COCONUTS OVER YOU YEVA WEIST
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COCONUTS OVER YOU YEVA WEIST
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyright of this work.
COCONUTS OVER YOU Copyright © YEVA WEIST, 2007 Cover art by BEVERLY MAXWELL Edited by DARY CAMPBELL
All Romance eBooks, LLC Palm Harbor, Florida 34684 www.allromanceebooks.com
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever with out written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Yeva Weist
Bare feet pounded the hard clay opening in the middle of the volcanic forest. Sparks burst from the open fire in the center of the clearing and drifted up into the pitch of night. A gentle haze of smoke curled its way around the dancers as the beat of the tamtams pulsed into a frenzy. The island of Ambrym in the Vanuatu Islands is the heart of black magic in the archipelago. Famous for the Rom dance which calls forth evil and mysterious spirits, the islanders dress in cloaks made of dried banana leaves and wear brightly colored masks. The whirling crackle of the dried leaves added to the cacophony of sound that surrounded Scott and his friends. Scott felt drawn into the mad macabre beat of the music. He heard himself chanting. So far removed was he from his commonplace world of crunching numbers and kissing corporate ass, that he felt as though he were floating through the chaotic din of drum and chant. The dancers whirled faster and faster around the fire. Their 1
Coconuts Over You masks flashed an eerie swath of red and white and stripes of blue. The swirl of colors assaulted Scott’s mind. “I want to dance, too,” he murmured out loud. He staggered to his feet. He wanted to be a part of the hammering heartbeat of the island. Too much native wine had loosened Scott’s normal inhibitions, and he shook off the restraining hands of his friends, and leapt into the fury of the dance. “Come on,” Scott yelled to Jason and Ross, but they laughed and waved him on. “You go, buddy,” said Ross. “Have some fun.” “God knows you need some fun,” called Jason. “Oh, and a life.” He nodded. “A life—get a life, Scott.” Scott was not listening. He was whirling around with the dancers in a mad rotation about the roaring bonfire. His flip flops scuffled through the cloud of dust rising from the clay floor. He edged to the outside of the dance ring and kicked his sandals at Jason and Ross. As he continued to dance around the ring, he lifted his tee-shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. Waves of heat from the fire bathed his body causing beads of sweat to immediately form on his chest. Rivulets of water ran down into the indention between the swell of his pecs. The music caused his body to tighten. His arms felt tense and hard. His thighs felt as though they would burst 2
Yeva Weist through the thin silken confines of his swim trunks. With every slap of his feet against the ground, his calves tightened until he felt as though he were spring-loaded and ready to blow. Scott had never danced so hard or so sensuously. He chanced a glance at Ross and Jason, they were watching him. They looked hungry like two little jackals just waiting for their prey to stop dancing so that they could eat him up. The thought gave Scott a little shiver. He turned away. Hanging out with Jason and Ross was fun, but they were a couple. Scott wanted to find someone of his own; and for the first time in a long time, he thought that the time was ripe. He felt full—potent. As he danced, he turned and began to move around the figure of Roymata, the great and powerful king of Vanuatu. Scott danced in invocation of the king’s power. He wanted a man. He was intoxicated with his need for release. “Roymata,” Scott called and lifted his hands toward the carved wooden statue. “Roymata, bring me a man to love.” He continued his wild dance around the statue. Soon, he heard a different sound…another tamtam was beating in the forest behind Roymata. The different beat lured him from the warmth of the fire into the thick foliage of the forest. 3
Coconuts Over You In an instant the lush interior of the forest enclosed Scott in a warm embrace. He wandered silently through the trees. His only light was from the distant sheen of the moon. “This is crazy,” he thought.
“What am I doing
wandering alone here? I should go back.” But he didn’t want to go back.
