Journey to Another Life Ch. 10

Nikki couldn't stop smiling as she led Charles to the cabin. Her fingers and lips tingled. She felt like a child whose parents had given her permission to the very thing that none of the other kids could do, the thing that had consumed her thoughts for such a long time that part of her felt like she'd already experienced it.

And yet, nervousness accompanied her adrenaline rush as she reached the door. This was no simple seduction like the one with the two guys on St. Martin. This was more than sex. Totally new territory in every way. But it was territory she desperately longed to traverse. She let go of Charles's hand and went inside peeling her dress off as she went in one easy motion while sliding her tiny panties off with her other hand she turned to face him dressed only in her heels.

When the tall black man entered the cabin and saw that she was already standing naked before him, she saw all the emotions she'd hoped to see cross his face: first shock, then fear, then longing, and finally, relief.

"Nikki," he whispered. A wonderful husky quality infused his voice.

"I couldn't wait," she said, just before she stepped forward and entered his cabin. He'd barely shut the door behind her when they were in each other's arms, continuing the kiss that had ended so prematurely less than an hour before.

The connection between them now was unfettered by trepidation or fear. She felt his desire flowing through his body and coming off his skin. He'd kissed her with some slight reservation on deck, probably leery of being attacked by Ed. Now, though, he held nothing back, and as his tongue sought hers, everything she felt for him came back to her in a surge of heat from him.

He hadn't had time to slip out of his clothes and still worse his shorts and lightweight shirt. Pressed against him in their passionate embrace, their skin touched in the spots that the clothes didn't cover. Her hands worked quickly to expose more of his body—she yanked at his sleeves and fumbled to untie his belt. She needed more, wanted more, demanded more. Seconds later, the exquisite smoothness of him was hers to enjoy, from the chiseled chest to the firm abdominals.

It was true that his mouth surpassed any she'd ever known for pure sensuality. It was also true that his height and stature made her feel safer than she'd ever felt with any other man. But it was that cock—that huge, wondrous cock—that pushed her toward delirium.

The image of it in the shower a few days before had kept her pussy moist ever since. She would get weak whenever she recalled its amazing proportions and the contortions that might be necessary to fit it into any hole on her body.

And now, here it was, pressing against her belly, assuring her that soon it would be hers. Was she ready to accommodate a cock this size? Could any woman do it and not hurt herself? Throughout their kiss, she prepared herself to look at the cock she'd been wet for all day, the cock that was now hard and perhaps even bigger than it was before.

His big hands cupped her ass cheeks while he kissed her. Taking a deep breath, she moved her hand to his massive meat and was so stunned by what she found, that she broke their kiss and stepped away from him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, panic blazing in his eyes.

She felt her whole body flush with embarrassment. Her eyes were fixed on all twelve inches of his hard-on. She had never stammered in the face of a woody before but this! This was something entirely new.

"I'm sorry, Charles. It's just that you're so ... large," she whispered. Even as she said it, though, she wanted it between her lips. She wanted to kneel before it and anoint it with kisses of adoration. But she couldn't move. Its size transfixed her.

He let out a low, deep laugh. "Don't tell me you're afraid," he said affectionately.

"I ... I just never knew they came in this size," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "It's like a work of art, Charles. A colossal work of art."

He laughed and crossed his arms, then clenched and manipulated a few key muscles that triggered a sweeping wave of the artwork in question. She giggled in appreciation but his display of control actually heightened her nervousness.

"I can only guess what other tricks you can do with that thing," she said, finally getting to her knees because she suddenly had no other option.

She got very close to it, examining it as if she expected to find some aspect of it that would prove beyond any doubt that it wasn't human, after all. But as her eyes roamed the ebony head the size of workman's boot heel, she knew what it must be like for a man to come face to face with a truly beautiful woman. She understood the breathless immobility, the loss of control, the complete abandonment of the mind. This was everything she'd ever fantasized about yet now that it was before her, bigger and more beautiful than even her imagination had concocted, she was torn between staring at it and consuming it whole.

"Suck me, Nikki."

His voice, so deep and commanding, shook her from her reverie and propelled her firmly into the zone her body screamed for. She brought her face to the base of his monster cock, extended her tongue, and touched it to his shaft. As she followed a thick, pronounced vein up toward the tip, she took hold of his hard, muscled thighs.

From that moment on, not a single thought formed in her head. She was a bundle of hungers, drives, and needs, feeding them by whatever means were necessary.

She'd never opened her mouth so wide to accept cock—ever. But the pain didn't even register. Her lips were pulled to their limit and her jaw ached but that cock had to slide down her throat. She employed every trick she knew to relax her throat to accept every inch of Charles, and gradually, her gag reflex gave up and his tip tickled the part of her gullet that had previously only known food and drink.

But with that accomplishment came the need for more penetration. They seemed to realize it at the same time because suddenly, they were moving toward the bed, groping and kissing as they went. She instinctively laid on her back—she wanted to watch him when he fucked her.

He approached her with care, a loving gleam in his eyes that dissipated her fear even more. Holding his cock like the club that it essentially was, he pointed it as her dripping cunt. She prepared herself and spread her legs wider, but he surprised her by running his fingers along her wet pussy lips first.

"Fantastic," he muttered. "So juicy."

"Fuck me, Charles."

He was as gentle as he needed to be, but more important, he was as powerful as she expected him to be. His dick drove into her wetness carefully but it traveled at a speed that made her shout with joy. The sensations from her pussy forced her eyes to the back of her head. His strong hands gripped her calves and held them by the side of her face. He pushed deeper—she called out louder and longer.

