Translucent aqua water lapped the small, white-sand beach as the weathered Cessna lowered to an airstrip, nothing more than a walking path at the edge of the tiny, remote island. Lush, thick, tropical foliage surrounded us. Geeta, the indigenous sage and pilot, pivoted the plane, positioning for her imminent take-off. “Do not forget,” she said, leaning her mouth toward my ear, “the greatest act of control, is surrender.”

I nervously turned the latch and stepped out onto the grassy pathway. The plane instantly lunged forward, forcing the door handle out of my small hand, before it took off. In an instant, I was stranded on a tiny rainforest paradise, in the middle of the ocean, with only the clothes on my body.

Twenty-four hours before, I was ranting to my friend Kiera about my frustrating sex life, as we sat over lunch in a posh Chicago eatery. There was something magical about her, not to mention her sex life. She smiled and asked how serious I was about changing that. It would require trust, mystery, and letting go of control. She knew I was terrible with all three – especially control. I was desperate and impulsive.  

Within three hours, she had me on a plane to Mozambique, a hopper to Mauritius, and a smaller plane to Port Mathurin.  My white sundress immediately absorbed the moisture from the humid tropics, exposing my naked tits beneath. My feet were slippery in my leather sandals.

Now stranded and confused, I turned toward the dense jungle to find food and shelter as the sun set. I barged in, fighting branches back. I soon got tangled in them, slipped, and fell, ripping my sundress to a rag. I returned to the beach.

The next morning, the temperature and humidity rose quickly with the sun. Beads of sweat dotted my ebony body, soaking my thong. I went back into the jungle to find some food, I devoured some hanging fruit, despite their bitterness.

The faint sound of water drew me in deeper. The ground became wet with treacly mud. I trudged through. My sandal straps broke. Viscous sludge stained my legs. I pushed on barefooted, desperate for fresh water.

I came upon a beautiful lagoon with a towering waterfall at the center of the island. My mouth was parched. My tired body dripped with sweat and was caked with clay-like muck. I cupped the water, washed my face, drinking as much as I could. Finally, something was going right.

Greedily, I wanted more. I stepped into the lagoon to bathe. The water was cool and refreshing. My body tingled, strangely aroused. My nipples hardened. The magical water caressed me. I couldn’t make sense of it, but I didn’t want it to stop.

Apprehension mixed with pleasure. The water swirled, holding me in place. My arousal intensified. My pussy buzzed.

The stimulation started me. I awoke from the trance, fighting what was happening. Nothing was there. Was that real? I swam to the edge, to regain control.

I looked around, trying to make sense of it. Across the lagoon, I saw a great, fantastical plant. It had a thick stalk, large leaves, and a flower in the center. The flower had two enormous, green, plush petals, like a bed.

I crawled onto it and fell asleep. The soft bed embraced me as I drifted. My body buzzed again with euphoric arousal. Velvet fingers caressed. My pussy moistened. “Yes!” I cried out, lost in a deep, dreamlike state.

The pleasure grew more intense. My control-driven mind struggled to comprehend but didn’t want it to stop. Curiosity pushed in, like an unwanted intruder. Suddenly I awoke, discovering myself enveloped between the two large flower petals, like a giant Venus Flytrap capturing its prey. I fought to somehow escape the spellbinding captivity.  The plant spit me out, naked, in the mud.

I had never experienced anything more pleasurable, yet scary, beyond my control. I was still dizzy from the imminent climax. How was that possible?

I laid rejected, like many dates. I felt defeated.  I gazed at the exotic plant, lagoon, and jungle. I realized I’d been fighting the beauty around me since arriving. Could surrender bring new possibilities? I wrestled with the possibility – and myself, the rest of the day in paradise.

As the sun set, I entered back into the effervescent lagoon. The coolness of the water strangely warmed my naked body. I dropped my head back, letting the cascading waterfall pour over me. The lagoon swirled, holding me in place as the pleasure grew.

“Oh, yes,” I said, voicing my willing permission.

My body hummed from growing arousal. My mind dizzied, blissfully. I took deep cleansing breaths. I basked in the pleasure. My body trembled in anticipation!

Then it stopped.

“Oh, no! Don’t stop!” I demanded. The louder I got, the quieter the waters became.

 I relinquished. “Have your way,” I cried out.

The waters swirled again. I gasped. “Oh, yes!” I whispered. My dark nipples rose. “It’s happening.”

It brought and held me at the very edge of erotic nirvana. I didn’t know such extreme, sustained pleasure was possible. My head spun, in dizzying euphoria. The swirling waters held me in place. It was only taunting me for what was yet to come.

Vines pulled me toward the giant flower.  I stepped out of the lagoon and stood naked before the regal plant. Its plush, petal bed lay before me as if offering another opportunity. Keira’s knowing smile flashed across my mind, as I heard Geeta’s words echo: “the greatest act of control, is surrender.”

I laid myself in the center of the large, natural bed. My heart thundered in my chest, no longer from fear but from anticipation. Arousal grew. It was impossible to know what would happen next, or how this would end. But, this was real. I looked up, confident. The enormous, soft petal lowered to envelop my willing, naked body, promising what was only possible by my complete surrender.