Eat, Pray, Love.

“Traveling—it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.”

- Ibn Batuta

17 May 2023 © Sciolistical

This is a story of Zoe, her parents Margaret and David and her husband Jude. It is a story of Zoe’s quest to find herself, find purpose in her life as she travels around the world, along with her mother, Margaret.

If you feel the story is long, then it is my fault for not having told it well.

---

Eat, Pray, Love.

I turned the key on the main door. The banging I could hear from outside turned to loud blaring music from the main living room as I walked in.

Not really surprised by Zoe, I shook my head and moved into the kitchen. I kept the couple of bags that were in my hand on the kitchen island and put my handbag down on the chair. I walked into the living room to ask her to turn the volume down a bit and to let her know I was home.

What I saw next, took me by surprise, to say the very least. Zoe, my stepdaughter, barely nineteen years old, was on her knees in front of a huge black man. The man, not a boy, must be in his thirties, was naked. Zoe had her skirt on but had no top on her. Zoe's mouth engulfed his huge black cock inside her mouth, and she seemed to be gagging on it.

The fellow had his hands behind her head and neck and was forcing her on his cock. Zoe's one hand was on his thigh and the other palm on the sofa, and it seemed she was trying to push herself up. The fellow was succeeding in keeping her latched on to his cock.

His eyes were closed and his mouth open, probably nearing his climax.

My first response was to pull Zoe back. I stepped behind her and pulled her off his cock, applying pressure on her shoulders. His eyes opened, as he tried to get a grip of what was happening and who the third party was.

Zoe uncomfortably fell back on her butt, gasping, clearly out of breath. The fellow on the sofa, with his gigantic cock was clearly frustrated and tried to get up to express his displeasure.

Before he could think of doing anything, even as he was trying to get his bulky ass up, I bent forward, swung, and slapped him hard. It was no ordinary slap. I knew from training if you are angry - slap the cheek, if you are attacking - slap the ear.

I gave him a full-hand cracker of a slap on his cheek, my full palm got his ear. Instead of getting up, his hand flew to his ear. Hurt beyond his expectation, his eardrums must be ringing like a church bell, I knew.

I remained in alert mode, should he try to respond.

I looked down at Zoe, and she was scrambling back, clearly trying to get away from the scuffle. My next thought was to check on her.

"Zoe, are you all right?" I asked her.

She was breathing better but panting. Her hands around her neck gave away what she felt.

I looked back towards the man. He had risen faster than I had assumed. Unfortunately, I had let my guard down.

He was aiming for my face, and even though I took a step back, I could not catch him moving fast enough. His big fist landed on my side, below my ribs. Surely he had broken a couple.

I winced in pain and fell. The naked man stood over me. His size seemed even bigger from the ground I was on. He growled, in a power drive.

At that exact moment, I rolled my fist and punched him in his nuts with all my strength.

"AAAAAAAHHHH," he fell in pain.

I quickly rose and pulled Zoe up. She was looking at the man in shock. He lay in a bundle writhing on the floor, deep in pain, moaning and cursing me, or possibly Zoe, "You bitch! I'll kill you."

I dragged Zoe into the other room. I pushed her inside and asked her to latch the door shut. She instantly did that, looking towards me in awe.

I returned to the fellow. The first thing I did was kick in his face and got a couple of his teeth in the process - at least one fell out on the floor. I held his large arm and held it in both my hands and twisted it behind him, and I kneed his spine. For a brief moment forgetting my own pain.

"Okay, Sir. Would you like to run like a dog from here? or should I call 999?"

He patted his other hand on the floor.

I got off from behind him and picked up the umbrella from my rack nearby. I couldn't find anything substantive enough that instant. 'This will have to do for now,' I thought.

He got up growling in pain and anger. If he had any intentions of raising a hand, he was wise to have reconsidered it and did not do anything, because the handle of my umbrella was ready for another blow on his naked blue nuts.

He tried to pick his clothes and I said, "uunh...huh."

I said, "Go out, and I shall throw them out for you."

He obliged, and I did too.

After I had locked the door behind him, I rushed up to check on Zoe.

She sat on the bed sobbing and, on seeing me, instantly rushed towards me and hugged me. She cried louder in my arms. I am not sure if she was grateful to see me fine or for saving her from the brute.

"Are you ok?" I asked her first,

"Yes. Are you hurt?" Zoe returned her question instantly. I remembered the ribs that had gone numb in pain.

I nodded but didn't answer her. I moved out to the main room again, to check through the front window whether the fellow had moved away from the house. He had, thankfully. I saw him pulling his shirt on while walking away.

We both sighed in relief.

When our breathing became normal, "Ok. Tell me who he is and why was he doing what he was doing?" I did not insinuate or presume that she was doing anything.

"I am sorry. I know him through John. He helped me with the ..... pills a couple of times." She hesitated before telling me that she took drugs.

I nodded without getting pissed or condescending.

"He told me if I suck his .... penis... he would give me a hundred g," her eyes looked down guiltily.

"Have you been doing it with him earlier as well," I asked.

She instantly responded, "No, today was my first time. Ever. I swear."

Believing an addict is difficult but if it is someone you are related to you, not so much.

I believed her, more for the reason she seemed as if she was in difficulty earlier when his dick was deep in her throat. She wasn't doing it for pleasure.

For one thing, I knew the family wasn't short of cash, nor was Zoe. So if she was doing it for free drugs, then it was just her trying to be rebellious. So the chances of this happening regularly were low.

"Zoe, I cannot always be around to defend you. So if this is indeed the first time, let it be a lesson for a lifetime. If this has happened earlier, then we need to take precautions, so tell me again."

She responded instantly. "No, Margaret. It has never happened. I was so scared." She started to sob again.

I shushed her and wrapped my hands around her, pulling her head onto my shoulder. I winced in pain. She was on the same side as my bruised rib.

"Please don't tell Dad," She requested.

I nodded. 'We will deal with it later,' I thought.

---------

My husband, David, was a surgeon. He returned home to a normal evening. Meal on the table, Zoe locked in her room. The house was orderly, as always, without any traces of a scuffle.

I chose to delay the discussion with David. It would help gain Zoe's confidence, I reckoned.

---------

For the next few days, I kept talking to Zoe multiple times a day over the phone and at home to see if she had been bothered by anyone.

As a precaution, I had taken details of the fellow from her, just in case I needed to track the asshole down.

The only outcome of his thrashing was that her supply got cut off, not only from him but his buddies as well. In fact, that turned out to be a blessing.

As it turned out, Zoe wasn't addicted. Her recreational habit was her style of getting back at his dad, and me, and possibly her mom, and maybe the world for a foul deal she had got served.

---------

Zoe had a tough childhood. Her mother was a bitch. When I say that, I mean it with complete modesty. I know it because I was her lawyer. Being a second-generation civil lawyer, I do get my share of divorce cases. I practice along with my father.

Over the tenure that Valerie was my client, I came to realize that I was dealing with a conniving character.

During her divorce from David, I felt for him sincerely. A few months after their divorce was consummated, I called upon him when my father needed surgery.

He was very polite and kind. In fact, I was looking for an excuse to check with him once the divorce proceedings were over, but could not muster the guts to reach out. Then my father's surgery turned out to be in his hospital.

At a light moment, when he was diagnosing my father, I asked him, "I hope you won't take out your angst against me on my father."

He laughed hard and showed me a scalpel in jest.

Over the next month, as my father went through pre-surgery tests, and then around the surgery itself, and after that, when he was convalescing in David's care, we grew close.

He had clearly moved past Valerie. But apparently still had issues at home.

We dated for a while and eventually got steady. A year later, he proposed. We were married in a small church ceremony.

What I had gained over time about David was that he was a very decent man, a mensch but unlucky on his family side.

At the time of their divorce, Zoe was seventeen. At the time we married, she was a few months more than nineteen. Zoe was a rebel without a cause. Angry at her mother, her father, herself, and just generally at everyone.

Zoe wasn't really a loved child; at least not when she could experience it. Surely her parents loved her when she was a toddler or younger. But then their differences picked up, taking precedence over a growing child's needs. Those differences eventually turned into mutual hostility. David started to avoid home and spent even longer hours at the hospital.

The end of their strained marriage was in fact a relief to all. It did not seem like Zoe benefitted from the arrangement.

---------

Zoe became even more spiteful of me when I married David. He had learnt to live with Zoe's contempt for himself. I did not need to take unnecessary shit and stayed out of her way as she did mine. Our pleasantries were also minimal. All my efforts got misread as patronizing. Those, too, stopped soon.

The black fellow's incident mellowed her somewhat. We started talking, but barely enough. Most of it was from my side checking on her well-being, and then she started to respond, and we shared greetings every day.

Eventually, the soft side of a girl started to show, and I did not shun her in any manner. In fact, I overlooked the past hostilities and resolved to start afresh.

---------

Zoe was aware I had taken some martial arts training. In a city like Manchester, it made sense to keep your defenses in place.

She asked me, after that incident, once, "Can you train me."

I welcomed the idea. But I encouraged her differently, "Certainly. But I am not at a trainer level. But I tell you what, let's start working out together, and I will take you through the basics I know. It will build your energy, and once you want to take it up a notch, we will enroll you in a formal trainer."

Zoe smiled approvingly. A rare smile, it made me realize what a beautiful, normal girl she was. I smiled back.

Zoe was a pretty girl with a good height of five-six, but she was so lean, it felt like she was underfed. Her face was a lovely oval, and her deep green eyes were her most distinguishing feature. Her mid-length hair was mostly messy, but now that she was clean, it looked nice. I'd have loved to ask her to let them grow longer, but I never thought she would listen.

We started working out together. I took charge of feeding her as well. I changed her diet to some good protein-rich home food along with greens. We started by running every morning. Every evening we did exercise at the home gym.

Valerie incidentally was also good at looking after her health, and she had set up a small home gym on the top floor, along with a good jacuzzi and a nice big bathroom.

David, as a top-tier surgeon, was earning very well and had very few garish habits to spend on. The house was very modern and well-decked. For a small family of three, it often felt to me like an uninhabited castle, unusually quiet. It was a good thing we were in a gated community, all the twelve houses were that of doctors, all similar.

I had convinced Zoe that before getting on to martial arts, she should build up her stamina and strength. The jog every morning, and exercise four days a week, were fantastic rejuvenation for her. In a couple of months, she looked a lot better and had put on a little weight. She had shrugged off her drug habit like a hot potato. She looked great and felt good about herself.

I never let her work out on weekends. I told her, "Girls are supposed to enjoy their weekends."

I nudged her to go meet friends, but she avoided that always. Every weekend she hung around at home. I found out that all her friends were either users or drunks. She was keen to shun their company and move ahead in life.

I changed my work schedule to ensure I was home on weekends. I found time to spend with her. She appreciated that I was going out of the way for her. We started to feel close.

I coaxed her to start college, but she was very apprehensive about that.

---------

Zoe was upset with me that I had been delaying the start of her martial arts training. I had kept it delayed for a reason. I wanted to check on her commitment first. I was satisfied.

In the spring of that year, we decided to pick up our training a notch. I have a blue armband in Muay Thai. I took charge of teaching her basics first. Muay Thai is a contact sport, and it requires a lot of commitment, physically. At thirty-six, I am not as fit as I used to be, but I could still kick an ass or two, as I had learnt a couple of months earlier.

---------

Before the incident with the black dude, I had been married to David for over a year and maybe spoken with Zoe for less than a hundred words.

A couple of months after that day, we were tight as sisters. I would have liked to believe that our bond was somewhat maternal in a way but we were covering too much distance of lost ground fast.

I discovered that despite her tough-nut persona that she tried hard to project, she was a softy at heart; despite having a cool, kickass personality, she had never gotten laid; even though she said that she hated her parents, she craved immensely for their attention.

'If only she knew what I knew about her parents,' I thought.

Of all the people, David was the happiest with the turn of events. She was well beyond showing small changes in her personality, towards her love for life.

---------

Six months later, Zoe was fit as an amateur fighter, well into her own. I wonder sometimes how little it takes for one to find strength from. Zoe had gained as much from the physical training as she did from knowing that someone in the world cared for her.

Over the last few months, our simple greetings of a good morning, good evening, and bye changed into a short hug, usually just a short sideways shoulder hug, or a hand on the arm - a soft touch worked remarkably in bringing us closer.

From the time we started to train together, I had increased the hugs. I hugged Zoe many times a day - while greeting her in the morning, afternoon, or evening, welcoming her back from her room, rewarding her for an accomplishment during a jog, during a workout, after a workout, and such.

My objective was to make her feel important, feel loved, and I had somewhat succeeded in that. The reason I felt so because eventually, I got Zoe hugging David as well. The bond among us was growing.

Before we started training for Muay Thai, we would work out together and often change in front of each other. When we trained there was a lot of contact between us. I ensured that she was comfortable with that.

On her twentieth birthday, I gifted her a packet of three dildos. All modest sizes. Zoe gushed and was embarrassed to even say thanks to me.

I laughed it off and told her, "Tell me later which of them makes you happiest."

Later that evening, all three of us went out for dinner to a fancy restaurant and we thoroughly enjoyed our evening out.

It was there, at the restaurant, that David and I gave her the formal gift. David handed her keys to her new car - a fancy Land Rover. David had organized for the car to be parked beforehand at the restaurant.

The momentary argument between me and David, if she should have a sports coupe or a sturdier land rover was not much of an argument, to be honest.

Zoe felt genuinely surprised and thanked David and me for the car. Later that night, before going to sleep, Zoe gave me a slight nod, signaling for me to come see her in her room.

I changed out of my dress, got into a nightie, and pulled a gown over. "I'll join you in a bit," I told David and went to see Zoe.

I had no idea what she wanted. I knocked on her door once, as I usually did before entering. It was just a heads-up kind of thing.

Zoe looked happy and giddy. She smiled when she saw me and opened her arms for me to get in.

I joined her on the bed and hugged her. She kissed my cheeks and thanked me. "Margaret, thank you for everything. Everything," she emphasized.

I knew what she meant, but instead of replying, I just hugged her tight.

After a deep long hug, she said, "You know, compared to the car, your gift seems better." I pulled back from her hug and looked at her face, giving her a cheeky smile. She blushed.

"I have to ask you something. Please say no, if you feel uncomfortable." She asked me hesitantly.

"Anything, Zoe. What is it?" I asked, concerned.

"Can I call you Mom?" she looked down as she said that.

I was so overwhelmed by the way she said it that I hugged her tight. We both didn't say anything for a long while. Both of us had misty eyes, and when I did pull back, I looked at her in the face, and kissed both her cheeks and then her forehead, telling her, "I shall be most delighted if you call me Mom."

We hugged again. She said, politely, "Thank you."

This was a young vulnerable girl who got won over by compassion, caring, and love. I was just working my way up to her heart, and she seemed to have won mine.