He wanted to move forward and
find…something. What? Love? He laughed at himself for believing the island’s voodoo. A small red face popped out of the darkness in front of him. He screamed and jumped backward. The tiny red face started to chuckle. Soon, the trees around him were covered in little red faces. He spun around and around looking at the myriad of shining eyes and chuckling beaks. The trees were alive with birds. Scott yelped and ran leaving the trail and crashing through the underbrush. He felt as though a hundred miniature demons were chasing him. Heart pounding, Scott continued to run until he burst free of the forest onto the other side of the tiny island. He fell onto the sand and cried. As his tears ran unchecked down his face, he felt a hand touch his shoulder. “Hey,” Scott yelled startled. Instinctively, he moved back. 4
Yeva Weist “Okay,” a voice said. “I didn’t mean to scare you, man. I just thought you needed some help or something?” the voice said in a questioning tone. Scott drew his legs close to his body. After the hot frenzy of the dance, the breeze from the ocean hit his body in a chilling blast. Goosebumps popped up along his arms and across his chest. He shivered. “Oh, man. You’re cold.” Scott could hear the man moving about. He felt the coarse weave of the canvas shirt as it fell across his back. His rescuer knelt in front of Scott. “I thought you looked cold,” he said and smiled. “Maybe that will help warm you up.” Scott looked into the most incredible dark brown eyes. The island man was deeply tanned. His smile gleamed whitely in the moonlight. Before he thought, Scott reached out to touch the hard muscular shoulder of the islander. It was well-rounded, warm. His hand slid across the shoulder and down the man’s hard muscular forearm. Scott swallowed hard, and looked in the man’s eyes. “I asked Roymata for you,” Scott said. “Well, we mustn’t disappoint the gods. Should we?” said the islander. He leaned forward and brushed the tears from Scott’s cheeks. His fingers traced the edges of 5
Coconuts Over You his face. One index finger moved over the fullness of Scott’s mouth. Scott felt incredulous. Was this the answer to his hopes and prayers? Or was it just an illusion from the wine? “Are you real?” he asked. The stranger took Scott’s hand and held it against his chest. Scott could feel the strong pulse of the islander’s heart. He continued to look into the man’s eyes. “Who are you?” he asked. “Jaunay. Come, I have a small fire hole dug into the sand.” Scott followed Jaunay farther along the beach. He allowed Jaunay to settle him in front of the fire, and then the islander cuddled Scott close against the firmness of his body.
Scott fell asleep locked in Jaunay’s arms
warmed by the heat of a small open fire. The golden canoe of dawn glided across the small inlet just beyond where Scott slept. He opened his eyes to streaks of orange and yellow light dancing across the morning. Sunrise on Ambrym Island was magnificent. The brilliant blue of the water dazzled his eyes as the sun flashed across its surface. To his right, Jaunay stood in the shadow of a huge banana tree. The leaves cast a dappled pattern across his broad brown chest. As Scott watched, Jaunay drank deeply from a coconut shell letting 6
Yeva Weist the watery milk spill out from the bottom. His eyes were closed in blissful delight at the taste of sweet milk. When he had finished drinking, Jaunay wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled. “I want some of that!” Scott said. “And I am not talking about the milk.” He leapt up and ran to the islander. As he neared Jaunay, Scott slowed and stopped to brush the sand from his body. He could feel Jaunay’s eyes on him. His breath quickened. All of a sudden, for some reason, Scott felt shy. He could not understand how he could lay in someone’s arms all night, and then feel so shy in his presence. Scott could feel heat suffuse his face.
His ears
burned. This man had seen him cry. Scott thought that Jaunay probably thought that he was a big wus.
He
suddenly realized that he could not look at the islander. Jaunay solved his dilemma.
He stepped close to
Scott, and then he tilted Scott’s chin up so that Scott had to look him in the eyes. “Hello, Scott,” he said and kissed him. Of their own volition, Scott’s arms moved around Jaunay’s waist. His hands brushed up and down the length of his back. Jaunay’s back felt warm and tight. A wisp of downy black hair covered his stomach, and it brushed against Scott’s glutes. His muscles quivered in 7
Coconuts Over You response. Jaunay’s lips felt full and tasted sweet like the milk of the coconut.
Scott could feel the islander’s
fingers tangle in his hair. He could smell the salty brine of the ocean on his skin. Jaunay pulled Scott into the sunlight and led him along the beach and into the edge of the water. Early morning waves crashed against their bodies pulling them deeper into the surf. Fiercely, Jaunay pulled Scott to him, kissing him, caressing him. The pull of the tide rocked the men into one another—alternately pushing them together and then sucking against their bodies trying to pull them apart. Jaunay’s kisses lingered against Scott’s lips. He sucked Scott’s tongue into his mouth. Scott could feel Jaunay’s tongue rubbing against his own. Cock bumped hard against cock as the water moved them in its lustful hold. Scott closed his eyes and fell into the edge of the surf pulling Jaunay on top of him.
