Chasing Miss Adventure – Bali Ch. 05

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“How can you be cold?”

“How are you NOT cold?” Exclaimed Marie, taking another hit on the bong graciously left by their host.

Bali had been left behind, its warmth and jungles replaced by the concrete charms of Adelaide, in Australia, far, far to the South and much closer to Antartica and its icy winds. Both John and Marie had to eventually leave Bali, and Adelaide was the jump-off point for travelers heading back to the United States. Friends of Marie’s had generously offered their apartment for a night while the two travelers waited for their flight, including in the welcome packet a bong and a substantial amount of pot.

Marie was curled up on a chair, her long legs covered in baggy sweatpants, her small frame hidden under a long t-shirt and an opened hoodie. The remnants of their meal was scattered on the wooden table in front of her, pushed aside to make room for the bong and a glass of red wine.

John was standing in the small kitchen, searching through the cupboards for tea cups. He was dressed in his Bali-standard shorts and t-shirt apparently unaffected by the drop in temperature. His salt-and-pepper beard was a little more disheveled, his skin a little darker than when they first met, but he retained that solid frame Marie loved to hand off of.

“Well, the water is almost boiling,” he said, pointing to the kettle sitting on the stove. “Why don’t you put some music on?”

“I can do that,” Replied Marie, reaching over to push buttons on the small stereo perched nearby.

The apartment was small and cozy, a one bedroom in a small building in the outskirts of Adelaide. It reminded Marie of Bali, with its wood floors and wood furniture, colorful wall hangings, and a large plant in the corner. It had the colors of warmth and jungles and open oceans. Double doors opened onto the small bedroom where a large bed had pride of place.

Marie started to relax, the cannabis doing its job. The music pulsed though her chest, getting her shoulders moving with the beat, down tempo honey in her ears. John placed a cup of hot tea in front of her.

“It’s decaf,” he said as he sat down at the table, a small camera in his hand. He started thumbing through the pictures, looking at them on the camera’s little screen.

“Any good shots?” Asked Marie.

“Some,” he answered. “I didn’t take a lot. I was distracted,” he said with a grin.

“Any cute ones of us? I’d love to have some record of our trip,” she said, hopeful.

John raised the camera to his eye, framing Marie in the viewfinder as she held the mug of coffee close to her lips. Her bright red hair was pulled away from her face, her blue eyes shining brightly. He snapped a picture.

“Not really. Some of you, some landscapes.” He turned the camera, framing Marie again. Another picture.

“So now you take pictures”.

“You look beautiful.”

“I’m in sweats and a hoody. Real sexy,” she said sarcastically.

“Strike a pose then,” he replied, challenging.

Marie chuckled and struck an exaggerated pose, lips pursed, hand behind her head. John took a quick picture.

“Hey! You better delete that!” She exclaimed,”I was just fucking around.”

“Well I’m not,” he said, smiling. “Come on, pose.”

Marie sighed, rolled her eyes, but in the end she posed, sitting in her chair, looking over her shoulder at John. He took a picture.

“You look great,” he said as he took a second picture.

“I don’t know what else to do,” she said, shrugging.

“Just move with the music,” suggested John.

Marie took a few seconds, listening to the music oozing out of the speakers. She was high, feeling good, finding her groove. She started moving her shoulders, her head, still seated on her chair. John stood up, moving around her, taking a few pictures.

Marie started to dance, still seated, moving sensually, arms up. John clicked away.

“There’s no way you’re getting good pictures,” said Marie, lowering Escort Ankara her arms and being still. “I look like a bum in this outfit.”

“Well, let’s change that,” said John. He stood up , putting the camera on the table. He reached over to her, hand out.

“What?” She said, confused.

“Stand up,” he said, as if it was obvious.

Marie had an inkling of what he wanted, but she was curious to see what he had in mind. A little tremor of excitement rose in her belly.

She stood up. John bent over and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder. Marie squealed with surprise at the sudden movement. He carried her over to the bedroom and laid her on the bed, her feet tumbling up. Before she could recover her senses, John was pulling at her sweatpants, pulling them off of her legs and tossing them over his shoulder.

Marie sat on the bed, legs crossed. “I’m going to be cold,” she pouted.

“I have a plan” replied John.

He rummaged in their bags for a brief moment before pulling out a pair of long socks.

“Aha!” He exclaimed.

He knelt at the bed and gently pulled at one of Marie’s legs, straightening it out. She leaned back onto her arms, letting him do whatever he was planning to do. At least socks were involved, she thought to herself. She hated having cold feet.