I had come to realize over time, Zoe was chattier than I had known her to be earlier. We talked about various things all the time, messaged during the day, and we were always talking over dinner as well.

Breaking a long silence, I asked her, "Wanna give one a try?"

We both burst out laughing and bounced on the bed and fished out the box from the drawer next to her bed.

Giggling, she took each one out in her hand, astonished at their sizes, and their functions.

The dildos were of fine build quality and came in nice packaging. Zoe chose first, and from the remaining two, I picked one. We cleaned them with wipes before dousing them in lots of goop.

Zoe shucked her panties first. Her slip-top was too tiny to reach her pussymound anyway.

I opened my nightgown and pulled up my nightie. Then I dragged my panties off.

Not the first time we had seen each other naked. We were now accustomed to seeing each other without clothes. Usually changing, or entering our respective showers, mostly after we had trained together.

Prodding Zoe to go on, I switched on mine, which had a vibration feature. I slowly rubbed it on my pussy and looked toward her.

I left mine on vibration mode and let it stimulate my pussylips. Zoe had picked one that would penetrate and pump inside her pussy.

I saw her open her small, tender, tight pussylips and let the dildo enter. The pink of her lips opened up as the dildo went in. Her mouth opened in bliss as the dildo gained inside her.

I decided it was time for my friend to go in as well. I let it stay on vibrate, and let it slide inside. It had been a while since I had a dildo make love to me. A welcome change, I thought.

Not needing any instructions, Zoe was a couple of paces ahead of me. She had started pushing hers in and out without letting it settle in. She was excited, and it showed with her urgency.

I let mine stay in and let it vibrate me to la-la land. I kept glancing intermittently toward sweet and sexy Zoe. My arm extended towards her, and she opened hers to hold my hand.

After a few pumps with her hand, she paused and then flicked hers into thrusting action. And instantly, her mouth opened in a huge gasp.

In no time, Zoe and I started to moan, and our cries of pleasure overshadowed the low whirring of the dildos inside us. For a first-timer on a dildo, she seemed to be managing hers very well.

"MMMMM....mmmm...MMMMM....mmmm...MMMMM....mmmm." We were in tandem.

When Zoe exclaimed her climax, she shut her eyes tight and let out a sharp cry, "AAAAANGGHHH." Followed it with an "HHHMMMHHHHH."

It took me a while longer, but my moans were somewhat lower in decibels than Zoe's. "aannnghhhngghhh."

Flicking them off, We both let the dildos stay in until both of us had settled down. After catching my breath, I embraced her, and we lay in each other's arms for a while, letting the dildos stay in, motor off, more for effect than anything. The dead machines were still a delight to have inside until we had climbed down from our climaxes.

Eventually, we both simultaneously giggled out loud at our naughty behavior.

Before slipping off from her bed, I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She bent forward and kissed me on my lips, a peck. I didn't resist.

---------

At the breakfast table, with a joyous greeting, Zoe wished me, "Good morning, Mom."

Without a surprise, I wished her, "Good morning, Zoe." I moved a step closer, and she hugged me around my shoulder, as my hands were busy with a couple of plates.

David noticed with a raised eyebrow when he heard Zoe address me as Mom. He did not express any surprise. He would choose a moment alone to tell me that he was very glad that Zoe was finding herself close and comfortable with me, and him. I told him about the previous night and her asking for my permission to call me Mom, skipping details about our dildo session. The fact that she had herself called for this only enthused us both - to David, way more than anything. As her father, he felt tremendously relieved.

---------

Days passed by, and then weeks, we started to grow close. Zoe was now not only like my daughter, but our bond was getting stronger as her best friend too. Had it been my choice, I would have considered asking her to treat me like an elder sister, but being her Mom was growing on me. I was loving it.

What worried me was her future. She was now very fit, conscious of herself but she lacked purpose. What was heartening was that she was off drugs or foul friends.

Career-wise, she could not have hung out with her dad at the hospital or with me at my law offices, both professions were quite individualistic, not businesses where she could help out or learn.

---------

I decided to take things in a different direction.

Before talking to Zoe about it, I thought it would be best if I spoke with David first.

"But that would be a major time investment on your part as well. It would stall your career." David asked, surprised.

"And? So it might. But there is nothing more important to me, to us, than Zoe, Isn't it?" I shrugged.

"But I am surprised that you are even considering this. There are surely other ways for her to find a purpose in life." David said without real commitment. He did not have an answer, he was just poking into my idea.

"I am sure, David, there are other ways. I for sure believe she will find her own purpose, her own calling, in due course. It is your, and my, responsibility to help her find that." I responded emphatically, adding weight to 'and my', "I am just offering to do what I think might help."

Then I added, "Look at how she has shunned her weak side with a mere positive attitude and a little bit of help from us."

"from you actually, Margaret, from you. I had failed to achieve a fraction of what you have been able to do with your care and your love for her." He was already hugely appreciative of me and for what I was offering to do now. He felt that I was over-extending myself. I felt I was doing the bare minimum.

"For a moment, I think we should stop thinking about ourselves and concentrate on Zoe. If you have no problem, and if you don't have anything better to offer, then this is what I suggest we do, of course, she would also have to agree first." I said, pressing home. Then I added, "I have made up my mind, but I'd be happy if you want us to sleep over it for a couple of days before we talk to her."

David was not dejected, not in the slightest. He was positive that what I was saying would be wonderful for Zoe, and for us as a family, but at that moment his concern was more for me than Zoe. I knew it. That's why I felt it necessary to put my foot down.

I raised the subject again a week later, "What do you think? Can I talk to her on the weekend?"

David nodded. He was still having the same concerns, but he knew I was strong-headed too.

---------

"WHAT?" Zoe exclaimed as she asked me.

I nodded. I think it would be great for us to see the world, travel for a few months, do some training, and take our time, spend it together.

To say that she was excited would be an understatement.

I detailed my thoughts to Zoe. "I am saying consider this as your gap year. I will take you around the world. We shall start with Spain, go to Italy, then decide from thereon. But we will certainly go to China. We will do some advanced training there and stay as long as it takes to get you a Blue armband. Maybe I will get a Purple!" I made light of the fact.

She looked at me with her mouth open. Not really fully able to absorb it all.

"Personally, I believe this will be a great experience for you, and I get to take a free ride along with you," I smirked.

She knew I was joking.

Her questions about my career were just like her father's. How could I?

"Listen, Zoe. Nothing is more important to David and me than you. Now if you are going to go on a world tour, would it be with your Dad?" I smiled.

She knew I was still trying to lighten the mood. She was excited and tense.

"But you will give up your career for me?" She didn't bother answering my pointless question and asked hers.

"In a heartbeat, darling. In a heartbeat. I know the value of having you and David in my life. I love you both, and if this means my being able to spend more time with you, hell, I am all in. Plus, this wouldn't be like giving up, it'd be like a sabbatical."

She hugged me and did not leave me for a good five minutes. When did she start sobbing, and when did she stop, I couldn't say.

I told her, "But I have a condition." Looking into her eyes, "Please promise me, as soon as we are back, you will join college." She nodded, unable to answer in her choked throat.

I kissed her cheek, and I told her, "Let's start planning."

She didn't leave me from her hug and planted countless kisses all over my face. Then parking her head on my shoulder again.

We spent the next month planning, sorting my affairs, and getting ready for the adventure. I handed most of my cases to my dad, who, fortunately, was willing to absorb my workload.

If Zoe was excited earlier, over the next couple of weeks, she was thrilled. By the time we were in our travel week, she was exuberant.

When I saw her packing, days before we were to leave, I think I shocked her. One look at her packing and I threw out virtually everything she had been stuffing in. If her idea of this trip was going on a vacation, she was going to be disappointed. My objective was for her to see the world, and learn from it.

I prevailed over her, "You can carry anything that you can haul on your shoulders." We both finally nailed it down on two large backpacks, which sat on a lightweight, sturdy ergo-dynamic frame. The bags weighed twenty-three kilos each, and then we shoved in a dildo, each. Our two handbags were duffle bags that contained some precious items like some electronics, etc, along with some gear.

On our last night in England, I made love to David a final time before kissing him goodbye early in the morning for our flight from Manchester to Madrid.

Day 1

On our flight to Madrid, I asked, "How do you feel?"

The response she gave was surprising, "Liberated!"

I was somewhat surprised. Here was a young girl, beautiful, from a very nice family. For her family's petty troubles, none of which were her fault, she was throwing her life away recently. All it took was some time, and genuine love and care, and she is already a positive, optimistic girl. I was so proud of her.

I asked her, "This is going to be one heck of a trip for us. It is going to be arduous, long, and at times, lonely. You might feel homesick and despondent every once in a while. All we have is us. You have me, and I have you."

I held her hand in mine. I looked into her eyes, "I say we take this trip, to be honest with each other. About everything and anything. You will find that it will free your mind and soul from baggage. I am here for you, always, forever."

She nodded emphatically. We held hands for the rest of the flight.

Madrid is a wonderful city with a lot of history. Wonderful galleries, museums, and fantastic nightlife, and is considered fairly safe for tourists.

The first couple of destinations on our itinerary had been pre-booked - Madrid, for six days, and then Malaga. We would also meet an old college colleague from Spain, now settled in Madrid. She used to study in England with me.

We had booked an apartment in Chinchón, not very far out of the city. Madrid is a city of suburbs and autonomous communities, so the choice to stay in one seemed obvious. It had a lot of history and great places to see.

For the first three days, we did very little. We started each day with a lazy morning breakfast and skipped lunch to catch the city vibes. Each day we would head in a different direction and see some sites. Each evening, we would have an early dinner and head back to the apartment.

On our fourth day, a weekend, we caught up with Elena, my college friend. She had invited us for dinner at a club.

As soon as she saw me, she shouted, "Chica!"

I excitedly raised my arms seeing her, and opened them to have her in my arms.

Without bothering about formalities, an old habit with Elena, she took my head in her hands and kissed me straight on the lips. Not a tongue kiss, but a warm kiss on the lips.

"Oh, Elena. How I have missed you so." I exclaimed with her face next to mine.

"Me too, novia. me too," she said to my face.

Elena and I were in the same lectures, and she was in my study group. When she was new to London, I helped her where possible. We became good friends soon.

"Elena, I want you to meet my daughter, Zoe." I introduced Zoe to Elena.

Without any question, Elena took Zoe in her arms and kissed both cheeks emphatically, as if she was meeting Zoe after many days.

There was a fantastic young vibe to the place, and it was crowded.

"So, Zoe, I hear your Mama has planned a big long vacation for you, eh?"

Zoe laughed. "Yes, she has. It was my birthday gift."

"mmm," Elena hummed in appreciation. "So you have left your boyfriend behind?" She commented, more than asked.

"Oh No. I don't have a boyfriend." Zoe replied.

"What!" Elena remarked in exclaim, "I always knew British boys were uptight. But to not scramble all over for you, they are plain idiots."

"Well, in their defense, who says they aren't," Zoe replied smiling. Now, this is the girl I loved.

"yeah, chica!" Elena replied, also happy with Zoe's response.

There were at least four guys who came by our table, to ask us to dance, and each one was curtly declined.

Finally, Elena dragged me to the dance floor. I pulled Zoe along with me.

An hour later, Elena, Zoe, and I chose to get out of the club and headed to a bar-cum-restaurant nearby. Elena had reserved it for us, and we got our table without waiting.

Having drunk very little, we chose to dig into a nice Spanish meal.

Over dinner, Elena and I exchanged updates and discussed old stories of college, some random incidents that made us laugh. Both of us ensured Zoe never felt out of place.

We had fun for another hour, and it was time to head back.

During dinner, Elena invited us, "My husband's going to a football game tomorrow with his friends. I want to take you both to the best Flamenco dance tomorrow, and then we will have dinner and a party."

Not that we had another plan, we shrugged, "Sure," I confirmed, seeing Zoe had no objection.

Once outside the restaurant, we walked towards the nearby river and talked some more. We stopped at a Churros stall Elena recommended and ate some nice, hot churros.

I took a call from David on my mobile and updated him about what we were doing and where. Elena and Zoe talked, sitting on a bench next to the stall.

We hugged Elena good night and confirmed that we would meet her the next day. As was her style, she kissed me on the lips and then kissed Zoe on both her cheeks.

On the way back to our rental, Zoe said, "She is nice."

"Elena? Yes, she is great. We were good friends in college. We haven't stayed in touch much." I replied.

"You two seem close," Zoe commented, noticing the hugging and kissing.

"Ah, it's nothing. It's Elena's way of teasing me." I replied. Thinking back, I remember it was her who had got me comfortable getting kissed on the lips by a girl or kissing one. Well, it was only her, actually.

Zoe smiled back, and I added, "I was very .....what should I say.....conventional back in college. Elena was a cool, chilled-out girl. I loved being around her. She made me appear nicer too. She attracted lots of attention."

"Don't tell me you did not," Zoe balked.

"Well, I did get my share of idiots chasing me. But nobody I liked enough." Telling her only the minimum.

Back at the apartment, we crashed instantly after undressing. Neither of us bothered to take off the bra and panties or change into a nightie.

The next day was more or less the same. Zoe and I lazed at the apartment and got out in the afternoon for a museum tour.

We were tired of walking after covering a couple of museums. Maybe we should have used a couple of segways when we had seen some with other tourists around us.

For lunch, we had seafood Paella at a decent joint and started back for the apartment.

Later that evening, we met Elena at a designated spot. She quizzed us about our day, and we told her.

Elena said, "Oh. I should have thought of it earlier. But let me take you to the best Paella place in all of Madrid. You will love it."

Zoe and I shrugged. More paella for us.

Elena said, "We still have time." She rushed us in a taxi to Marina Ventura. It turned out to be a great restaurant and served us the best Paella indeed.

We had to dash. We reached the bar where the Flamenco dance was scheduled. The bar had a nice cozy setting, surprisingly a smallish joint for no more than forty persons.

Boy, oh, boy. It was an experience of a lifetime. The flamenco dancer was a super hot lady. Her dance form was highly expressive. She danced solo, and her ensemble included two musicians. Her routine was an animated synchronized hand clapping with a lot of leg movement and foot tapping, all of it seemed spontaneous dance and very little choreography. Her expert percussive foot tapping, along with intricate hand, arm, and body movements was electrifying and seductive at the same time. The top of the dancer's bouncing ample breasts tantalizingly sat on the brim of her blazing red dress, teasingly close to slipping out from above but never did. The guitarist played passionately, stroking the right notes. The fellow on the Cajon clap box seemed to know very well when to raise the tempo.

By the time her routine ended, the dancer was sweating, her chest heaving, and her breasts teasingly close to bursting out. Besides it being an amazing art form, one can feel the heat inside building up when witnessing it from up close - at least I could certainly say that for myself, as I am sure were the other guests at some other tables.