Warm ocean waters
flooded the space between their legs, and Scott took the opportunity to slide his hand under Jaunay’s speedo. He grabbed Jaunay’s cock and held it tightly. Scott could feel his lover’s heat. The waves did nothing to dispel the intensity of his hard-on.
Instead, they seemed to
encourage Scott to stroke in rhythm with their ebb and flow. 8
Yeva Weist Jaunay pulled Scott’s swim trunks down and then off. He levered himself up on an elbow, so that he could see Scott’s face. The look of tender lust on Scott’s face was more than Jaunay could bear, and he kissed Scott over and over. He moved Scott’s hand away from his cock, and lifted his lover’s body so that he could enter him. Slowly, Jaunay moved his cock inside of Scott, until the pressure of his desire mingled with the sudden surge of the tide. As the waves crashed over them, around them, through them, Jaunay stroked the deepest part of Scott. Scott looked into the brightness of the morning sky. He held tightly to the powerful body of his island lover, until he shook with a hard surge of desire, and he came. Again and again, his body rocked against Jaunay’s as he waited for his lover to find release. When Jaunay finally let go, Scott’s body arched pulling him deeper inside, milking Jaunay until he was spent. The men lay locked together in the surf. Laughing and kissing one another. Scott had never felt so satisfied and remarkably loved. He hesitated to say the words, until Jaunay looked deep into his eyes and smiled a tiny, wistful smile. “Jaunay, I think…I think…,” said Scott, but he could not say the words. 9
Coconuts Over You “Scott, I think we should get something to eat, and then I’ll show you around my island.
How about
exploring the underwater caverns of Tukutuku? You kept talking about King Roymata in your sleep last night. Would you like to see the labyrinth of tunnels that leads from Devil’s Point to Hat Island where he was buried?” The next thing Scott knew, he and Jaunay were snorkeling through the caverns of Tukutuku.
Lava
tunnels had created the beautiful coral caverns that ran between the islands.
Scott’s flashlight beam flashed
through the clear Pacific waters and bounced across the colorful underworld revealing magical scenes. A dugong floated lazily by.
Scott swam closer to Jaunay and
clutched at his foot. Jaunay turned his head as Scott pointed at the huge tusked manatee-looking creature. He signed “okay” to Scott, but Scott continued to hang onto his island lover. Finally, they arrived on Hat Island. Jaunay pulled a weary Scott through the narrow inlet of the cavern into a sunlit opening behind a waterfall.
Streams of light
filtered through the pouring water. Tentatively, Scott stepped toward the edge of the cliff and looked down into the roaring mouth of the waterfall. deafening. 10
The noise was
Yeva Weist “Jaunay,” Scott shouted. “How do we get out of here?” “What?” yelled Jaunay.
“I can’t hear you.”
He
motioned for Scott to remove his scuba gear, and then, taking Scott by the hand, Jaunay led him through a small natural doorway in the side of the cavern. He pointed to a harrowingly steep trail that led down the backside of the falls. “Hold on tight. I’ll guide you down.” Scott held tightly to Jaunay’s warm outstretched hand. He felt safe following the burly figure of his lover. As they carefully descended the cliff”s side, Jaunay explained the legend of King Roymata’s death. “Island stories have always told that King Roymata was buried with forty-seven servants.
Many of the
servants were buried alive with him.” Scott could feel his skin beginning to crawl. “Creepy. Who would be buried with a dead person? Why would you want to?” “Hey, beats me, man. I wouldn’t want to be buried alive for anybody. I’m just telling you the legend.” They walked on until they came to a clearing surrounded by coconut trees. In the midst of the clearing was an area covered with all sorts of native gems. It was the gravesite of King Roymata. For a moment, neither 11
Coconuts Over You man spoke. Then Scott walked to the edge of the site and bowed down. “Thank you, King Roymata,” he said huskily. “Thank you for bringing me to Jaunay.” By the time the men had finished their devotion to the King, the sunlight was beginning to wane. They made their way to a small thatched lean-to. Scott helped Jaunay to dig a shallow hole through the sand and into the ground beneath. They built a small fire and watched the sun set against the horizon. From his backpack, Jaunay pulled a coconut shell cup and a small flask of Kava. He poured the muddy brown liquid into the shell and took a long drink. After he swished the liquid around in his mouth, he spat a stream of pulpy residue onto the ground. “Here, try this, Scott.” He held out the shell. “What is it?” “Kava. It will help you relax. Just drink the liquid but don’t swallow the pulp.” Scott’s facial expressions were a study in contortions. When the bitter, grimy, peppery dettol hit his tongue, he felt as though he would vomit. He had never tasted anything so vile in his entire life. Spitting a stream of Kava, he screamed, “That tastes like shit! I’ve never tasted anything so horrible.” 12
Yeva Weist Jaunay dangled a candy in front of him.