John slowly unrolled the sock onto her foot, pulling it up over her ankle and calf. He raised her leg, placing her foot on his chest. He slowly unrolled the sock further, up to her bent knee, then above it. He had a cheeky grin on his lips as he did do, his eyes moving from her face to her leg as he unrolled the sock, to the now exposed junction of her thighs where the curls of her pubis where nestled.

He placed her socked foot down and took the other one up. He followed the same slow procedure, unrolling the warm sock inch by inch along her long leg. Marie was looking at his face, at the obvious pleasure he was deriving from his little act. She let her leg open a little more, her hips tilt another inch, feeling the cool air on the lips of her pussy, knowing he could see more now, see the pink swell part the brown curls of her sex. The gleam in his eyes was her reward, his desire for her obvious.

She was a little surprised when he stepped back, placing her foot down on the bed. He didn’t usually miss the chance to plant his lips on her exposed pussy.

Instead he stood up and walked back to the kitchen area to grab his camera.

“Can you take your t-shirt off? You can keep the hoodie on,” he said as he walked back into the bedroom.

“And what exactly do you think we are doing?” She asked, but she still slipped the t-shirt over her head, sliding her arms back into the opened hoodie. She could feel the nipples on her small breasts become tight and long. A heat was rising in her belly, so maybe it wasn’t just the cool air that caused that.

“I am going to take pictures of you, because you are damn sexy. I hope that is ok with you,” he said with a grin.

Always that grin, Marie thought to herself, that cheeky grin. I’m in trouble.

John stepped up on the bed, his feet on either side of her legs, the camera held close to his face.

“What do you want me to do?” Asked Marie.

“Just look at me, relax, stretch…’ he replied, the camera to his eye, his finger already on the shutter.

Marie laid back, her arms by her head. She was conscious of how the soft fabric of her hoodie had slipped to the side, exposing her breasts. Were her breast too small? Would they look good? She pushed the flash of insecurity aside, staring up at John, his smile, his eyes on her body lit up by love and lust. She slid her thighs together, twisting her hips from side to side. The camera clicked away.

John stood above her, moving closer for shots of her face, moving away, taking her all in. Marie closed her eyes, listening to the music, letting her body move, her hands moving across Ankara Escort her face, her body. She squeezed her breasts, tugging at her nipples. There was heat alright.

John jumped off the bed.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he ordered gently.

Marie did, a bit dazed by the sudden change. He quickly pulled the hoodie up, covering her head.

“Put your hands in your pockets and look down,” he said.

Marie did so. This was a side she had not experienced before. He was in charge, telling her what to do, but in a gentle and caring way. He knew what he wanted to see, and Marie was happy to be part of his vision.

“Open your legs, with your hands between your thighs, still in the pockets,” he said.

Marie opened her legs. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she felt very exposed. If it wasn’t for her hands, her pussy would be displayed, opened to his camera. She felt a nervous thrill come over her. Would he ask her to move her hands?

John looked at her, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs opened, head down, the hoodie covering most of her form. It made her legs look incredibly long and shapely, her obvious nudity under the hoodie enticing and maddeningly covered. He wanted to tell her to move her hands to show him her pussy, expose herself to him. But he hesitated. A part of him wanted to continue shooting these images, to stay in this bubble of art and sensuality they had spontaneously created. He didn’t want her to shy away.

“Why don’t you stand up on the bed?” He said.

Marie did so, working to find her balance on the soft mattress. She turned to face him.

John took a picture, her standing there, her blue eyes seeking his through the lens of the camera. She was slightly above him now, her sock-covered legs made longer by the skewed perspective. The hoodie stopped right below the ridge of her hips, the triangle of dark pubes stark against her pale skin.

“Step back a bit and lean against the wall,” he suggested.

Marie leaned back and immediately got it. With the wall as support, she was able to move a bit more, angle herself, move her leg, her arms. She lifted her hands to her face, then further up, reaching up, letting the hoodie part and reveal her pale breasts and the hard pink nipples that crowned them. Her legs scissored, closed shut, bending a knee then the other.

John was snapping away, keeping the camera glued to his eye.

Marie let the dancer in her move her body, moving her arms, swaying her hips, arcing away from the wall, pulling the hoodie this way and that. It felt good to move, to be looked at, to be desired.

She turned around, her ass now on display. Her hips moved from side to side, her arms wide against the wall. And then she leaned forward a bit, pushing her ass out towards John. It was a thrill to be sexy, to feel sexy, to let the music ring through her pussy and let her pussy make the moves.