Each one of us stood up and clapped as loud as we could, shouting, "Bravo" and "Fantastic".

The dancer and her two musicians bowed in front of the guests, delighted to see the audience satisfied and appreciative.

Elena forced me and Zoe to her house, which wasn't very far away. She compelled us to stay over.

Zoe got offered the guest bedroom, and Elena tugged on my hand to draw me into her room. Her husband was still missing.

My sensually-charged mind could not muster the courage to deny her. Upon reaching the far side of the bed, Elena kicked her sandals off and reached behind her to untie her dress. In her bra and panties, she looked towards me and smiled.

My dress was only a tad bit more complicated and took much longer to come off because my eyes remained on Elena, and my hands refused to function with the same alacrity. Elena stepped forward to help.

I kept looking into Elena's eyes as she pulled my dress off. Then she went ahead and helped me out of my bra. For the sake of clearing the air on what was to come, she bent forward. Her lips landed on mine just as they had earlier a couple of times during the two days, but the intent of this kiss was different. Something I knew all too well from experience.

Elena kissed me full on my lips. She started to suck my lips after spending many seconds licking them wet. The passion was clear, but she wasn't rushed. Her hands followed through behind my neck and shoulders to pull me. I responded.

After playing with my lips, Elena started to dive in. I mewed. She went in with her tongue and played around inside my mouth.

Her hands behind me were pulling me into her, and mine behind her tried to unclasp her bra. In the hustle, I was able to flick open her bra. I raised my hands to get it off her shoulders - our lips parted briefly.

Elena took it as a sign of my intent to move on. She held my hand in hers and tugged me to the bed. She took her panties off before sitting on the edge of the bed, and we turned towards each other again to glue our lips back.

Between the two of us, the only piece of cloth that remained was covering my pussy and my butt. After a flurry of long, wet kisses, Elena sat back on her knees and bent forward to pull my panties down. I merely complied silently with whatever Elena was doing and raised my hips.

Once Elena had me as naked as herself, she leaned back and parked her palms on the bed behind her. Admiring my nakedness in the low yellow light of the bedside lamp she looked up into my eyes before pulling herself far up on the bed. When she had reached the headrest, Elena arched on the pillows leaving ample space for me. Once she had placed herself where she wanted, her right arm lifted inviting me to join her.

Aware of what was expected of me, I reached out with my left hand to hold her right. I climbed up on the bed and walked on my knees next to Elena. I reclined next to her, facing my friend, the only woman I had ever slept with.

Once I was in bed with her, Elena opened her arms completely, and I sank into her, full length. A few moves later, we were in a full-frontal embrace with our bellies and lips pasted, our breasts mashing into one another, and our legs entwined to have our pussies and mounds touching.

Our lips opened slightly for a long lover's kiss with slow tonguing. We were tired and beat from the entire day of sightseeing and aroused from the magical flamenco performance.

The scissored thighs ensured our pussies were communicating with the same passion as our lips and hands. The long break after which the two sets of pussylips had met was evident in their rush to pulse and cream.

Our heaving and bucking did not let the tonguing session last long, and we allowed our pussies to do the rest. We rubbed against each other, our pussies ground against each other, our clits dueled against each other, and the result was an emphatic and simultaneous climax.

Elena, as usual, was louder and more vocal than me, "mmmuuuuaaa....aaaaa...hhhhh...".

Amused by how much Elena could draw from me, I came with a big climax of my own and gave lower grunts than her, "hhhhuuuunnnh..hhhhuuuunnnh.."

Both of us slept in each other's arms. Our sleep remained scattered. When both of us got up in the morning, in each other's arms, our heads were heavy, and we were drifty.

I remembered the days I had spent with Elena back in England, studying together. It was Elena, who had shown me how to love a woman, without inhibition. She was no lesbian, and neither was I. Other than Elena, I had never made out with another woman, forget about making love to one. Not that I was looking.

Zoe had the guest room. I wondered if she could hear us make love that night. Elena hadn't helped in keeping it low.

Elena's husband was home late. He must already have read the text Elena had sent her. If not, he must have seen the slip outside their bedroom door, telling him to find someplace else to sleep, and that must not be the guest room that Zoe had occupied. He took the extra bedroom on the upper floor of their large house.

We had an awkward meeting with the sweet gentleman. Elena's husband had possibly seen a picture or two of mine with Elena but had no recollection of my name.

He seemed puzzled when Elena introduced Zoe as my daughter, given that I was introduced as someone Elena attended college with. They were yet to plan a family, and here I was, mother of a twenty-year-old.

Elena's husband was a nice fellow, successful in his career, as was she. He was cool even though we hung out until the afternoon and stayed back for lunch.

Zoe wore Elena's small cotton shorts along with a large T-shirt of Elena's husband on top. I had taken Elena's clothes for a short while.

Elena asked, "So you girls are 'Eat, Pray, Love' inspired." More of a comment than a question.

"Well, the circumstances are different. I want to be closer to my daughter and show her the world. If she can eat, pray, and find love, then that would be a handsome bargain."

I put my arm on Zoe's shoulder, proudly sitting on the chair next to mine. She smiled back.

"When were you last in China? That was ten years ago?" Elena said.

"Yeah. eight years. But that was different." I responded hastily. Wanting to change the subject, I asked Elena's husband about his business.

Being a Sunday, we spent until late afternoon hanging out with Elena and her husband and left for our apartment after three.

We spent a good couple of hours cleaning, washing, and drying because we had a train the next morning, for Malaga.

Zoe was excited to get to the beach, as was I.

Day 7

We left early in the morning, taking the train. The three-hour journey went by quickly. I picked up a book to read, and Zoe lay down with her head in my lap.

Malaga has a small but busy station. We hailed a cab for the house we had rented.

When we reached the rental, we were giddy with delight. The small house was a two-story bungalow with three rooms and a dining room. I think we may have over-booked in our excitement. But at the time of the booking, it looked cheap.

Anyhow, we had a good ten days on our hands and lots of beach and sun to soak in. We settled in and looked for a grocery store nearby, to stock up for the next few days.

Our routine for the next ten days was a simple luxury - laziness, reading, and sleep. Each morning we got up early and took a five-minute walk to the beach. Both of us jogged for half an hour and did some stretching. After that, we went back to the apartment, and after showers and breakfast, we lazed at the house for a few hours before going back to the beach around four. Then we returned only around sunset and cooked dinner. Then we laid down for some reading, browsing, TV, or phone call to David.

For most of the ten nights, we barely changed our routine, except a few times going out for dinner to catch some good local seafood. We skipped lunch for a couple of days and enjoyed a lot of fresh fruits and salads.

Malaga is a town full of beaches spread over many miles. We were near La Rada, Estepona. We chose it because it has the prettiest beach in Malaga. But our trip would have been incomplete had we not spent a day at Nikki beach.

None of the beaches in Malaga frowned upon nudity. The one next to our rental, La Rada, had plenty of topless girls, as did Nikki Beach. Neither Zoe nor I tried to get our nipples tanned.

Each evening, we snacked at the Tapas bars at the shacks on the beach. Large random groups partied until late every night, usually around one or the other flickering bonfire, with skewered sardines charring in the aromatic flames.

The house we had rented was much larger than we needed, and after the third night, Zoe started to sleep with me and, after the fifth night, in my arms. We were growing comfortable around each other, and she liked to snuggle into me. I just loved the idea that she felt comfortable in my arms.

After a week in Malaga, we spent some time planning our next stop. Each evening we had a round of discussion, researched a little, and then modified the itinerary. We were heading for Italy but could not decide which part until our penultimate day at Malaga.

We finally settled for Tuscany. The other decision that we agreed upon was to drive. We hired a car and postponed our plan to leave the next morning. We spent an extra night in Malaga. If the purpose of driving was on the Mediterranean coast and the Riviera was to enjoy the beauty of the landscape en route, we chose a convertible for the leg, on our landlord's advice.

Day 17

The route would take us through Valencia, Barcelona, Nimes, Nice, Genoa, and then on to our destination, a village in Tuscany - Cortona.

The coastline, and especially the drive, along the Mediterranean, is considered the most beautiful, compared to some of the best around the world.

We had to drive for four days. Our first stop was for a late brunch at Valencia, and then we restarted for a long haul until Barcelona. We ate dinner at a local diner run by a Spanish lady and rested for an hour and a half. Despite being tempted to stay overnight and see a few heritage sites, we were keen to avoid the hustle-bustle of Barcelona. We did not stop until we were in a small town called Girona, and by then, it was half past midnight.

We hired a room for the night in Girona, and that was the first time on our trip we hired a single room with a double bed, finding it pointless to spend money on two rooms when we were going to stay only for just the night.

Both of us were tired. In the morning, I woke up groggy and snuggled up with Zoe. I slumped back into bed and pulled her in with me, and we lazed for a while longer.

After a Criossant and coffee to start our day, we hit the road again around noon and stopped for lunch as we entered France. Our first stop for the afternoon was Montpellier. A nice serving of crepes and pastries later, Zoe took the wheel as I took a short nap. When she figured we were not far from Cannes and Nice, she slowed down to enjoy the sunset on the drive. Zoe eventually stopped in a tiny village of Brignoles for coffee.

We cruised the French Riviera and soaked in the luxury and opulence of Cannes and Nice. As we drove through the twin cities, we soaked in the charm of glitz and glamour, or perhaps as much as was possible from the road. We kept driving until the sun had set and drove around the blocks a couple of times to see the evening lights take over Nice. We chose to stay the night after we had crossed out towards the east of Nice towards Monaco. We found a nice hotel Les Terrasses d'Eze that overlooked the Mediterranean from its vantage. The property was full of tourists who were driving like us. We enjoyed some fantastic wine, ate little, and were dead to the world for the next ten hours in our room.

Thankfully we both woke up fresh, enjoyed the magnificent view from our hotel, had a sumptuous breakfast, and started back on our road trip. Our next stop was in Italy, though we took a short detour and got down to the magnificent beachfront and ate pizza at Sanremo. The artisan pizza was juicy in flavor and delicious. The young owner of the pizzeria was very hospitable and kind. He took a shine to Zoe and flirted sweetly with her for the entire hour or so that we were there. He insisted on not charging us as soon as he came to know that we were traveling to Tuscany.

Incidentally, his mother was also from Tuscany. Very kindly, he insisted, we wait until he called his mother from their home nearby in the village.

The nice lady was delighted to see two British women choosing to spend time in Tuscany for some reason. She welcomed us and told us places to look for, and ones to avoid, and importantly, gave us her family's contact, just in case we needed anything.

She insisted we tell her where we were staying, and I gave her the details, given how persistent she was. I guessed there was no harm.

We bid them goodbye and moved ahead, feeling energized. We covered a good distance over the afternoon and evening.

In the car, I teased Zoe, "I think Santino liked you."

"Oh, C'mon. Mum, it isn't like that. You know it." She brushed me aside.

"Well, I think he did. I even think you would not have objected had we taken an overnight stay in Sanremo."

I saw Zoe faintly blush but did not bite. It was all in passing.

We reached Genoa late in the night. We took another detour against the plan. Instead of bypassing the main city, we moved toward town. We stopped in a suburban area called Pegli, west of Genoa, and pulled up in the main Piazza Lido. We settled into a nice smallish bed and breakfast run by a couple.

Most of the town seemed closed, being a Sunday, and the owner couple welcomed us warmly. We showered and rested for a bit. Both of us were hungry, and the owner guided us to a nearby restaurant called Old Monteleone.

We had reached the restaurant, a five-minute walk away, and found the restaurant's owner waiting for us outside, having received a call from our b&b.

The restaurant host was a nice bloke who pushed us to order what he felt we would like. While we waited for our main course, we were served antipasti - fresh squid and anchovies. The Linguine pasta was fantastic, and we indeed enjoyed their local favorite, Pansoti with walnut sauce.

The few guests in the restaurant were all local families. Slow music played in the background, the barman seemed to be somewhat of a musician. Intermittently he would pick up on his humming and belt a lilting verse before getting back to humming and serving. Amazing ambiance.

Zoe exclaimed, in appreciation of the food, "OMG, Mum, this is the best Italian food I have had. Nothing beats this from back home."

I smiled. I, too, liked the food. The local feel of the place made a difference as well. We sat there for a long, relaxed dinner. We had ordered a glass of Italian wine each but left half of it.

Back in the room, we both lay in bed. Zoe was in my arm, her head near my shoulder, and her leg on my thigh. Her arm lay across me, just under my breasts. We weren't sleepy for some reason, and I asked her, "Are you enjoying the trip so far?"

"Oh, Mum, I love it. I think this is the best thing that has happened. Thank you."

I was proud. My hand caressed outside on her arm, and I looked at the ceiling.

"I love you," She said. I looked down towards her, in my arm and kissed her forehead, and said, "I love you too, Zoe."

Then I turned, facing her. She was a few inches lower than me as she lay on my arm. I flung my other hand behind her as well and pulled her in.

She snuggled into my chest and held me like that, her hand behind my back. I caressed her head until we slept like that.

In the middle of the night, I realized my breast was getting stimulated. I opened my eyes to see Zoe still deep into my chest. I couldn't see her face, but her mouth was latched onto my breast. Her mouth was suckling on my nipple as if she was drinking from it.

I think, at that moment it was a maternal impulse in me that told me not to shake her off. I put my hand under her head and kept her pasted on my nipple, enabling her to keep on sucking. The up-and-forward pull with my hand behind her head gave her even better access.

What seemed like an involuntary adjustment for the both of us was in fact pulling each other further together, acknowledging the act, and allowing it.

I woke up early the next morning and noticed Zoe was off from my bare breast and was sleeping calmly with her lips open, inches away from my nipple. My spontaneous reaction was to caress her cheek with my knuckles lovingly, and then push my nipple back into her mouth.

Not fully awake yet, when she realized the nipple had returned to her mouth, her lips caught on again. She naturally started suckling for a few moments and then stopped, staying on the nipple.

I enjoyed the sensation and, even more importantly, the emotion. I stirred a little, and as soon as I did that, on impulse, Zoe started suckling again in her sleep, only to stop a few seconds later.

I played with her a few times, stirring and shaking to see her response every time. I smiled at myself and her. Overcome with love for her, I pulled her head into my breast, squeezing, almost waking her up. She stirred but stayed in my chest.

I stayed like that for a while, waiting for her to get up on her own. My thoughts veered to my life choices and questioned how I reached where I had. One question that consumed a lot of my mind-space was my strong feelings toward Zoe. From the incident with the black dude, where I had acted on impulse, and then the whole of last year as we grew close; my offering this trip, pausing my career, letting her take liberties now.

In similar introspective sessions, I surmised my instincts with Zoe were becoming maternal. I liked that idea. When she started calling me Mom, and then Mum, there was a sense of warmth that rose up inside my chest. I loved getting called Mum.