Scott
grabbed frantically at the piece of peppermint. “Hey, I know it tastes terrible, but, well, it makes you feel wonderful. Just suck on the candy after every hit. Pretty soon you’ll be feeling fine.” “Okay, but you should come over here with me. You’re much too far away,” Scott said. Jaunay moved between Scott’s legs and lay back against his chest. Draught after draught of the bitter Kava gave the men a relaxed and peaceful buzz. Scott’s tongue was numb as were his lips, but he did not care. The rest of his senses were heightened beyond anything he had ever felt. He could feel every curve of Jaunay’s muscles against his own. The musky smell of the islander’s skin invaded Scott’s nostrils and caused his mind to cling to the scent. He wanted to remember that smell forever. He turned and pulled Jaunay beneath him.
With his tongue, Scott
explored his lover’s neck. He ran his hands over the hard pectoral muscles of Jaunay’s chest and lingered to twist and taste his dark brown nipples. Scott’s mind was attune to every nuance of his lover’s breathing. Every moan spurred him on. He moved his tongue along the contours of Jaunay’s abdomen, past his navel and into the hollow of his thigh. Back and forth 13
Coconuts Over You across his thigh, Scott licked and nipped the delicate skin. As he continued his gentle assault, his hand pushed aside Jaunay’s swimsuit. He grabbed Jaunay’s cock and slid his hand over the surface—finding and stroking every vein, running his fingertips over the head, feeling that first spurt of precum as it oozed forth. Scott used the moisture to stroke his hand up and down the slickness of Jaunay’s shaft. As he bit along his lover’s thigh, Scott pulled up and down on his cock sending Jaunay closer and closer to the edge. The deep musky smell of his lover enveloped Scott, and he buried his face against Jaunay’s balls. He sucked them deeply into his mouth. As he pumped his lover’s cock, he licked and sucked his balls. Finally, Scott could stand it not longer. He moved atop his island lover and took him into his mouth. As he held fast to Jaunay’s sac, he sucked the very essence of him into his mouth. Scott lay exhausted against his lover. He looked for a long while into the whorls of the campfire. Then he stretched out under the coconut trees and fell asleep. During the middle of the night, Scott awoke to feel Jaunay staring at him. Scott reached out and touched a dark curl beside his ear. “Are you okay?” 14
Yeva Weist Jaunay did not answer at first. Finally, he asked, “What were you trying to say to me this morning?” Scott knew what he meant. For the first time, Scott had almost said the words to another man. He looked into the dark brown eyes of his island lover. Then he looked up at the towering trees. Coconuts hung precariously overhead. “Jaunay,” he said, and then a coconut snapped loose from its mooring and began to fall. “I’m coconuts over you,” he squealed and grabbed Jaunay rolling over to avoid the hairy missle. “I mean…I love you,” he said and laughed. Jaunay picked up the offending coconut and held it aloft. “I’m coconuts over you, too,” he said.
The End
15
About the Author: Yeva Wiest is one femme who loves her wife, freelance writing, traveling, and her wild little pug. She is currently working on a sexy new series. Yeva’s erotic fiction has appeared in numerous anthologies including Ultimate Lesbian Erotica 2008. Be sure to watch for her new story on CleanSheets.com, “Her Little Hand.” And don’t miss her newest novella, Apache Eyes , an erotic lesbian western. For more information about Yeva visit her myspace site, http://www.myspace.com/yevawiest or go to http://www.glee.com/Yeva_Wiest
Other available titles by Yeva Wiest: Tiny Horrors of Desire, Phaze Phaze Fantasies, Vol. III, Phaze Apache Eyes, Phaze