Archive for February, 2007


February 24, 2007 5 comments

It’s sun and water again. So much sun; so much water; so much wind. Where am I?

I feel sunswept. Bleached by heat and light, carved and smoothed by wind. All the basic elements of purity. Life seems too bright, the sand too white. I feel encouraged to be hedonistic, lazy, carefree. The classroom is a 2000 ft dizzying wall of coral, disappearing into hazy dark blue well before that depth. Lectures at night are attended with sand between my toes and salt in my hair. Where am I?

This is the Caribbean.

I am no closer to the answers I sought here; namely, is Biology something I should seriously consider pursuing? I find myself somehow removed from the others here; somehow Different. Yet…

I don’t know. It’s hard to think here, at least beyond the next meal, lecture, and kayak trip. I’m measuring time in events: a bonfire, a movie, a trip to the one town on this island in pursuit of drinks, music, entertainment.

And…somehow…I have also been able to explore further, deeper, into my submissiveness while here. Like a tentative light probing into a dark corridor. There are things there – thoughts, fantasies, desires – that I’ve kept chained inside. Will they come out? With the help of an external force, perhaps. Do I want them out? That I do not know. But they are there, nonetheless.

I have all the reason to be wary, in many dimensions. And yet…what drives me? Curiosity? Lust? Desperation? What will all of this lead to?

Categories: ethereal, travelog

a story

February 9, 2007 4 comments

During the day out here in the jungle, it is oppressively humid, and your energy just runs with the sweat out of your body. Even in the evening, anything more than a leisurely paced walk is sweat-inducing. It’s too hot to do anything. It’s too hot to even think about fucking.

But early in the morning, at around 4:30am, the heat of the day lifts for a brief interlude until dawn, and a cooling atmosphere settles on the skin. It can even get a little chilly.

I woke up in the dark. Lifting the mosquito net cocooning my bunk bed, I sat up with sudden determination. I crossed the short distance to the door, stepping lightly over creaky floorboards, feeling for the doorknob. Outside, the open corridor was flooded with waning moonlight. The constant background buzzing of cicadas accompanied me as I walked down silently, heartbeat beginning to quicken with anticipation. I stopped in front of his door and pressed an ear to the wood.

Soft snores. Deep breaths.

Determined not to make any noise, I inched the door open, wincing whenever the bottom scraped against the floor. Finally, it was wide enough for me to slip inside.

He was asleep on his back, shirtless and stretched out on his bunk. The mosquito net enshrouded the bed, but I could see his chest rising and falling. So peaceful. I almost didn’t want to wake him. Almost. But the stirring in my loins that had awakened me was insistent. I lifted the net, crawled inside, and bent over him, hands already moving under his boxers. I licked my lips unconsciously, feeling his soft penis inside. God I wanted him.

With slow, massaging movements, I coaxed the shaft into semi-hardness, just enough for the head to peek through the slit of the boxers. I leaned over, mouth open and breathing softly onto it—low heated breaths. My tongue snuck out for its first taste, licking the tip of the head. I looked up as he shifted slightly, a slight groan escaping his lips. His eyelashes flickered for a second.

His cock was fully hard now, and I lowered my mouth onto him eagerly. The skin was salty under my tongue. One hand reached through the hole and under to cup his balls; the other gripped the shaft. I licked and lathered, and when I came up for air, I could see the saliva gleaming on his cock. He was moving again, muscles tensing and legs straightening as he murmured in his sleep.

I took him in my mouth again, working up and down, feeling the wonderful thickness and heat filling my throat. Suddenly there was a hand on my head, and hips actively thrusting. A moan escaped my lips, and I looked up again. He was staring at me, sleep heavy in his eyes but quickly becoming glazed with lust. My heart leaped.

His eyes bored into mine as my head continued bobbing, and I could see them naming me, marking me as the slut I am, without word.

He dragged me up to him by my hair, his free hand grazing my cheek, neck, shoulder, breast, hip. Our lips locked, mine still salty, as he eased himself out of his boxers. Hands guided his steel hard cock to me, to my slick entrance, eager and pulsing.

The first thrust is always breathtaking. I gasped into his open mouth, which quickly turned into a grunt as I felt him filling me completely. I ground my hips down hard onto his. We were both sweating now, heat filling the enclosed mosquito net; skin slick with sweat that we licked off each other’s neck and shoulders. I was shuddering, feeling him pump into me, hips bucking, hands groping, grasping, pulling, slipping along wet skin. I felt like I was rising as I came, as he continued thrusting fiercely through it, watching my eyes roll back through half-closed lids.

The fire between my thighs rose up through my groin and stomach, so that my cheeks and fingers tingled. I held onto the sides of his head, groaning with him, watching his face contort beautifully as he came, still pumping, inside me.

Categories: fantasy, sex, travelog

Mountain to mountain

February 8, 2007 Leave a comment

Hola again! It’s been awhile…And a lot’s been going on. Lots of traveling, lots of work, lots of bug bites. My whole body itches (ouch), and I have sunburn on top of sunburns. But it’s great! We went from this privately owned Biological reserve in the mountains, where the families practice sustainable development to near perfection, to the south Pacific lowland tropics, hot and steamy and full of exotic animals.

But now we’re in a comparatively luxurious hotel for a 3-day “break” (still have lectures and plant stuff, as well as paper revisions to go through), and already I’m getting glued to my computer again, after not having had internet for a couple weeks.

I’ve been writing a lot in a private journal, but I just don’t really have time to sit and write out a more coherent blog post. Suffice to say, there’s not much to report on the sexual front. Lots going through my head, and very little opportunity for any kind of release. Sigh.

Categories: ethereal, travelog