Now I mulled, whether my feelings towards Zoe were sexual. I did not feel aroused or horny in her company. I rationalized it was deeper, the bedrock of which was love - most certainly.

Just then, I felt Zoe stir, and after a couple of instinctive drags at my nipple, she lifted her head and looked up into my face. I was looking down at her.

I bent and kissed her forehead and said, "Good morning," with the broadest smile I could offer before she could open her mouth to apologize. It basically meant I was okay with what had happened.

She looked into my eyes and said, "Good morning, Mum." She, too, had started to realize I liked being called Mum. I had never told her that, but she naturally gravitated to calling me that.

We restarted on the road to Tuscany after breakfast in the cafe next door, also owned by the owners of our b&b - Antipasto, focaccia, eggs, and coffee. A sumptuous breakfast, indeed. The town looked up a lot more in the morning against the desolate look it had adorned the night before.

We had hoped to reach Tuscany by afternoon, but we were slower than we expected, and we stopped for lunch at a small town in Sarzana, east of Spezia. The hand-tossed Pizza we had, made in a wood oven, was delicious. We had coffee after and restarted on an idyllic countryside drive from Sarzana to Lucca. The weather was nice, a beachy breeze coursed through our hair. It was a smart choice to have agreed with our Malaga landlord's advice to drive a convertible if we were going along the Mediterranean coast. The trip would not have been the same in a conventional sedan.

Day 21

We reached Cortona, in Tuscany at around nine at night, and it did not take us long to find the house we had rented.

One of the first things we did was take a nice long hot shower to get fresh and clean up.

Feeling refreshed, we decided to go into town and find something to eat. Enough with the car, we walked to the small village near our house and found a local food restaurant. It looked like a pizzeria but had no signboard though.

As soon as we entered the small group of fifteen guests on various tables stared at us. Most of them smiled, realizing that we were tourists.

As our trip progressed, the food kept getting better with each new place we were going to in Italy. We ordered Fettuccine alfredo and Agli o'lio and loved the food. We complimented the chef and the host. We walked back to our rented house.

We had to rent the place for a month because the owner did not know the concept of a nightly or weekly stay. It did not bother us because we still had to plan for the next leg, plus the rent was small, so a month did not seem off. Also, we had intended to go on excursions from there and see all of Tuscany. We also had the car at our disposal.

We walked back a mile under bright twinkly stars, hand in hand, relishing the nice weather, loving company, and walking for a change, having driven for the last few days for over two thousand kilometers.

On the way back, Zoe asked, "Can we use the dildo tonight?"

"hell, yeah." I pulled her from the shoulder and smiled. I said, "I was wondering why we haven't already."

Less than an hour later, we jumped into the bed, having removed our clothes and a dildo each in our hands.

With the goop applied, the dildos were ready to fire. I chose to take it slowly and rub myself first. Though not new to masturbating, Zoe followed my lead and fingered herself before going after her dildo.

With both of us sitting on the bed with our backs to the headrest, looking ahead, and rubbing ourselves, it was only a matter of time before the anxiety would build up.

Zoe started moaning before I could, and soon the room was humming with low moans of excitement, "mmmm," "hmmm," "mmmm,"

I decided it was time for my dildo to take over. I guess she was waiting for me to lead. We both picked our trusted friends and moved them near our quims.

The familiar move was to shove it slowly in and let it settle in, and allow the pussy to acclimatize to the penetrating friend. Mine went in at a speed of an inch every couple of seconds, Zoe's was a bit faster. The effect of both, very much the same.

We shut our eyes and thanked the inventor of these artificial role players of men.

Over time I had learnt to enjoy the dildo, even without the mechanical feature activated. I would let it stay in and play with it with my pussy, which I would squeeze and release, get it to throb and pulse, just soft fun until the motor ups the game.

I was in the middle of squeezing and releasing my pussy around my dildo when I looked toward Zoe. She, too, had a passive dildo deep inside her, to the hilt.

In the next instant electric moment, Zoe leaped towards me and pulled my head into her hands.

Her kiss on my lips was abrupt. I let her rush at first and have her way. I responded slowly and helped her settle down.

We kissed long, sensual, and passionate kisses into each other's mouths. Her tongue stayed in my mouth longer than mine in hers. Her passion was apparent, she was more aroused than I was.

I played along and let her kiss me deeply and intensely. Her hands explored my head and my shoulders, and then my back. My hands held her head steadily, and I laid long loving kisses into her mouth.

Over the next few minutes, as we made out, the heat in our pussies grew. Zoe decided to compliment the making out with a change in the tempo down below. She flicked her dildo in one go to level-two, and the pump motion started thrusting deep inside her. If I caught any of it, it was because of a small fraction of jerks I felt through her mouth attached to mine, 'thud..thud..thud..thud.'

The urgency of her kisses slowed as the pleasures deep in her pussy took precedence against what she was getting in her mouth from me.

Following her, I snaked my hand towards my dildo and switched it on, and got a wave of pleasure travel from my pussy right up to my brain.

Both of us were purring, moaning, and within seconds, squirming. Our lips moved away from one another, and we concentrated on the dildos to provide the conclusive part of our climax. They did not disappoint.

I pushed and pulled my humming dildo in my pussy, with my other hand holding on to Zoe's neck.

With my mouth open, Zoe could make out I was very near climax and not that her dildo was disappointing her in any way. She did not have to pull and push back her dildo inside her pussy, Zoe's had a piston motion functioning deep inside her. Her eyes were droopy, and her mouth remained open in an extended gasp.

As soon as I walked off the climactic cliff, with a throaty "uuuunnnnghh," Zoe followed up with a loud cheer, "aannnnunngh."

We followed up with multiple moans and grunts, synchronizing our pleasure repeatedly with "uuuunnngh" and "aauunngh."

"aaahhh, ANNNNGH, aaahhh, ANNNNGH," our moans and grunts mixed.

I switched off my dildo to relish my climax. Zoe was so entrenched in her climax that she did not switch off her dildo, which ignorant of her state, kept pumping inside her. I saw Zoe convulsing in pleasure, and then I chose a moment to switch off her dildo for her.

It took Zoe another couple of minutes to calm down, and it would take her a few more to stop panting and heaving. She looked towards me, all sweaty and out of breath. And then she smiled, realizing she had changed the dynamics of our shared masturbating sessions.

I smiled back at her tenderly, completely understanding her feelings and offering whatever she needed from me, whatever made her happy. We giggled and laughed at our naughtiness.

The weather was somewhat sticky, and we were no better with the sweat, but without a bother, we just lay there relaxed and calm. I had pulled my dildo out and waved it back on the side stand, letting it roll and make a mess on the table. Zoe pulled hers out and was surprised to see the amount of fluids.

Moments later, with our lungs having calmed down, she moved closer to me and rested her head on my arm, nuzzling her face in my chest. I wrapped my hands around her head and rolled her into me for the rest of the night.

Not surprisingly, hours later, my nipple had found its way inside her mouth, and she was suckling on it like an infant.

Night after night, she slept in my arms, and every time she pulled my nipple in her mouth. Her suckling somehow wasn't just sexual but also had a cavernous intent to it. But I was all too welcoming and loving every moment of it myself. How she was connecting to me, how she was loving me, and how much was of little consequence. I just wanted her to be mine - my daughter.

Days turned to weeks and weeks to a month. We extended our stay in Tuscany. We loved the village and liked the people, and they also seemed to like us. We were getting the hang of the routine as well.

Each morning, I would kiss the top of Zoe's head and either lightly take her off my breast or if she was off it in her sleep, I would pull her head on my nipple and watch her automatically start suckling. A few minutes later, I would slowly slip out of bed, letting her rest for longer. I'd have my first cup of Coffee, usually alone. After we had both freshened up, we would do some stretching exercises together and then sit for a lazy coffee session.

Around eleven, we would go running, and after a five-mile loop, end up in the cafe that became our final stop. Another shot of espresso, and we would walk back home. I had caught up on cooking Italian food, many thanks to the pizzeria owner's wife, who had taught me the best style of cooking pasta, especially the arrabbiata sauce. Ten out of ten days, it was pasta for lunch, we usually played with ingredients and accompaniments.

Long afternoons were spent either going for a ride in our car or lazing at home. We loved the pizzeria, and every night, we had dinner there. One of the best pizzas one could have. We gave in to the pizzeria owner and his wife, who dished us the best meal they felt we needed. We loved every bit of what was served to us, along with some wine, once in a while.

Each night Zoe would roll into my arms, and we would lie hugging for an hour or two until one of us dozed off, it was usually Zoe. Ten out of ten nights, she savored my nipples and breasts, making love to them. Once - sometimes twice a week - we turned to our dildos for relief.

Our driving excursions took us to some beautiful sites across Tuscany, and we scoured the countryside. We drove off usually once or twice a week, to find a new place to see - Florence and its museums or Balze di Volterra, or a day trip to Barga or to Lake Massaciuccoli, and on other days we simply did a shorter ride to the Chianti countryside or Val d'Orcia. On the day trips, we ate at various pizzerias and delis, but when on a shorter trip, we usually ended back at our neighborhood pizzeria, which would usually welcome us with warm, open smiles and, "Benvenuta!" We did not miss that often when talking amongst themselves, they referred to us as 'Baciatrici.'

Yes, we did check what it meant on our phones and ended up smiling and having a good laugh later when home. We were addressed as 'the kissers' because now we were kissing each other a lot, every reason we found, every lovely moment, every small gesture, and we were kissing, often with tongues and many times a lot longer than necessary. If the locals frowned at our public display of affection, they did not show it for whatever reason.

Our month turned into two when the homeowner came to take the keys. We had forgotten to plan for the next leg of the trip. He would not have us hire for less than a month, so we shrugged, 'Another month it is then, brother'.

Same routine. If something changed in our routine, I'd say we did two things differently than the previous month. Our exercise regimen picked up, it felt more like home, and we were tired of being lazy. Our running was longer, Zoe's stamina was way better, and we trained for Muay Thai, every day. The other thing was around masturbating. One day Zoe decided to switch our dildos and tried mine. As I used hers, I realized what I had been missing. Next time onwards, we were masturbating one at a time. When the dildo was wreaking havoc inside her pussy I kissed her, adding to her pleasure, and getting her to a stronger, longer climax. When I was using her dildo, she was kissing me all over and making my life so much better.

The locals possibly now wondered if we had decided to stay back permanently because the warmth towards us had increased. Many were helpful and a lot kinder.

We missed planning the next part of the tour for yet another month and only realized it when the homeowner was back at our door asking for the key. He was perplexed at our behavior. Knowing his limitations, we requested another month's stay and resolved between ourselves not to wait another full month.

Having reserved the house for thirty days, we got cracking on ideas about where to head next. It was clear we had to head east. I floated the idea of Turkey, Egypt, and India. Zoe contemplated Bali, Australia, and New Zealand. Without question, I went with Zoe's choice. I only wanted to ensure we included China in our trip, to which she was more than willing.

After a few days of planning, the itinerary changed slightly to China first and then, head down-under. A natural progression in direction, while traveling eastwards. A few more days later, we made another change in the China section of our plan, choosing Tibet instead.

Leaving our third-month mid-way, we handed the keys to the puzzled homeowner. We had coffee at our regular cafe and said our goodbyes. We briefly stopped at the pizzeria and said our goodbyes to the owners who we had grown fond of. Then we drove south, towards Rome.

Day 99

Driving through the now familiar countryside, we soaked in the lovely weather in our open top. At Leonardo Da Vinci Airport, Rome, we returned the car to the airport center of the rental agency and took a flight to Lhasa via Shanghai.

The call to David was long. Our daily calls had become weekly, for no reason but that we had little to update. I think we were missing England much less now. We told him we were going to Tibet.

In hindsight, booking first class on the long flight to Shanghai was a smart decision. Having experienced the rickety China Eastern Airlines earlier, I booked first class just to ensure we would have at least some comfort in the only airline flying between Rome and Shanghai. On this route, the airline showed a remarkable improvement. The wide-bodied aircraft was almost new, the staff well trained, and the food good quality. China's improved economic situation showed in its airline as well. We got some extra special treatment in the first-class cabin, and nobody bothered us when Zoe snuck into my flat-recliner and snuggled into sleep, which was now her new habit.

Day 100

After twelve hours of flying, we reached Shanghai's stylish and gleaming airport. I was surprised at the efficiency with which we cleared immigration. We waited for a couple of hours before our connection to Lhasa. We spent these hours at the airport lounge and got foot massages at one of the airport outlets offering authentic massages.

Our Tibet Airlines flight to Lhasa was excruciating eight hours long. With no first class, I had booked business class to find whatever relief would be possible. The airline was nowhere near what China Eastern was in efficiency, cleanliness, or service. The only saving grace was the helpful staff, who tried to make up for the neglected airline service.

By the time we reached Lhasa Gonggar airport, we were beat. We did not think we had it in us for another hour's worth of car ride, but that is what it took us to reach Verona International Hotel. The plan was to stay for two nights, and that's what we booked for. In the last mile of the ride to our hotel, we crossed the storied Potala Palace. We listlessly glanced towards the white and brown structure from the car, desperate to reach our hotel.

Though grossly underdressed for the weather in Lhasa, I think we were more tired than cold. Zoe crashed on the bed. Within a couple of minutes, she was dead to the world. I let her sleep for half an hour to catch some rest. The local time was four in the afternoon. I, too, was extremely tired, but I wanted to beat the jet lag by not sleeping early. I ran a bath and snuggled up next to Zoe in an effort to wake her up. Countless kisses and pecks, and all I could manage was to just stir her a little. I started to pull her clothes off, not attempting to be inconspicuous at all.

After I had her jeans and socks off of her, I looked at my handiwork. She lay in her panties and a sweatshirt. I kissed her from her toes and upwards, and by the time I reached her thighs, she was no longer asleep but was still groggy. I would not have done that on another day on my own, but feeling a bit cuddly, I moved towards her pussy covered by a thin layer. By now, I had seen it plenty of times but never this close. Instead of diving in and licking or kissing, I did something that was intended to get her up. I put my nose right where her pussy lips were, outlined neatly in the panties, and nuzzled and rubbed animatedly, even as I made a sound, 'mmmmmmm,' loud enough for her to understand what I was asking, 'get up.'

Zoe stirred awake, and instead of getting up, her hand reached out behind my head and held me in her pussy. When seeing I wasn't participating in the act but just wanted to tickle her awake, she pulled my head in with a purr, 'mmmm."

I still did not act up, but instead, I put my palms on the edge of the bed and pushed up my weight to get away from her.

Zoe was awake now as I disentangled from her grip and looked down at her smiling.

"Darling, I ran a bath. Let's have a good, long bath and get rid of the tiredness. If we sleep now, we'll remain jet lagged." I pleaded to her to get up.

Not that Zoe was complaining. She listened to me way more than she used to a year earlier.

