I could tell when I was about to get a new neighbor because one of the cleaners would turn up and do her stuff in whichever cabin it was to be. The cabins were in a big, ramshackle property near the beach in Panama and I had come across them while stuck in the country, waiting for paperwork to come through to go somewhere else. I had intended to stay just a week or two but it had turned into months and there was nothing to do but wait.

There were half a dozen cabins around a communal outdoor eating/drinking/lounging area and most of the time there was just me there, but you would get the odd night or two, mainly at weekends, when a family would arrive for a few days by the sea.

The cleaners were mother and daughter, Mili and Tina. Tina was a typical Panamanian girl; coffee coloured skin, native American features, short and nicely rounded. They didn’t seem to do thin in Panama, and that was fine by me.

Her mother, Mili, was similar but shorter and broader. A cartoonist would draw her shoulders as wide as her body was long. And she was quite fleshy in a mumsy way. She always wore a pink cap pulled down over her eyes, which were further guarded by big, square glasses. And she had this pair of bright blue shorts of some soft, stretchy fabric. Not lycra and not tight, just  stretchy like t-shirts are. She always wore these shorts too, and I found myself half-wondering if she washed them a lot or just changed her knickers frequently. Or maybe her body just didn’t ooze and dribble like most do.

As the gate rattled and opened this day, I looked up from my laptop to see Mili arranging the chain and padlock. Then she walked – a sort of brisk waddle, really – to cabin two and went inside. After ten minutes she reemerged with a tray of cutlery and began polishing things at a table near where I was sitting. We had never had a conversation for the simple reason that I couldn’t speak Spanish and she couldn’t speak English, but we said hello and how are you and goodbye.

I had noticed, too, that she would always adjust her bra straps when she was near me, rummaging around inside her top. I wasn’t sure if I made her aware of her breasts or if she subconsciously wanted me to look at them. Either way, there was something in it for both of us, which is how it should be.

Sure enough, she put the knives and forks down and started fiddling inside her old brown shirt. She never looked at me when she did this, which I interpreted as strangely incriminating. She would always do it, knew she was doing it, didn’t actually need to do it and studiously avoided my eyes while she did it. It’s one of those things we will never know for sure and doesn’t even matter, but an anthropologist or someone from another planet could probably explain.

Mili then walked over to the communal washing machine, which was in a kind of cupboard, and called me over. To get in the cupboard meant standing very close to her, and our stomachs touched. The flash of electricity that you get from close proximity between two mutually attracted people flashed through me like a premonition of an orgasm.

We didn’t leap apart because there was nowhere to leap to, so our eyes locked together for an instant and we both smiled nervously.

Was I supposed to kiss her now? You always get the feeling that the woman knows the rules but they’re different every time and you just have to guess.

I put my hand on the back of her neck and leaned down, beneath the peak of her cap and the big spectacles, to her gently parted lips. She allowed herself to be kissed and only participated very slightly, but her stomach was cooperating and her breasts pushed against me too.

Mili was warm and comfortable to hold, and as she was clearly as keen on this as I was, I took her by the hand and led her into my cabin. I took off her cap to begin undressing her and saw a loose coil of long black hair now flecked with grey. I unbuttoned her shirt and she flung it into a corner and turned around so I could remove her bra. Then we held each other again and I caressed her lovely brown skin and felt her quite large breasts.

My hand moved down to her abundant bush and the smell of her rose to meet me. She was sweet and slightly salty, the aroma of fresh sweat and a recently-showered  crotch and armpits.

Mili unzipped my jeans and thrust her hand into my underpants, encircling my hard cock gently but firmly. I got myself naked and we stood together, enjoying our nakedness. My hands roamed her body and I stroked her wide bottom and ran my fingers into her crack. She did the same to me and we gazed into each other’s eyes.

Our inability to communicate through speech made our physical union a strangely primitive feeling. It was as though we were representatives of the two great tribes, man and woman, brought together to mate by people of another species.

Mili lay on the lumpy old bed, on her back with her legs slightly parted and looked at me tenderly. I lay between her legs and played with her moist woman’s equipment, sliding my middle finger into her beautiful, inviting, age-old cunt. I was feeling not just her but all her female ancestors, like an explorer seduced by a woman of the forest hundreds of years earlier.

She raised her head again to draw me into another kiss and as our mouths met to form one new hot, airy cavern, my cock slid easily into her furry hole. I still had the  peculiar idea that we had been put in this position to satisfy some alien curiosity about how humans procreated and I couldn’t shake off the feeling of pride in the way our species had refined the act into a long drawn-out mutual entertainment rather than the vigorous, brutal, unsentimental  short bout that other animals went through as a kind of formality.

Every other species under the sun and many which saw no sun on their distant planets could only watch enviously as this man, this lucky bastard, ploughed his penis in and out of this wonderful woman’s sumptuous love tunnel.

Mili stroked my back lovingly but I could only imagine what she was feeling, although I knew she was blissful.  Perhaps she had been looking forward to this moment even more than I had. I had no way of knowing what she had experienced in the past, whether she had had a beautiful sexual relationship with a man who delighted in arousing and assuaging her feminine lust.

For now, though, she was mine. This ordinary woman in the middle of nowhere was making love with this ordinary man who had appeared out of thin air and about whom she knew nothing. For these few minutes while we lay together, basting each other with our juices and secretions, we were Adam and Eve, doing what came naturally, and nothing, nobody could touch us.

I was determined that our union would be a perfect one, even if it only happened once, so although I was dangerously close to coming I held on and tried to poke her in extra sensitive places. She seemed to understand this and also contorted her body in the desperate search for orgasm. Finally she got so close she squealed and gave one final writhe before squirting her stuff on the cock, deep within her. I felt it like twin jets on my shiny head, a sort of anointing that was perfectly appropriate for the occasion and drove me over the edge.

I pumped my semen into Mili’s divine depths as if wanting to make sure she got pregnant, although I would only really want that if she wanted it, and I had no way of knowing that. Anyway, she drew from me as much spunk as I could muster and I was sure he was aware it was a special delivery at the end of a unique and fabulous experience.

We lay together and cuddled with a romantic intensity that is quite unusual in the animal world of sex once the thrilling climax is past. We kissed as if we had just started and we stroked each other with mute, expressive hands.