surprise), flipped me over so that I was lying on my front. He stepped over to his bag of toiletries, and pulled out something that I couldn’t see.
“What are you….” I started, and then cut myself off with a sigh as his hands glided over my back, spreading a sweet-smelling massage oil that he was obviously carrying on the off-chance of such an occasion. What kind of man does that? I swooned happily as he worked the oil into my back, spending extra time on knotted muscles along the way, and slowly moved to my arms and neck. When he eventually changed his focus to my calves and feet, I’d already rewritten the conversation that I was going to have to have with Lucy several times, using more and more emphatic language in each draft. And then, of course, he reached my bum, and started treating my glutes with the same loving respect. By this stage, I was ready to explode with desire, and I was starting to write several loving, anonymous five star online reviews for him. He excused himself for a minute to go and grab a hand towel and wipe me down with warm water, and then he gently helped me flip over, as I did my best limp putty imitation. But now, instead of continuing with the massage oil, he started back with the kisses, gently tracing a line through my navel to my pubes, and then, ever so slowly, into the cleft below. By this stage, he could have sped up everything with no issue at all, but he kept things considered and deliberate, carefully spreading my folds open before, as gently as could be imagined, blowing on my engorged and exposed clitoris. And, oh fuck! My orgasm hit me like a train, with barely any warning, and I screamed, and I swear I blacked out for a moment.
When I’d recovered, I tried my Voice of Command.
“Get. Inside me.”
He was ahead of me, and already had his condom on. He started simply, gently feeding his (quite normally sized) cock into me from a kneeling position as I lay there, and then he raised my legs in the air and my backside off the mattress, and started thrusting in earnest. The sensation was fantastic, although I probably wasn’t going to come again in this position. After a bit though, he flipped me over again, and had me in doggy position, from where he was able to penetrate me deeply, and reach around to rub my nipples, and then, as his own climax was approaching, my clit again. Just as I felt my own body commence a new explosion, his clit hand switched around to my bum, and I felt a well lubricated thumb slip through into my back entrance, as fingers on the other hand simultaneously took up clitoris duties, rubbing me furiously as fireworks went off inside me, I started contracting wildly, and I could feel him emptying himself into the condom. I slumped forwards, and thought of nothing at all.
This time, when I came to, he had withdrawn from me and was lying next to me, smiling. I just looked at him for a minute in disbelief, until his facial expression changed.
“What?” he said, confused.
“How.. how…” I started, and then plunged on. “How did Nadia not challenge me to mortal combat in order to get you again tonight?”
He looked at me seriously, and then deadpan, drawled back at me. “I couldn’t possibly make a comparison between you and Nadia as potential partners tonight.”
In the morning, I was a little sore, but quite deliriously happy. We had slept like babies and woken up naked in each other’s arms, and then I had asked him to show that last night hadn’t been a fluke, with me riding him cowgirl this time, Tim playing with my nipples while I rubbed myself to a quick climax, before a stint in missionary until he was satisfied. He passed every test, and when we gathered at 10am for a late breakfast and to check out of the accommodation, I was totally wearing my Queen Smug expression.
Not that anybody looked unhappy. Nadia was walking a little gingerly, and I knew that Lucy would be having words with Adam later. But Nadia looked as radiant as I felt. And Lucy and Luke walked up to us holding hands together, so they’d clearly had a good night. I found a quick chance to check in with Luke with a side hug as we were packing the car.
“Are we okay, Luke?”
“We’re very good, Ciara. And I owe you an apology. I was too presumptive the other day, and also I need to learn to recognise the difference between one gorgeous woman and another in the dark.”
I laughed, and gave him a pat on the bum.
We had another busy day despite the late start. We drove up to a place called Cahill’s crossing, where enormous crocodiles waited at a semi-submerged road crossing to catch fish caught by tidal movements, and presumably to catch stupid tourists like us. We kept well back from the action, but some people were unbelievably foolhardy. I can only think that the crocs had so much fish and tourist from previous occasions that they simply couldn’t be bothered chasing anybody down.
When the tide had dropped a little, we carefully drove across and to a small Aboriginal community called Gunbalanya. Entry was restricted, but Lucy had obtained a permit in advance to visit the well-known arts centre there, which had a range of amazing, locally made arts and crafts. We spent an hour happily browsing through some wonderful bark and canvas paintings, fabrics, carvings and jewellery.
Late in our visit, I noticed Tim deep in conversation with a local woman, who seemed to be the manager. When they finished, he walked over to Lucy, Luke, Nadia and me, smiling.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“I was asking her if it would be okay to play violin at Ubirr when we get there”. Ubirr was our next destination, a famous rocky outcrop back over the river in the National Park.
“And?”
“She said that she can’t speak for the country, but it would probably be okay as long as I was respectful and sensitive to my surroundings. She also said that, if she saw me trying to monetise it on social media in any way, her nephew in Melbourne would be hunting me down to stab my leg with an authentic barbed fishing spear, which can only be removed through painful surgery. She said that she would ensure that a certificate of authenticity would be provided.”