I shucked the gown I had pulled on after undressing and continued to walk naked toward the bathroom. Near the tub, unfit to accommodate two adults, I dipped my hand deep into the tub to check the water temperature. It was perfectly warm, I wanted it hotter, so I turned the knob for a bit more.

I drew the bath salts from the shelf I had checked out before deciding that we should take a hot bath in the tub. I had selected two earlier when I had smelled all four flavors available. I took a handful of the Jasmine, for the perfume, and the Himalayan, to soothe the aches. The bath salts were supposed to calm our bodies.

I saw Zoe join me in the bathroom before I was sitting in the tub. She had removed the sweatshirt, and as I settled in, she pulled her bra and panties off and walked up, amused.

"What the tiny hell is this" she exclaimed. If she was expecting a large, luxurious bath, she was disappointed.

"Come along. I think you will be comfortable in your mama's arms." I opened my arms to ask her to join me in the small tub. She smirked, and if she had any more apprehensions, she let them pass.

My body inside made the water move violently in the tub, raising its level by a couple of inches. I sat back, resting my spine on the arc of one side. I opened my arms again, "C'mon," I invited her.

Naturally, Zoe stepped in the same direction as I had and slowly took one step at a time inside the tub. Once inside, she slowly sat back, using my breasts as her cushion. She held the rim of the tub to steady herself until she was comfortable. The water level rose to the brim, and some of it went splashing around outside the tub. We both giggled.

As Zoe settled in and made herself comfortable, she slipped a bit further down pushing her butt lower so that her head was resting properly, on top of my tits. I brought my hands down from under her arms and rolled one right under her breasts to hold her close. I dragged my other hand lower on her belly, parking it there for any help in adjustment that she might need. There was none. So my palm lay flat on her navel.

Within a minute, we both felt the warmth of the water all around our bodies. Zoe was finally in a comfortable posture, and for a very short second, must have thought - why was she even contemplating this tub was not big enough, it indeed was, for her mom and her.

I bent down, planting a couple of kisses on her head, and let her know we were settled nicely in the tub.

I had the hot water knob on. Partially open, it slowly dropped hot water into our tub. It worked out perfectly. As much hot water the tap let in, the same amount spilled out from the tub as it remained full to the brim. Even the cold weather could not normalize the water temperature. The water remained hotter than it should have been for a normal bath, but we didn't care.

Zoe closed her eyes and experienced what caring, love, and affection could mean. I don't think she even had a speck of hatred, spite, or hostility left in her. Zoe's thought must have been pleasant, and her daydreaming must have involved me somehow because she turned her head on my chest to look up at me. She found me looking down at her, thanking my own gods for bringing her into my life.

Zoe slowly said, "Thank you, Mum. This is lovely."

I smiled and bent forward and kissed her lips. A small peck telling her, "I love you, Zoe."

Zoe inched up, just a notch, to let me know her intent. I leaned down on her lips and took her lips for a fuller kiss. I licked her lips and layered them with my saliva and then sucked on her lips, as she puckered for me. Then I dove into her mouth, and she happily sucked my tongue. As passion grew in our kisses, our tongues began to duel, and my hands started to roam. The arm under Zoe's breasts pulled back, and the palm of my left hand played with her right tit, pawing and squeezing it slowly.

When Zoe sent her tongue into my mouth, my right hand, which had started circling in a massage on her belly, moved lower on her pussymound. Zoe purred her approval in my mouth, "mmm." I reached lower and held her full hairless pussy in my hand. The softness of her skin made me even warmer. I spread my palm across the full length of her pussy and squeezed it slowly. Zoe moaned a bit louder in my mouth, "MMMM."

We kept kissing and tonguing until we struggled to breathe in each other's mouths. Zoe gasped, and as her mouth came off mine, I realized two of my fingers had gone way deeper inside her pussy. Well, in for a penny..... I started to stroke and play inside her pussy with my two fingers. Zoe was looking into my eyes, with hers barely able to remain open. Her pupils were foggy.

We were splashing water all over. The tub could not contain the action of two sexed-up ladies. Seeing Zoe's reaction, I became determined to get her to climax in my arms now that things had reached the place they had.

I lengthened my strokes and included her clitoris in the process. It did not take Zoe long to exclaim her orgasm in her Mama's arms. She gasped, "uuunnngh...unnnnghhh....unnnghhh."

As I felt her hit climax, I slowed the attack inside her pussy but kept stimulating her pussy and clit. She heaved, breathing heavily, and moaned, "uuunnngh..unnnngh," for another minute.

By the time we got out of the bathtub, our skin was wrinkly and burning hot. An error in judgment, to my mind.

We stayed in the room the rest of the evening, ordered food from the hotel's room service, and ate hot soup along with chicken dumplings.

Of course we slept naked and in each other's arms, with no mention of my having brought her to climax, a first for us.

The morning was not unusual either, Zoe latched on to my nipple and my breast, just like she had daily for a couple of months now. The difference was a sharp drop in temperature. The cold around us had made her snuggle up deeper into me. The covers were around our waists, and I hadn't ranked up the temperature before we slept. Another error in judgment by me. I pulled the covers to keep us warm and tugged her even closer to keep her warm.

The slip on my part cost Zoe more than it did me. By morning she was running a fever and was breathless. Lhasa is at an altitude of 3600 meters, which often gets even a normal person breathless and low on oxygen. Coupled with a fever, Zoe took it hard.

The hotel though was accustomed to dealing with first aid and provided an oxygen cylinder with fresh tubes for her to breathe normally. It took her four hours to stabilize her breathing and her blood oxygen to return above ninety-five. Her fever, as we knew, would take longer.

For the next three days, a doctor came to visit and treated her with mild paracetamol and cold medicine. I took care of Zoe personally, never letting her out of my sight for the next few days. Thankfully, I did not let her see or feel that I was panicking like hell. I cried internally at my stupidity in letting it happen and letting my guard down but resolved harder to take care of her even more.

Each day I fed her soup, food, tea, and whatever she needed with my own hands, even though she needed none of that. I think she was loving the part about being coshered and pampered. Even after she had recovered and could eat herself, she waited for me to feed her, and I happily obliged.

Our bond was stronger than ever before. The connection between us was deeper than I could explain.

For a full week, we remained cooped up in our hotel, never leaving the facility beyond the restaurant on the facility, and the spa within the hotel. The two-day stay planned had turned into a week. My mind was made up, we weren't moving for another week at least.

The second week, as Zoe found her normal self back, we stepped out of the hotel into the streets and markets of Lhasa. I still wasn't keen to take the steep climb up to see the Potala Palace. For the next three days, we just hung around Lhasa, absorbed the neighborhood, and interacted with locals mostly. We dined at local restaurants and drank a lot of tea daily. I also ensured we were suitably layered so as not to catch a cold. It was cold but surprisingly not windy like in England.

The visit to the Jokhang temple was a different experience for Zoe. Their praying style was different. The men and women laid a thin mattress on the floor and bent on their knees with palms together in a Namaste. Then they would lean forward until they were prostrating. Then they would rub their nose on the ground paying obeisance before rolling back up until they were on their knees, joining palms together again. All this while, they chanted in low humming notes in praise of Lord Buddha.

Another frequent sight around Lhasa were men and women, usually in religious clothing, but had this hand-held rotating cylindrical prayer wheel. As they walked about, they were whirling it in their hands, chanting and praying as they walked about, doing their chores - "Om Mani Padme Hum" which translates to "Praise to the Jewel in the Lotus".

Lord Buddha is at the foundation of the religion and faith of Buddhism. King Songtsen Gampo, during his reign, brought Buddhism to Tibet from India, in an effort to act as a binding religious force for his vast kingdom, and his subjects.

The two Buddhist priests, who had come from India, were sent across Tibet to spread the message of Lord Buddha and his teachings. Eventually, Buddhism spread north of the Himalayas across China.

Considered one of the holiest temples in Buddhism, a peace-oriented religion, the Jokhang temple has had its share of conflicts. Legend has it, King Songtsen - a Hun - had two wives. One each from Nepal and China and realized both wives were Buddha devotees, albeit a different form of Buddha - one paid obeisance to young prince Buddha - Sakyamuni, and the other to Akshobhya, wisdom Buddha. Both Buddha statues were deified in this temple, and that's how Buddhism found a foothold in Tibet.

On our tenth day in Lhasa, I asked Zoe if she wanted to see the famous Potala Palace. She was all for it. Potala Palace is a world heritage site and the seat of the Dalai Lama until the last one eloped to save his life from the Chinese. It was a fortress converted into a palace. Built at an altitude of 3700 meters on the side of the Ri Marpo mountain, it towers over the city of Lhasa.

Currently a Palace of Art, Potala plays an important role in Tibetan culture and symbolizes the traditional administration of Tibet. If Potala Palace is the highest castle palace in the world, then Tibet is called the roof of the world. If one stands on the portico of the palace, one would know why it gets this moniker. You can see the two monasteries on either side - the famous Sera and Drepung monasteries. Only the mighty Himalayas surrounding Lhasa, with their snow-capped peaks, are higher than this place and belittle even this high-placed palace.

The air up at the palace was rather thin, and one wonders why it was the Winter Palace for the Dalai Lama. I did not want Zoe to exert beyond a point, and immediately after the Palace tour, we trudged back to our hotel. No more activity for the day. The spa in the hotel was for a good reason and we made excellent use of it.

Potala is the official seat of the Dalai Lama. The Chinese had attacked and occupied Tibet some seventy years earlier and the current Dalai Lama, still a child at the time, had to escape to save his life. Choosing one set of high peaks over the other, he set up camp in an Indian town in the Himalayas, Dharamshala. Perhaps in the boundaryless world of a saint the Himalayas were his abode.

We reserved the next day for Sera Monastery. Our guide prompted us to see the Debate Courtyard. I doubt one would see a real-life debate of the kind we saw. We reached early to enter the courtyard. Slowly, as if trickling in, the monks with their maroon and red robes strolled in. One after the other they picked a cushion from the stack nearby and laid them in the courtyard. It took no more than half an hour, and the courtyard was full of monks - debating. The unique style of their debate - often a religious debate, about the scriptures - cannot be understood by tourists or local Tibetans alike. But the format was rather different. Spread across the Courtyard, the Monks debated in pairs, with one sitting on the cushion and the other, standing in front of him, raising the question. The one standing would clap loud before pulling his garland of beads on the shoulder, apparently to indicate that he, too, is a learned man. Then the one standing, animatedly, asks his question, often insisting. The monk on the cushion is surprisingly calm and responds - almost always - in a low tone explaining his point. On and on they go, to and fro. And there are hundreds of these monks doing the same thing across the courtyard. As we left the Debate Courtyard, we felt smarter, but not from the answers of the debate.

We went around the university-style monastery and saw the Great Assembly Hall and the gilt image of Bodhisattva - a man on the path of enlightenment.

Back at the hotel after the trek, we rested for another two days before doing a day trip to hermitage and nunneries around Lhasa. The most formidable of those was Pabongkha.

By the time we were done with Lhasa, both Zoe and I were suitably acclimatized to the altitude. I had already established contact with a disciple of Monkhoev who lived in a large compound near the Yarlung Tsangpo River. The place had no phone. I had earlier sent a messenger from our hotel to inform him about our situation and the delay.

Day 119

On our twentieth day in Tibet, we left Lhasa for the Yarlung Tsangpo region in a Toyota SUV. The two-hundred-kilometer ride seemed longer than the eight-hour flight from Shanghai to Lhasa. The road might have been in shambles, but the scenery more than made up for the perilous ride. The landscapes were picture-perfect, and the drive down the longest and deepest canyon in the world was a sight to behold. Some parts of the road were not for the faint at heart. Zoe and I did not dare look out the window into the deep gorge and snuggled together on the other side of the SUV as if our weight would hold the bobbing vehicle on the road and steady it to balance.

Five hours later, we entered the most idyllic compound I had seen and expected no less. Bstan welcomed us personally at the gate. He must have been able to see our vehicle from a distance. It was the only one polluting the entire valley's clean air, and the engine's noise disturbed the natural habitat of the wild.

Our driver bowed deep in front of Bstan, who just waved his hand toward the driver.

As soon as I saw Bstan, I bowed in front of him around my waist and brought my hands forward with a hold-palm salute, a conventional martial art gesture to address a fellow fighter.

Zoe followed my lead abruptly with her first formal salute.

Bstan bowed with his hold-palm salute and then, in a low but clear English, said, "Welcome."

Bstan, from his looks, was about the late fifties, but his gait and demeanor defied his age. He was slim and wore a maroon robe. His long black hair was neatly combed back, into a ponytail. The wrinkles around his eyes were telltale of his age, but he was sharp in every manner. Zoe later told me, "Bstan looks like the Karate Kid movie's character who plays the teacher."

The driver left us later in the afternoon, immediately after having some soup, to reach back to Lhasa before nightfall. We all ate soup together, and it seemed no one else was there in the compound except the four of us. When we walked in, we saw some animals in the compound - a few sheep, a bunch of hens, an Ox, and two dogs.

Before leaving Lhasa, I had called David to let him know, "We won't have phone access where we are going," and added, "You must not worry, and we will reach out whenever we can."

For the next three months, Bstan worked us aplenty. It helped Zoe way more than it helped me. Her stamina became better, and her skills sharper.

Bstan was a master in Tescao - an ancient Tibetan martial art form currently being revived. Bstan, himself a Tibetan, was a fifth-generation Tescao practitioner. After his father died in an accident, he trained under Monkhoev, a Russian, who had been trained by Bstan's grandfather.

Tescao is an ancient Tibetan warrior art. It has its own uniqueness in its sheer endless variety of exercises. Tescao is an elaborate, coherent, tested fighting and training system but is not bound by strict rules or rituals. It is considered a rather realistic combat technique. Across Asia and Western Europe, it is practiced in private schools, and usually, there are no group training centers. It is considered less boring, its training content varies with trainers and disciples.

The result is mental strength, concentration, determination, fighting spirit, discipline, and serenity.

For three months, Bstan, who spoke fluent English, trained us well. Our routine included getting up at five am daily and stretching for half an hour. After a bowl of rice and gravy, tending to the animals, and running up and down the hills (after three months, we could do five miles either way). A bath in the river. Then, cook food. Noodles or rice - our choice - with gravy. A short nap and we would then train for five continuous hours on various techniques that Bstan himself felt would strengthen our core and improve our skill. A short relaxing stroll, and then we would cook dinner. Noodles or rice - our choice - with stew.

Every week, there was a fellow who would visit. He took the extra milk and eggs and delivered some supplies to the Dojo compound. Bstan was known around the community, which I believe was spread over many hundred kilometers from where we were.