John clicked away, his mouth dry, his cock stirring against his shorts. Watching her be so sensual, so sexy, was mesmerizing, and a surprise.

Marie moved her feet apart, rolling her hips. Her pussy peeked out from between the firm globes of her ass. First just a shadow of dark pubes, then, as her feet moved further away, a slash of pink. Marie slid her hands down the wall, bending at the waist. Her pussy blossomed open, lips parting to reveal the deeper pink inside. Marie could feel the wetness gathering, lips gliding open.

“Fuck..” John heard himself exclaim.

“Yeah?” Asked Marie.

“You are so fucking hot, babe” he breathed out, throat tight.

Marie turned around again, this time leaning back, her feet apart and away from the wall. It was incredibly exposed, her pussy in full display. She let her arms drop, supported by her shoulders against the wall.

John clicked away.

Marie let her hands glide across her thighs, her hips. Her fingers brushed against her sex, parting the labia, dipping Ankara Escort Bayan into her warm wetness.

“Aren’t you going to come here and fuck me?” She asked huskily.

“How can I say no…” he replied.

Marie collapsed onto the bed, legs apart. John approached her, but the camera still fixed to his eye. He moved closer, taking shot after shot, of Marie collapsed, Marie exposed, Marie’s sex, her legs, the swell of her breasts, her face, her eyes lit up by desire.

Marie sat up. She pulled him to her, grabbing hold of the waistband of his shorts, impatient now to switch to a different game. She unzipped his shorts, reached in, pulled his hardened cock out. She looked up at him, and he pointed the camera down. She held his cock in her hand, placing soft kisses on the tip of it, keeping her eyes fixed on that lens and the eyes beyond it. It wasn’t her body being recorded now, it was her hunger, her lust, her sexual being. A shiver went through her, ending in her throbbing clit.

Marie closed her eyes and opened her mouth. John kept clicking away, pushing down on the shutter almost reflexively as the warm heat of her mouth engulfed his cock. He snapped pictures as the gland of his cock disappeared between her lips, as her mouth opened to accept his girth, as her tongue swirled around the tip, the shaft. She opened her eyes, looking up, her hand wrapped around his erection, her tongue pressed against his balls.

“Take off your clothes,” she whispered.

John quickly pulled off his shirt over his head. Marie scooted back onto the bed, legs opened, inviting him to fill the empty space.

John stepped out of his shorts and, naked, kneeled onto the bed. He brought the camera to his eye again, snapped a picture of Marie, legs wide open, reclining on her elbows, eyes locked in his. He kept clicking away as he approached, as they merged.

A shot of her hand reaching for his cock.

The tangle of legs and hips and arms, but, centered, the hard line of his cock pointed at the slick pink of her pussy.

Her pussy opening around his cock, swallowing the swollen tip.

Marie’s face, eyes closed, as a wave of pleasure washed over her.

Her hand on his cock, guiding him, holding him still in her pussy.

Her hand opening herself up, pressing on her clit, pulling his cock deeper in.

Her face, her lips partly opened by a moan, her eyes shut.

Her eyes, open, hooded with pleasure.

A dark tangle of sheets and limbs as John drops the camera.

Later they would look through the pictures, oohing and aaahing at the shots, turned on again as they watched themselves on the little screen. At some point Marie had grabbed the camera and took a few shots as well.

John’s face, eyes, closed, face slack with pleasure.

HIs arms framing her body, her legs wrapped around his hips, his shoulders a roof over her.

Their hips joined together, the soft curls of their pubes mixing.

Her hand on his face.

There were a few more shots, jumbled and out of sync, moments when either one of them remembered the camera.

A series of close up shots of his cock in her pussy. Almost out, halfway in, fully in. The wetness gleaming, her pussy stretched opened, pink, impossibly full. Her clit swollen and riding across the shaft of his cock. At the top of the picture, two of her fingers, pulling herself open.

Her hand squeezing her breast, nipple hard and full.

His thumb in her mouth as she sucks on it like a small cock. Her eyes closed, head turned to the the side.

The final shots where of her back, her ass, as John fucked her from behind.

His hand on her hips, her ass a swell of flesh leading to the long curve of her back, a splash of red hair.

Her ass, round, split by the cock driving into her pussy. Two more like that.

Finally, his cock, resting on her ass, a pool of white semen cooling on the small of her back.

They had finished the night curled up under the covers, thumbing through the pictures, talking softly, remembering, commenting on what they saw. Their kisses were deep, but less hungry. Their skin had their fill of touch, for now. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

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