I savored every second of those hard-earned Dominican Republic vacations in my luxury suite. After a year saving, three weeks of paradise. Acclimated to the heat, I lounged on the beach all afternoon, eyes devouring bronzed bodies in tiny bikinis. Sun dipped low. Time for the open-air beach bar.
Rustic white wood paillote. Square bar island stocked with colorful liquors. I slid onto a high stool. Spotted her: voluptuous métisse, liana body, mini white shorts, knotted tee under her full breasts, skin gleaming dark. Shaved head, predatory vibe.
The Fever
“Miss?” No response. “Miss, please?” She whipped around, black eyes pinning me. Towering at 6 feet. I froze.
“I… a rum cocktail, please.” She stared. “Do you speak English?”
“OK, I got it.” Her authority nailed me. Turned her back. I ogled her athletic frame, prominent ass. She spun. “Hey, stop eyeing my ass like meat! Want a striptease too?”
Stunned, my conqueror facade crumbled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend.”
“Offend? You think I feel awkward? Apologize properly—to ME.” She poured rum over crushed ice, mint, lime. “Drink and get lost.”
I gulped it, coughed fire. Left ten bucks. She pocketed it. “No change, right?”
“Y-yeah.” Sweat glistened on her. Wet tee hinted at bare breasts. Tiny belly roll at shorts’ waist. Authoritarian goddess. Out of my league—imagined her with ebony gods, massive cocks.
“You tourists think women wait for you. Not me. I decide who, when, how.”
“Tempting program.”
“Follow and obey?”
Rum fired me up. “Deal.”
“Last pontoon, 1 AM, end of shift. On time.”
Hours on sand, desire swelling. Moonlit pontoon. Her there, leaning. “Punctual. Good. Blindfold now.”
“Why?”
“My boat home. No stalking.”
“You might beg me back.”
“Cocky.” Rough cloth over eyes. Led me. Wood creaked. Rocker of boat. Narrow stairs. Moist cabin.
“Strip!”
“No chat?”
“Naked. Now.” Heart pounded. Obeyed. Sat. Wrists bound tight. Blindfold off. She loomed, hands on hips.
“Less cocky now?”
Excited, wary. “What’s next?”
“See that cock harden.” Flaccid, sweaty. She gripped, stroked firm. It surged.
“No cock resists me.” Veins throbbed.
The Blaze
Pulley yanked wrists skyward. Tiptoes, cock jutting.
“Nice dick for a tourist jerk. Be good, maybe I’ll care.”
She caressed cheek, squeezed shaft. Back turned. Tee dropped. Shorts shimmied off hips. Naked glory: firm ass, perfect curve. Spun: proud tits, erect nipples on dark areolas. Thighs spread, thick black bush.
“Like? Worthy?”
Bodies collided. Sweat-slick. Cock crushed against her bushy mound. Tits mashed chest. Hips rolled, grinding. Slid thighs around my shaft. Belly circles, my chest hair rasping nipples. Nearly came. She clamped glans, thumb on frenulum. Edge pulled back.
“Not yet. My pleasure first.”
Squeezed balls. “Respect me.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Fetched chrome hook, ball-tipped. Behind me, pressed anus. Cord to pulley. Pulled. Groan escaped. Prostate teased.
“Like it now?”
Pleasure bloomed. She hoisted legs over shoulders. Pussy to mouth: musky sweat, urine tang. Huge clit, 2-3 inches.
“Lick good.”
Nose in bush. Lapped lips, soaked fur. Teased, avoided clit. “Eat it!”
Drove tongue in, up slit, sucked clit. She flooded, thighs crushed. Bit lips. She screamed, raked nails down chest. Legs buckled. Hook plunged prostate. Pain-pleasure explosion.
“Resistant. Good.” Tabouret with two 4-inch dildos.
Yanked hook, rammed one in my ass. Straddled other in hers. Guided my cock into her pussy. Dual penetration. She orgasmed instantly.
The Blaze
Flesh fused. She rode: vertical thrusts, hip waves. My cock churned inside. Ass pegged prostate waves. Bit her neck. She chained climaxes—clit, ass.
Prostate orgasms ripped me. Finally, guttural roar, spurted deep. She milked every pulse. Minutes of fire.
The Ashes
Cords cut. Collapsed, sweat-mingled. She softened in my arms.
“Wild hospitality.”
“Shut up, hold me—or I restart.”
“Maybe I want that…”
Slept to waves on her fishing boat, lost in tropics.