Besides our training, if there was one thing I would want to take back from the region, it was the picturesque Yarlung Tsangpo Grand Canyon. The natural phenomenon of high mountains, curling rivers, and great waterfalls - oh my God, what waterfalls! The canyon region is home to the Rainbow Falls and the Hidden Falls - the inspiration for James Hilton's Shangri-La inspiration for Lost Horizon. The Yarlung Tsangpo Canyon region is a perfect embodiment of a gorgeous painting in real life.

If I look back on how we trained, I feel it was the simplicity of Tescao and the ability to adapt to individual capabilities that made it a great choice. I was not very confident with Zoe taking on advanced martial arts, but by the end of the three months, the way she had excelled, I felt she was ready to take on the world like a true fighter.

At the end of ninety days, we were not ready to leave and felt this was our life, but we all knew the task was complete. Bstan was indeed a master, true to his ancestors, and was every bit, a true Tibetan.

We had requested the supply runner to inform our driver of our pick-up. On his next visit to Bstan's Dojo, the fellow came with our driver and the same Toyota SUV. Before we left, as is customary, we offered a token of our appreciation to Bstan. I knew he would not accept anything monetary. I had thoughtfully brought him some items from back home in England. That made our gift personal, and he was kind enough to accept it.

Day 216

Ninety-seven days of intense training later, we left on the death-defying road trip back up to Lhasa. Thankfully it seemed less dangerous to us on the way up the mountains. I wonder whether it was the journey or our training and our improved mental strength. The mountains, the forest, birds, the animals, the gorge, and the cliffs felt more like home than they did when we were on the way to the Dojo. Even the raindrops on the way back felt familiar as if bidding us goodbye.

We had planned to stay in Lhasa for another three days. I wanted us to see the famous Yamdrok Lake. The trip from Lhasa to the lake was long and tiring, but one look at the magnificent lake and it was all worth it. The lake's water changes colors with the seasons - when we visited, it was Turquoise blue. We wanted to set up camp and stay the night next to the lake, but we were not ill-prepared.

During our earlier stay in Lhasa, we visited the local Wothang Lake. Though great to look at, Wothang was no comparison to the beauty of Yamdrok and the forest around it.

We owed one short visit to the Drepung Monastery, and we did that in the afternoon before we left. Having stayed in the rather rustic setting for over three months, we found a lot of the hotel's luxuries excessive now. It took us two more days to figure out our way to Bali.

Day 221

Four months after our first Tibet Airline flight, we were back on yet another one. This time to Hong Kong. During the time we were training in Tibet, the airline hadn't improved much. By the time we were in Hong Kong, we were grateful that we hadn't crashed into the mountain or dived into Kowloon Bay. We weren't a bit tempted by the famous glittering neon lights around Hong Kong welcoming us in every manner from the plane's window. But the seven-hour long flight had us craving for Bali.

It was late, almost twelve Hong Kong time, when we landed, and our connection was in another two hours. We braced for another five-hour flight. With some forethought, I had again booked First Class tickets on Cathay, an airline I was well acquainted with.

We ate lightly at the first-class lounge at the airport and were the last to board. At two am in the morning, we left Hong Kong for Bali. Within the next thirty minutes, Zoe joined me, and we hugged and slept - my arms pulling her into my chest, hugging her sufficiently to make my flat recliner seem roomier than it actually was. We only got up when the air hostess tapped me on the shoulder, "Our flight is descending," she informed me politely.

Day 222

We landed at Denpasar Airport bright and early in the morning. We got welcomed by balmy weather and petrichor emanating from all around the island, which would remain in our backdrop all through our stay in Bali.

The rental we had chosen was in Uluwatu, and the ride took us an hour and a half to reach. The sun was up, and the weather kept getting warmer as we approached the bungalow.

As the car slowed near our destination, I realized I might have gone overboard. The villa, in Uluwatu, was at the end of the Bali, and the cul de sac brought us in front of a wrought iron gate that seemed to have been lifted from an English estate.

As a matter of fact, the villa was owned by an Englishman. The large walled complex had a guard at the main gate. There seemed to be a small room right next to his guard cabin, making his duty a twenty-four-hour one. It did not seem like he was opening and closing the gate very often either. He, thankfully, allowed our cab to enter the longish driveway that led us to the main bungalow. The size of the building looked like a small hotel. Later, we would get told that it is a twelve-room home of an Englishman who had retired after the war and decided this was not a place he wanted to leave. He expanded the complex to suit his needs, but his family slowly moved on to a more modern lifestyle.

We met the Englishman's handsome grandson in charge of managing the estate. The dashing fellow in his early twenties wore a straw hat, an open batik shirt, and chino shorts. His abs on display clarified that he exercised regularly, and his tan made it clear he played a lot in the sun and the water. Seeing the ladies, he buttoned up his shirt halfway.

"Hi, ladies, I'm Jude. Welcome to Baliiii." He chimed, excited for us.

I extended my hand, "Hi, I am Margaret."

Zoe waved at him and said, "I'm Zoe."

He could not figure out our relationship, and we did not offer an explanation. Seeing Zoe, he flirted a bit but remained largely behaved as he took us around the villa, as he called it.

The villa had twelve rooms, a private pool, a jacuzzi, a games room with a pool table, a massage room at the terrace, a small home gym, a pantry, and two kitchens. The garage had a couple of bikes, a car, and a bicycle. The front courtyard had a huge lawn, and a short walk down some rocks was the beach.

Jude exclaimed, "There is no concept of a private beach in Bali, but this is as private as it can get. There are not many visitors in the region, but those who do walk down the Uluwatu beach do not come all the way down here."

After our tour, at the end of which we were mighty pleased, he handed us a set of keys and introduced us to Ahmad, the villa's security, gofer, and, if need be, handyman. Jude explained before going, "The housekeeper comes every day around noon and shall stay until evening every day. Ahmad here shall introduce her to you when she arrives later today."

Ahmad nodded vigorously.

I said, "Thank you."

Finally, Jude mentioned, "The keys to the vehicles are with Ahmad. You may ask him whichever one you feel like using."

"Oh, we won't be needing them." I countered.

He shrugged.

Before waving goodbye, he offered Zoe, "If you want to join me and my friends for a party, give me a call."

Zoe smiled and blushed for the first time that day. I am going to pick on her later, for sure.

After Jude went off, we toured the house, all over again, checking out all the rooms. "Why did you take this massive house on rent?" Zoe queried, clearly amazed at the size.

"Frankly, I had no idea it would be this big." I defended vainly, "I got recommended to this guy, and I just called him and booked. I should have asked for pictures, I guess."

We walked room after room and realized it would pass for a small hotel back home. To top it all off, was the pool and the jacuzzi. The home gym was a welcome break as well, though we weren't much into lifting weights or running a treadmill.

We held hands when we reached the pool and looked at each other, grinning. We both started together, and Zoe was out of her clothes first, and I was just seconds behind. She jumped, making a splash. I jumped before she could reach back up.

After doing a couple of rounds in the water - the pool length was just fifteen feet and barely five feet deep - we hung around on the deep end and stood in the water. We chatted about everything and just hung next to each other. The water level was at chest level for both of us, just enough to keep our tits underwater. With our shoulders and head above water, we talked for an hour until the bell rang.

Both of us hastily got out of the pool. I reached for the thoughtfully arranged towels nearby on the deck chairs and wrapped one around my breasts. Zoe stayed back on one of the chairs and dabbed herself.

If Ahmad was surprised to see me in the condition, he did not show. Next to him stood a petite, beautiful local girl. She folded her hands in front, gave a slight bow, and introduced herself, "Hello, I am Indah."

I raised an eyebrow and then remembered - the housekeeper.

"Oh, Hi, I am Margaret," I said, remembering to invite them in. Ahmad stayed back outside and waved himself off, bowing multiple times for the intrusion.

I offered Indan to sit, but she bowed and said, "I am here to help you at the house," reminding me that she had work to do. "Can I get you anything?" she asked. "Can I make you something to drink or eat?" Her English was good though she spoke with an Eastern accent and was too soft.

"Is it possible to have some juice?" I asked.

"Oh yes, yes," she exclaimed, grateful that I asked her something to make.

Indah rushed off towards the kitchen. I smiled and turned to catch up with Zoe and inform her of our new assistant.

Zoe was under the open shower, near the pool. I padded next to her and waited for her to finish. When she stepped aside, I cleaned myself of the chlorine and opened my hair.

Again we wrapped the towels around our breasts and moved toward the main living room, where our bags were. Before I could reach for the bag, I saw Indah had laid down two towel gowns for us next to our bags just in case we wanted the gowns instead of opening up our bags. Of course, that's what we went for, "How thoughtful of her." I commented.

Zoe nodded.

Wrapped in the soft towel robes now, we lifted our bags and looked at each other, unable to decide which room we should head for. I said, "Let's take one on the upper floor. The view was better from there, especially the ones facing the ocean. They also had the larger balconies."

"That's what I was thinking," Zoe confirmed.

On we went through the stairs to the upper floor. There was no question of taking different rooms. Both of us reached the far end of the right wing and entered the room. The room had a lovely lime-green coat of paint, made livelier with art on the wall, wooden doors on windows on three sides of the room, the door panels of the window, and the main door had slats that we could open for ventilation.

Neither of us wanted to change into anything else, the towel gowns were comfortable, so we just dumped the bags and walked into the balcony.

For the second time that morning, we soaked in one of the best views of the ocean. The large balcony overlooked the lawn in front of the property, and beyond that, a small rocky section and then the section of beach Jude told was almost private. Beyond the beach was the endless blue ocean with nothing in sight but a couple of boats, a large steamer, and some birds.

We stood, admiring the view, with our arms around each other's waists and Zoe's head on my shoulder.

Indah entered after knocking, which we did not hear. She reached the balcony with a tray with two glasses, a pitcher of fresh orange juice, and another of Watermelon. I wondered what she thought we were going to do with so much juice.

I thanked her, "Indah, thank you." She bowed, smiled, and asked before leaving, "What would you prefer for lunch?"

We were both amused. Unaware that she was going to cook for us as well, I asked her, "Do you do the cooking for the guests who stay here?"

She nodded briskly and, with a broad smile, added, "Oh yes, I cook for everyone."

All right then. I looked at Zoe, who shrugged. Then I looked back at Indah, "We would prefer local food, anything that you can recommend. But just make sure that it is small portions."

She nodded again and happily went on her way.

We had occupied two of the four chairs on the balcony and sat back, looking towards the ocean. Both lost in our own thoughts.

Zoe downed her glass of orange juice quickly, and out of curiosity, I picked up the watermelon pitcher and poured myself a glass. Before long, I had finished mine. I kind of liked the smooth taste. We were on our second glass when I broke the silence, "thinking of Jude?"

Zoe blushed. I knew she wasn't, but still, it got me laughing out loud. She blushed some more. Zoe swatted my arm to shut me up.

We must have been there for two hours and not at all tired of the view. Indah brought us food, and we asked her to set it up on the balcony itself. She set the huge tray down on the large center-table after we removed the half-empty pitchers she had thoughtfully given us. The juices did us good.

We freshened up and washed our hands before heading back to the balcony. Our open-air lunch beckoned, accompanied by some more cool juice.

We ate slowly, enjoyed the food, and chatted about our trip, exchanging notes on the training.

We moved inside only when the sun became unbearable. We spent the rest of the afternoon in the room on our bed. I rested, my back on the headrest, reading a book, and Zoe wrapped herself to me on the side, arching her leg on my thighs and her hand on my belly.

Around half past six, Indah appeared again, knocking lightly on the open door. I kept the book down and looked towards her and then at Zoe on my arm.

Zoe must have dozed off because she stirred when I asked Indah, "Yes, Indah?"

"I have made dinner and would like to go if you have nothing else for me?" Indah asked, her eyes aimed at the floor.

I nodded, slowly confirming with a "thank you."

Indah went to the balcony, collected the tray with our utensils, and walked through the room and out.

Zoe groggily stayed where she was, and I let my hand weave through her hair lightly to let her rest. She purred.

Now that she was up, she decided I was boring her to sleep. She shuffled up and moved towards my lips, and we played our favorite game - kissing. Ever since Zoe had discovered she liked kissing me, she had become an explorer of sorts. Finding new places on me to kiss, finding new ways to kiss me, finding new angles to kiss me. I, for one, was happiest to play along. I loved her to death, and she could not do anything I won't like.

Zoe, that evening decided to linger beyond the lips. After giving me countless kisses all over my face, she leaned into my neck and planted her attack on the side of my neck, and had me humming with an "mmmmm." My hand, behind her head, encouraged her to carry on, and the book had fallen off the other hand.

She fumbled with her other hand to get my towel gown to open from the front, her lips never leaving my neck. Her hand showed urgency as she pulled the lapels of my gown aside and moved towards my tits. Her palm grasped my right boob, and she started to fondle it, slowing her pace now that she had the prize in her hand.

Finding approval in my "mmmm" and the encouragement of my hand, she started her journey downwards, licking and kissing my chest. When she reached my breast, all too familiar terrain for her, she kissed slowly on her way to my nipple. After a brief peck, saying her 'hi' to my nipple, she enveloped the entire areola with a broad stroke of lick with her tongue.

I shivered in delight. Zoe felt my approval.

She licked my nipple, flicked it, and then pulled it in her mouth, finding new ways to love it. She decided there was more to be done on that day and kissed her way lower on my tit. As her lips found the underside of my breasts, I quivered in anticipation.

Zoe's left hand remained on my right boob, fondling it merrily. She continued her journey and reached my navel, kissing and licking on her path. I was nowhere near calm and collected when she kissed me on my pussy mound. My pussylips were pulsing by then.

It would be a first for Zoe. I knew she had never sucked a pussy. That it would be mine, was maddening and beyond awesome for me. I pulled both my hands behind her head to help her. Her hand on my boob fell to my hip.

Encouraged by my support, she moved ahead. Before going down on my pussy, Zoe pulled her head up to admire it from close up. She must have liked what she saw because she bent forward and kissed my pussylips, tenderly. She must have liked how it felt because after that she stayed there for a good twenty minutes, licking, sucking, and making love to my pussy in every way an experienced pussylicker would.

I was writhing and moaning into my second climax when Zoe decided to slow down. Not bothering to clean the mess she had made, she climbed back up and joined her lips to mine. I was still heaving but found my breath to kiss and lick my juices from her mouth as we passionately kissed each other.

We stayed like that for a long while, in each other's arms, embracing, and every few seconds, one of us would lean forward for a kiss.

In the many layers in our relationship, that first night in Bali, we added another.

I let the edge of Zoe's excitement settle before I returned her the favor. We stayed wrapped in each other's arms for the next half hour. Zoe's face was next to mine, cheek to cheek. Finally, I shuffled up a little, getting her off my shoulder in the process. She leaned back to check what I was doing.

I moved up, rested my back on the headrest, and then pushed my arm under her to nudge and pull her on top. Zoe happily complied. She thought I was asking her to lay on top of me, but I instead pulled her to sit on my thighs, facing me.

