Mother fucker this place is amazing. I don’t know what it is. The weather? The insatiable merry-go-round of beautiful girls? The impeccable surf? The food? The new friends? Who knows. It’s probably all of that and more. Like the little things. Like the dogs roaming Dreamland beach. And the roadside roosters and brown cows. The little fires, and the dead kitties.
There was a party on the beach last night at Padang’s with the tide slowly rising. The Polish girl was there, and I only say girl because she’s three years younger than me. When they’re younger they’re girls, when they’re older than me they’re women. That’s just How my mind works. But this girl is intriguing. As soon as the homies bail, she grabs me by the hand and says, “Let’s go hang out somewhere.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.” So we march-stumble down the beach, around a rock to seclusion and she pulls me down to the sand with her and puts her lips to mine and her tongue to my tongue and like nothing we’re rolling and grabbing until she flinches. “My pussy’s burnt from the sun today.” She’d been naked sunbathing on some secret beach down 500 stairs not far from Uluwatu. “And it’s a shame because I want to have sex with you right here right now.” In that moment I thought to myself how funny Polish accents are. How cute. How deliciously seductive and to the point. She put her hand down my pants and grabbed me in a firm grasp.
"But my lips," she puckered. "They are good for sucking, no?" They were. Moist, full red Jolie lips, glistening in the moonlight, they were. "Let me. Please."
[stop]
"But my lips," she puckered. "They are good for sucking, no?" They were. Moist, full red Jolie lips, glistening in the moonlight, they were. "Let me. Please."
[stop]