As she climbed on me and I made her shuffle forward until her pussy mound was on mine, skin to skin. Her gown hadn't left her shoulders yet, and it was my turn to pull Zoe's off her even though it was open and halfway down on one side. I pulled the rest of it away and let it fall behind her, on my thighs.

Both of us naked, facing each other, Zoe sat admiring me as I looked into her beautiful eyes. Her knees planted on either side of mine. I pulled my hands on the side of her head and drew her on my lips. I had to reach up for her lips. Zoe held the back of my head and let her one hand drop on my back to tighten her hold behind me. Our kiss started slowly and rapidly grew in passion. I slid out of her mouth and made my intentions clear as I copied her style and kissed her neck before traveling down to her chest. I sucked and kissed her neck longer than she had spent on mine to get her moaning. Then I moved down towards her breasts, kissing the creamy, tender skin on top of her breasts and adding a thick layer of saliva. When I reached her nipple, Zoe was so close to climax, she was quivering. Her pink areolae were puffy, and her nipples were erect.

I made love to her breasts one at a time and sucked them, and returned the favor the best I could to her breasts. Zoe pulled my head dearly and let me play as much as I wanted with her breasts, often guiding me to the other tit when she felt one was getting overlooked.

After having licked me to a wonderful climax, if she had calmed somewhat, this was stoking her fire back. I reminded myself of what was expected of me. Then I lowered my hands behind her back, one high on her back and the other lower. I shuffled again to move my legs. Realizing I was trying to fold my legs, Zoe lifted herself slightly, getting her weight off my thighs.

I pushed forward and, with slick moves, made her fall back on the bed while keeping her locked in my arms. I, too, fell forward and simultaneously moved my legs back from under her. With the last bits of adjustments made, I was kneeling between Zoe's thighs with my face on her stomach. Obviously, I bent forward and started to kiss. Zoe giggled.

I relaxed my hold behind her back, licking and kissing my way down, just as Zoe had done with me. I had loved what Zoe did to me, and there was no reason she wouldn't feel the same when I would go down on her.

By the time I reached Zoe's pussy mound at glacial speed, I had licked every inch between her navel and pussy. I pulled back to admire her pink pussylips, pulsing in anticipation, opening just slightly for me. Zoe's hand behind my head was ready to respond, unclear if she was going to pull me off or push me in when my mouth touched her pussy. Her hips, in excitement, could not stay back on the mattress and reached just an inch higher giving away the state of her mind.

I did not tease her any longer. I leaned forward to kiss Zoe's pussy. She shuddered in delight. I opened my mouth and took her pussylips in my mouth. She shivered in delight. I leaned my tongue lower and touched her lightly low on the pussy, I don't think she realized my tongue was there. I moved my tongue along the pussylips, and she flinched, trying to find a response. I gave her no time, I dived in before my tongue in. She convulsed into an orgasm. Her hands pulled my head towards her pussy.

"aaaaammmmmhhhhhhh.........." she moaned in delight, clearly loving what she felt, and I had barely started.

I slowly kept licking until she was deep into her orgasm, and then I picked up the pace to prolong her climax as far as I could. Zoe complied with giving in and giving herself to me to pleasure, raising her voice, "AAAAMMMMMMMMM...."

I moved my tongue out and let her pussy pulse, licking the juices that flowed out of her. Before she was down from her high, I started playing with her clitoris. She went ballistic. "MAAAMMMMAAAAAAAAA........HHHHH" Her body shook wildly, but her hand behind my head drew me inside her pussy. Her other hand held the sheet on the bed in a tight grip.

I altered between flicking, licking, and sucking on her clit to keep her orgasm flowing. Zoe must have felt as if she had entered heaven because every bone, every muscle, and every cell in her body thanked God for what she was feeling at that moment.

She was making incomprehensible noises, but embedded in their meaning was me, "MMMMmmmmmm....MOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM....uuuurrnnghh....MMAAA...AAAARRRGGGNNHHH...MMUUUUU..." Even if she was crying out of climax, all I heard was my daughter's cry for her Mom. I was giving her pleasure, and I would continue to do it.

"UUUNNNGH....AAAHHHH....MMMMUUUUMMMM," she joyfully hummed.

By the time I had finished every ounce of juice from inside her, she was a mess, all sweaty and breathless.

I licked my way up, kissing her heaving breasts and then landing on her lips. She was in no position to kiss me back. She just opened her mouth for me to let me do whatever nice things I wanted with her.

We got to the kitchen at around ten in the night, famished from the sexual workout. We first downed a glass of water each before picking up the food Indah had prepared for us. Two bowls of cooked rice, two dishes of vegetables in some coconut gravy, a bowl full of salad, and soup. We ate half of it and left half. I resolved to tell Indah to reduce the quantity per meal.

Zoe slept in my arms just like she always did now. I woke up at five the next morning. My nipple was in her half-open mouth. After Bstan's training, one thing we both had become habitual of, getting up at five am.

We chose to give the beach a try by running on our first morning there. By six am, we were out on our section of the lonely beach and had moved northwards towards Uluwatu Beach, a popular tourist destination. We jogged for a good four miles before turning back and only stopped when we had reached our private section of the beach. Instead of going up to the house, we sat on the beach for a while.

Both Zoe and I loved beaches and were happy to sit and enjoy the sun for hours, but neither of us had a love for the ocean. Zoe and I could swim well, we could surf and hold our own in the ocean, but we weren't really fond of it.

But we liked the swimming pools much better, that's where we found ourselves within the next hour. We shucked our sweaty clothes and dove into the pool together.

After a few minutes of swimming, we found a corner on the deep side to stand in.

"About last night..." I decided to talk about our lovemaking yesterday.

"I loved it," pat came the reply from Zoe, not waiting for me to lead the discussion.

I smiled and looked into her eyes. She looked back into my eyes with equal adulation.

I decided a discussion wasn't needed. Zoe was comfortable and wanted what we did, with no regrets.

I changed tack and opened my arm for her, "Come here."

She happily turned and moved a couple of steps to come in front of me. She leaned forward to let me say what I wanted inside her mouth and planted a kiss on my lips. She flung her hands behind my head.

I held her by her waist, complied with her kiss, and responded with vigor. My arms wrapped behind her back as she moved even closer, flushing the water from between our bodies.

We French-kissed over and over, passionately.

Not sufficiently satisfied with the closeness, Zoe swung her leg behind my ass. Uncomfortable with the posture, she pulled her other leg around my back and clung to me in the water, in the process, gaining a few inches over my head. Then she sent her tongue even deeper into my mouth. I balanced Zoe in my arms, locking my hands behind her. As she clung to me, her weight felt lighter, thanks to the water. Her breasts squeezed in my chest, just above mine.

After countless kisses, she parked her head on my shoulder, and I carried her in the water, staying attached at the front, with her clinging to me like a baby panda.

"Mama, I love you."

"Not as much as I love you," I replied.

She snuggled further into my shoulder in response, satisfied.

We must have remained in the water for a long hour, in a bear hug, before we decided to walk out and take a shower.

Both of us walked to the shower together, with no second thoughts about having one separately. We rubbed some of the chlorine off each other. Indah had ensured the deck had sufficient robes and towels before she had left. We both picked a towel gown. Zoe went and sat on the chair. I went inside to find something to drink.

We had some of yesterday's juices. I loaded them on the tray and got those out, along with an extra jar full of water.

We relaxed on the deck chairs, drank water, and then finished the juices slowly over the next couple of hours.

Indah broke the silence around the house with the bell and offered her slight bow, "Selamat pagi," joining her palms, a gesture we subsequently came to know was called, Sembah. A sort of Namaste we had gotten used to in Tibet.

"Good morning," I wished her, and off she went to handle her chores.

"What can I make for Lunch?" She asked, returning after a couple of steps.

"Whatever. You decide, Indah. We liked what you cooked yesterday. We are fine with your choice. You don't have to ask us daily. Please make what you feel we should have, so far as it is local Indonesian cuisine. We wouldn't know anyways." I told her.

She smiled at being given a free hand, or maybe because I had asked her to stick to Indonesian food. I don't know. She was smart. I figured it would be the least risk we could take.

I went for a shower, and Zoe stayed for a bit longer in the sun. By the time she came for a shower, I had dressed in a thin skirt and a vest top, nothing underneath.

Zoe, after her shower, chose to stick around in just her panties and a loose, thin T-shirt that barely covered her butt.

We settled on our balcony for the rest of the afternoon and enjoyed the view, our lunch, and each other's company.

It was Indah who observed us applying cream and offered, "Ms. Margaret, the lawn in the front allows a lovely view and good shade. You'd be able to enjoy the weather more."

Before I could say 'duh' or comment, she signaled a point on the lower level in the garden that had the house's shade.

I could not counter that and looked toward Zoe. She shrugged, keen to get out of the scorching sun.

The lower level garden indeed had a perfect setting. Around noon, the house blocked the sun and created a large enough cover from the sun, almost across the complete lawn. Indah set for us two pool chairs with cushions, pillows, towel gowns, and towels. The view, not as perfect as the upper level, was still great. We could look at the confluence of sky and ocean at the horizon. The large hedge on one side and some hilly rocks on the other ensured the garden was almost completely private except from our balcony on the upper level.

The balmy air seemed much more pleasant when we lay in the shade, the landscape view still largely intact. I appreciated Indah's insight and thanked her for it.

It did not take three days, almost in line with my sixth sense, for Jude to return. I knew he would be doing it often. The first visit was a courtesy to check if we had settled in and if we needed anything. There was less awkwardness on his second visit a few days later. I fabricated a difficulty with the jacuzzi functioning. He was more than happy to oblige since he was there. I pretended to be busy with something and requested him to show it to Zoe. He couldn't have been happier.

After a couple more visits, it took him three weeks to repeat his offer of the first day to Zoe. "Would you like to check out a Bali party?" His question was more of a request.

Zoe, already blushing, looked towards me. I shrugged as if there was no harm, not that she needed my approval. She nodded. He exclaimed, "So it's a date. I'll come by later, around seven." Just like that, Zoe realized she was going on a date.

Over the three weeks we had been in Bali, we had ventured out little. Our routine was a daily morning run, which we had changed just a little - instead of coming back down the couple of miles back from Uluwatu beach towards our section, we now took a detour and jogged back through the town, crossing the village roads before reaching the villa. The run every day was followed by some training, a couple of hours in the pool - playing with each other, juice and fruits for breakfast around poolside in the sun, lunch by Indah, then lazing in the private lawn in the shade, going back to the upper floor after dinner, and making love almost every day. What never changed was Zoe and I cuddling naked during the night until we slept and me waking up to find her latched on to my breast.

Day 243

On the date night, Zoe dressed up in a nice shirt and tight jeans, and Jude came dot at seven, hoping Zoe hadn't changed her mind.

As Jude opened the door of his SUV for Zoe to get in, I felt an unusual sensation in my heart. I wasn't aware of the feeling earlier until then.

In the kitchen, I met Indah, who was all but done for the day and was ready to leave. We got talking, and I got to know more about Jude from her - the Grandson of an Englishman who had stayed back after WW-II. "He died here and is buried at a local cemetery. His only son, Jude's father, had married a Jewish priest's daughter," she told, "They had two children Jude and his sister, Abigail. Jude's parents had a nasty divorce. The children had been raised, by Jude's father, in this very villa. Jude's father was a drunk, but a loving father. He died early. His mother never came back."

"Despite having studied little, Jude took charge of his father's business when he was just seventeen. Now, seven years later, he has expanded the business manifold to hold several hundred acres of orchards and stays with his sister at the house near their orchards."

Just so it does not turn to ruins, the villa is sometimes rented. "It also supports the five staff and their families," she proudly told me, "my mother worked here before me." Then she added, "Ahmad has been here for twenty years." The gardener, the electrician, and the plumber had been accommodated at the orchards but also had additional tasks to manage at the villa.

Having heard Jude's story, my mind calmed somewhat, thankful that Zoe was not going out with some local romeo.

Indah, herself a young, beautiful girl in her early twenties, had studied hospitality, thanks to Jude's family sponsoring her education. Each morning she attended part-time college for three hours before turning up for the job at twelve.

Zoe came back even happier than she had gone. Jude dropped her off in his SUV inside the villa gates and left waving. Zoe excitedly told me all about her date. They had partied along with Jude's friends at a club. Neither Jude nor Zoe drank. But they danced aplenty. No, there were no drugs at the party.

I judged from the looks on Zoe's face she was telling me everything as it happened - excited and happy. It wasn't as if I was enquiring, but I was glad I had every detail.

Of course, over the next couple of weeks, Jude took Zoe out on a few other dates. Each time Zoe returned from her date with Jude, she gave a detailed description of what happened and what they did. Especially once when he had taken her to see their orchards, she seemed to have quite enjoyed the experience. On that day, she also met Abigail, his sister. Abby was attending college and was two months older than Zoe.

Zoe had regaled them with her own stories, especially stories of her travels across Europe and Asia. Having never set foot outside of Indonesia, the siblings were in awe of Zoe.

Day 260

That was the first time Zoe let Jude kiss her when dropping her off at the Villa. Later that night, Zoe, blushing profusely, told me how she felt.

Day 312

It had been three months since we came to Bali, we were largely on the same routine - Jog, train, pool, lawn, sleep. Zoe hung out with Jude thrice a week or more. Each of those nights, Zoe and I would make love. Jude, like a gentleman, had not gone beyond kissing and making out with Zoe.

I did not broach the subject of our travel plan ahead. If anything, I was extremely happy for Zoe. She loved it in Bali. To test deeper waters, I invited Jude and Abigail for Lunch one day.

Day 315

Abigail had a college gig on the day, but Jude came over around half past six. He came dressed in jeans and a shirt with a baseball cap. Zoe met him at the door and welcomed him with a kiss. I smiled looking at him, and said, "Hi Jude, welcome." then, as an afterthought, added, "to your home, I should say?"

We all laughed at my attempt at a joke. Even if I wasn't funny, I did manage to break the ice.

Indah had thankfully volunteered to stay for a while longer to help. She was excited that we would have guests at the villa. That the guests were her employers, was even better. She did not cut down on putting her hospitality skills into play, even when she noted that Abby had not come that evening.

We sat on the lawn and watched the sun go down. Indah got us satay, fish fingers, and juice. We parked ourselves there, chatting, until Indah came back with the dinner invite, "Dinner is ready."

We moved to the dining room and ate at the table. Jude sat opposite us as we talked about his business, and he told us about the cocoa plantations he had inherited and the variety of fruits he had expanded into.

"Zoe told me about the places both of you have traveled to. Tremendous, I must say," he complimented. I smiled back.

The conversation, post-dinner, veered to his upbringing in the villa. He tried to tell us about his room. We couldn't figure out which one. He offered Zoe to show it to her.

In his room from childhood, he shared with Zoe his memories of his childhood, his parents, and his pains.

Zoe, filled with kindness, leaned forward to kiss him, consoling him. Soon enough, they were making out and half on the bed.

It was Zoe, who asked him, "Would you like to stay the night?"

Jude, grateful for the invite, nodded vigorously. It wasn't that he was shy, but I guess, just a bit hesitant.

Zoe asked, "Shall we go to my room?" Without waiting for an answer, she got off the bed and extended her hand for him to take it. Which he did.

Zoe led their walk, leaving some six doors before reaching the one she had been sleeping in, ever since she had arrived in Bali. The one she had been sharing with me.

I stayed back downstairs and helped Indah clear the table. Indah took her leave for the day. Dinner was over, and I insisted that she carry on home, "I think we might not need you tonight. Dinner is done." Indah, happy to leave, went home.

I moved around the ground floor and switched the extra lights off before retiring to the upper floor. Not sure where Zoe and Jude would be, I went straight to our room. I did not want to disturb them.

By the time I reached the open door of the room, Zoe and Jude both were naked. Jude was kissing his way to Zoe's heart. Her moans and purrs were signs of approval of the way things were progressing.

Jude lay on his back, and Zoe was lying full on him. Both of them groped around each other's bodies with passionate moans. In my foggy mind, I was drawn to my baby and her partner. I stepped inside the room.

Zoe was frantic in heat, and her movements were rapid. She lifted her shoulders and sat on his groin, spreading her thighs, and grounding her knees on Jude's sides. Just as she was riding him, layering his dick with her pussy, almost ready to go all the way, Jude noticed me a couple of steps away beside Zoe.

The natural reaction was for him to panic and scramble. Before he could make any stupid moves, I stepped forward and extended my hand on Zoe's shoulder. She instantly looked towards me. Something on my face must have given away that I wasn't upset because neither of them shuffled around in haste, although Jude was indeed stupefied.

Given our closeness, Zoe could read me from a mile away. She saw in my eyes the love I had for her and smiled. I smiled back and bent forward, taking her lips in mine. She moved up off Jude's thighs a few inches and gave me a whole-hearted French kiss. I returned her kiss even more fervently.

Jude must have gone bonkers at that moment. In a panic state, though excited, he wasn't moving. I could sense his apprehension.

"Jude, it's okay. I wouldn't want to miss Zoe's first time for the world. Let's make it special for her." Now that I think of it, I should have put it differently. But the message was clear. I was asking him to fuck her in front of me and take her cherry.

His mouth had remained open ever since he saw me in the room with them. Zoe, ecstatic, lowered herself on his thighs and leaned forward towards his face, and started kissing him. It took him a few extra seconds, but he responded with a lot of vigor.

Zoe moved her butt and layered Jude's dick with cream overflowing from her wet pussy. He responded with an "mmm."

Their kisses went on and on until they could bear no more. Zoe moved out of his mouth, planted her palms on his chest, and pulled her shoulders up.

I was still hanging around. Zoe turned her head towards me hungrily. I nodded. Zoe lifted her bum a little and raised one knee off the bed to make room under her. Without an invitation, I reached between Jude and Zoe, and snaked my hand around his cock - his rock-hard cock. Jude flinched.

I looked towards Jude, whose mouth had again opened wide. I forgot about him and concentrated on Zoe. She moved her hand on my shoulder and gave me some more room under her, lifting her butt a little more.

Still unable to see between their groins, I leaned closer to them and turned his hose upwards. At a quick glance, the white-pink pulsing piece of meat in my hand was rock-hard, ready to please my daughter. I kept straightening it until the crown of his cock was touching her pussy lips. Zoe shuddered.

I held him straight and looked back up. Zoe's face was in my direction, but her eyes were closed, trying to feel the pole at her gate. She could sense it and was imagining it in her mind. Feeling no further movement, she opened her eyes after a long pause, and saw right into my eyes. I blinked once and smiled.

Zoe smiled and started sinking down on Jude's dick. Her mouth opened with the same speed as her pussy ate his dick. Both of us never let go of our eye contact, even as she descended slowly, savoring every moment of her first real-life cock.

Seconds later, my hand, holding Jude's cock in a death grip, felt her pussylips. The raw heat emanating from Zoe's pussy sent goosebumps through my body. I changed position a little and loosened my hold on his cock, and let go. Zoe let gravity assist her as she concentrated on enjoying the exquisite feeling of a cock entering her pussy.

Zoe only stopped when her pussy had gobbled up Jude inside her, and her pussylips were kissing the base of his dick. Her eyes spoke to me, and I moved up. Once near her face, I again leaned forward and kissed her lips lightly. Zoe closed her eyes.

I moved aside but stayed on the bed, facing them sideways. Both of them stayed motionless and let the feeling sink in.

Zoe opened her eyes after a long pause and looked toward Jude. His mouth was still open, and he, too, was comprehending the intensity of the moment.

Zoe leaned forward and started to move her butt very slowly. She parked her hands on his chest to help support herself above him as she worked her butt in slow motion.

Both of them moaned in sync, "mmmmmmm."

Unlike how I assumed I'd see a first-time lovemaking couple, they moved surprisingly smoothly. Call it a good sign, but that helped them soak in the pleasure. The frenzy came a few minutes later.

Jude matched Zoe's bucking, stroke for stroke beneath her. It did not take them very long to raise their moans and grunts.

With their bucking and thrusting getting heavier, Zoe cried, "MMMMMMMUUUUU," and Jude with a "HUUUUUNNNNH." It seemed as if they were communicating in this alien language that they both understood. Well, to an extent, at that moment, I could make out what that meant, as well. Their pent-up horniness had got them off to a flying start.

Jude was about to explode inside Zoe and sought permission. Zoe, on her account, bucked even harder to ensure not only did he know it was cool to come inside her, she was also keen to time her climax with his.

Their movements became frantic, and they lost the rhythm they had managed. It was Jude who let go first, failing to hold back until Zoe climaxed. His first string hit deep inside her, and she could literally feel the string surge and hit her innards. The feeling triggered something in her head, and the bowels released a mind-numbing orgasm of her own.

Zoe howled with a deep throaty, 'MMMMMMMMMMMMUUUUUUUUNNNNNNHHHH," completely overshadowing the exult that had escaped Jude's mouth, "UUNNNGHH."

They repeated their cries of pleasure, over and over, as Zoe kept bucking, "MMMMMMMuuuungh" and Jude kept jerking, "uuunngh."

Zoe had unleashed the longest orgasm of her lifetime, and Jude must have had his most pleasant one.

Eventually, Zoe fell forward breathlessly and laid her face next to Jude's, on his chest. Their joined bodies from the front surged and fell together. Both of them tried to work their lungs and return to normal breathing.

I moved my hand forward and rolled my fingers on Zoe's forehead, pulling back the couple of sweaty stray hair from her face. She looked towards me, not moving, but broke into a smile, still unable to say anything. Then she giggled lightly, letting me know with her smile how she felt. She did not have to use words for me to know.

Zoe rolled off to the other side of Jude, looked towards the ceiling, and got her ragged breathing under control sooner than Jude could. I wouldn't blame if Jude felt awkward lying naked between mother and daughter.

I leaned forward with my hand on Jude's chest and offered him to stay the night. He was now dumbfounded by the same request he had already received from Zoe. He opened his mouth to say something but could not find the appropriate words. I took it as his confirmation.

I got up and went to the ensuite to freshen up and change for the night.

An hour later, Zoe lay sandwiched between Jude and me. Jude deep into her pussy from behind. She had arched her right leg back on Jude's thigh as she faced me.

Jude happily shoved in and out of her pussy as luxuriatingly as possible. Zoe hummed her approval into my chest as Jude banged her rhythmically, slapping the top of his thigh into Zoe's bottom.

It was Zoe who exclaimed her climax first and kept moaning in delight, "mmmmm...mmmmm...mmmmm...mmmmm."

Jude had the sense and control to hold himself back, slowly nudging and jerking until Zoe had finally calmed down. He did not retreat from inside Zoe. Minutes after Zoe had settled down, he kept pulsing, jerking, and twitching inside her to remind her of his presence.

Zoe, having caught her breath, again looked up towards my face and found a deeply satisfied mother enjoying her baby having fun.

She leaned up to me and kissed me. I kissed her back, and we French-kissed for a good while, even as Jude's rock-hard cock inside Zoe strengthened further and made its presence felt.

Soon, the three of us were moaning simultaneously. One of us was louder than the other two, no one could pinpoint who it was.

Zoe eventually came out of my mouth and leaned back with her hand behind her. She got hold of Jude's dick from its base and moved her hips forward, extracting his full length out of her pussy. Then shuffling a little, Zoe straightened to lay on her back without removing her grip from around his dick. She settled her head on a pillow and tugged his dick lightly, pulling him on.

Jude only needed a suggestion and moved hastily to find himself between her thighs. Then he leaned forward, parked his palms on Zoe's sides, and leaned forward to kiss her. Surely, he must have found some of me in her mouth. Zoe, raised her hands behind his back and neck to force him down and kiss him hungrily.

Feeling the urge to intervene, I shoved my hand between them and got hold of his dick the second time that night. His hips made space. I directed his cock to the lips of Zoe's pussy and moved it an inch inside.

Zoe was already pulling him and gave him only a fraction of a second to follow through with his cock. He used it fully and embedded his cock deep inside her just as his tongue went in her mouth simultaneously.

Taking her missionary style, Jude moved his hips slowly at first and soon got caught up in the heat of the moment and was pumping into her.

"hhhuuu...huuu..hhhuuh," his muted grunts met Zoe's softer moans, "mmuuu...mmm...mmmmm," as they disengaged from the face and focused on making love.

On her part, Zoe lifted her hips a tad bit, providing him with better access inside her pussy. His palms resting beside Zoe helped him to leverage his knees and do the pistoning.

Just then, he looked to Zoe's right in my direction and caught a glimpse of me lying on my side, nude, facing them. I think it was too much for him. He let out a mad grunt and released a torrent of his cum inside Zoe.

I reached down from between their thighs and snaked my hand deeper to find Zoe's pussy. I felt her pulsing pussy getting pounded by his cock. I moved even lower, and as soon as I was on the crown of Zoe's rear opening, soaking wet from the juices that had been flowing from out of her pussy - a mix of her own and Jude's - I shoved my index finger until my first knuckle inside her.

"AAAA…....MMMMOOOOOOO," Zoe, having never felt something like that, shrieked into a loud, rocking orgasm of her own. Flinching, she squeezing her sphincter around the tip of my finger and shoved her hips even higher. In doing this, she let even more of Jude inside her. As Jude pounded her downwards, her butt lowered, allowing more of my finger in her. She flinched again and moved her butt up to get more of Jude in her.

Zoe did not know what to do, Jude had no idea what was happening between them, but both were having a loud and wonderful climax.

Before Zoe could come down from her climax, I had retreated from her anal opening, but Jude stayed inside her for longer, and both savored the moment. Eventually, both of them ended up kissing and separated only for the lack of air in their lungs.

Day 316

I woke up early the next morning to find Zoe in her daily position - on my nipple. I arched up to reconfirm. Jude was indeed spooning her from behind. My daughter, my love, slept like an angel between us.

After more than a month of similar nightcaps of staying over, I had offered Jude, "Would you like to move in with us at the villa." I had intentionally added, "...until we have left, at least." An emphasis on the 'until we have left.'

He had politely declined, informing, "Can't leave Abby alone. She needs me as well."

Zoe and Abigail had turned out to be very fond of each other as well. That they were similar in age and that they both loved Jude helped them connect.

For the next three months since his first overnight stay and making love with Zoe, Jude spent three to four nights every week with us. All this while, Zoe and I never once discussed plans to travel further. I gave Zoe all the time she wanted, letting her figure things out. Of course, I was there if she needed my advice. It turned out she did.

Day 396

One evening, I called David. Zoe had her head on my lap, my fingers coursing through her hair. It must have been around noon in England at that hour.

"David, you better quickly come to Bali," I said with urgency in my voice.

"What? Is everything alright? How's Zoe?" David panicked.

"David, I do not have the time to explain too much. All I must ask you is to take the fucking next flight out. Reach Bali this very instant." I raised my voice.

"But.....b..what's going on. Please .... god... Where's Zoe?" He was now sufficiently frightened.

"I can't talk much. I need you here, this instant...." I felt guilty, but I pushed further, making him go mad.

Zoe snatched the phone off from my hand, "Dad,..." she heard him worried shit, "Dad..dad..dad. She is just messing with you. But you do need to come....... if you want to give your daughter away in marriage."

"WHHAAAT," he shouted, exclaiming.

Day 405

The wedding ceremony was held ten days later in the Church of the Sacred Heart in Denpasar, Bali. David and I attended the ceremony from the bridal side. Besides a few of Abby's and Jude's friends, his aunt was present. Abby was also Zoe's bridesmaid.

After the wedding, we stayed for two more days at the villa. Thankfully Abby, Jude, and Zoe also stayed with us to give us company until we left for England.

Zoe slept with me for those two nights as well, in just the manner she had been over the last year. Neither of those two nights was a pleasure, as I knew all too well my life was going to be hell after I leave her. On my last night in Bali, I sobbed all night even as she remained glued to my tit.

If David found it odd having to sleep alone, he did not say anything. If Jude found himself in an awkward position without his bride by his side on the first two nights of his marriage, he knew better and stayed quiet.

In the evening, the day before we were to leave, all five of us sat on the lawn, watching the sunset. Indah routinely checked with us if we needed more drinks or anything. I found a moment alone with Jude to have a short chat. It was spontaneous, and this is how our conversation went...

"Jude, do you know the meaning of her name...Zoe?"

Jude, generally well-informed, was a bit surprised by the question. He did not have the answer. He said, "No. I do not." and looked toward me keenly, waiting for the answer.

I looked into his eyes directly and said, "It is Greek for Life." I almost sang the word, Life.

"You know, to us, to ME, she is my Life." Jude was nodding. "If you do anything to make her unhappy, so much as lay a finger on her or make her cry,....I.." At even the thought of her crying, I choked. But found the strength to add, "...I am going to chop your balls off. Then I would kill you. Not until I have tortured you." I said slowly, finding each word coming from deep inside me.

Jude must have thought I was joking. But the look in my moist eyes told him I was deadly serious. He knew I was choking when I said what I said. He got up from where he was sitting and hugged me. I was shaking. He whispered in my ears, "I would take care of Zoe, your life, with my life."

In Jude, Zoe had replaced her partner as she finished the rest of the journey. They went on their honeymoon to Australia and New Zealand the day after we left for England.

I was stoically silent on my flight back home. It was the longest flight I had to take. I had no idea what I was going to do next or how I would manage my life ahead. Zoe was a part of my heart, part of my soul that I had left behind in Bali. David reminded me I felt like every parent does.

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I enjoyed writing this story. I hope you like it also.