She was her pussy. Utterly and entirely, she was the stretched pussy walls, the overtaxed hole, the slammed cervix. His friction was more intense because of the way he'd spread her, forcing the nerve endings in her cunt to congregate to the surface and absorb the relentless in-and-out motion he delivered.

She didn't know where her orgasm had begun. Nor was she sure where it officially ended. All she really knew was that for an extended period, the sensations that emanated from her pussy vacillated between sublime pleasure and magnificent pain.

When she'd lost her virginity years ago, the transition hadn't been all that memorable. Nothing truly changed within her that she could measure or even describe. But now, with Charles, the completeness of her surrender brought her close to tears. She was being plundered by a man with a cock so enormous, it would be impossible not to feel the effects of it. He "took" her as she longed to be taken, as every woman longs to be taken, in a sweeping blur of madness and affection, of respect and frenzy. Instead of losing something, she had the astonishing feeling that she'd gained passage into a new strata of womanhood.

And as this realization infiltrated her semi-conscious mind, Charles withdrew from her hole and erupted in a spectacular display of pleasure. Come shot up in obscene arcs above her body and landed in random spots on her face, breasts, and tummy. Ropes of it found their way into her hair, and one particularly large glob splattered prominently on her left cheek. His sac was even fuller than she could have hoped with hot, eager come. Without thinking, she rubbed all of it into her skin, grinning contentedly as she did so.

He smiled at her in a combination of pride and modesty. She propped herself up on her elbows to get another look at his prize penis.

"My God," she said, caught up in another wave of awe. "You leave me speechless."

"That's good, isn't it?" He held his black meat in his hand like it was a sausage he wasn't sure he wanted to cook yet.

"Oh, yes."

He laid by her side and she positioned herself to press her thigh against his cock. It felt reassuring to have it there.

His hand covered her breast. "I neglected these," he pointed out.

"Oh, I think there's plenty of time to make amends," she told him.

He brought his mouth to her alert, pink nipple. Even his tongue is huge, she noted silently as it licked her. The sight of his black face and pink tongue triggered another round of hunger in her, albeit less crazed than the first one.

"Can I ride you, Charles?" she asked, more out of lust than courtesy.

He rolled over on his back. "I can think of nothing I'd rather do more."

His overgrown nightstick stood at such rigid attention, it was hard to believe he'd just come so prodigiously. She was sore from him being on top, but no amount of discomfort could dampen her desire for him. Her pussy had never felt so alive, and as a result, neither had she.

She mounted him slowly, easing him in incrementally. The insides of her thighs were still wet with her own juices but she could no longer smell only herself. The scent in the room was a heady mixture of both of them—her pussy, his sweat, her perspiration, his balls.

His balls.

That was the addition that she needed at this moment. Now that she had half his cock up her sodden hole, she reached behind her to grab a handful of his sac. Naturally, what he had overflowed in her small palm, but she held on to what she could and massaged as the circumstances would allow. He moaned.

"Oh, Nikki. Every spot that you touch feels like it's on fire."

"Good," she said, near bursting with excitement and satisfaction.

"Can you take all of me up inside you?" He really seemed concerned about her capacity, which she found touching.

"I aim to try," she said as yet another inch disappeared in her pussy.

He extended his long, strong arms and covered her tits with his palms. He squeezed. "You have the loveliest titties."

"Thank you. You have no idea how much they've been wanting you to notice them."

"Oh, I noticed them, all right," he said. "At least, I did when your beautiful arse or legs weren't competing for my attention."

Three-quarters of his cock sat inside her now and she felt certain that, with a little more effort, she could get him completely in. If she had done it on her back, she could definitely do it on top of him.

But then he began to lift and thrust her hips, destroying her careful maneuvering and pushing her yet again to fits of unfocused blurs of intense orgasms. Already he seemed to know what she could accommodate—he was reading her body as if they'd been lovers for weeks or months or even years.

How sweet he is, she thought. How amazing and sexy and hard and masterful.

But he isn't Ed.

And that, she realized, was his one and only flaw.

Now that his gargantuan meat had stopped impaling her, and their wild hungers satiated for at least the moment, her mind wandered to that strange and bizarre thought.

He's not Ed.

At first, that had been Charles's appeal. He was big and black and looked like he could fuck incessantly without even stopping for water. But he was sweet and kind, too, which distinguished him from boy toys she might otherwise have been tempted to play with. She'd wanted a little romance. Ed had finally given his approval. And now she'd seduced the object of her desire and enjoyed a series of sexual positions and delights most women could only dream about.

And it seemed to have taken all of that—every step—to bring her to the conclusion that as wonderful as Charles was, she could never love him quite as she loved Ed. But she did have strong feelings for him and realized that in some ways she possibly wanted him just as much or even more then Ed.

She ran her hand along the chiseled planes of his torso, still incredulous that she and he were finally alone and naked together. When she glanced down at his cock, what looked like a flashlight rested against his powerful thigh. Even when flaccid, his genitals appeared ready for action.

And yet she knew that more of her heart lay with the man that was in the guest cabin across the hall, with the man she'd married only days before. The man who treated her to this beautiful cruise, gave her permission to indulge her fantasies (which just happened to coincide nicely with his own), and trusted her enough to return to him.

No man, no matter how impressive his penile girth or length, could ever win her heart as completely as Ed had. She'd always known she loved him more than anything or anyone she'd ever known, and somehow, at this moment, she understood her feelings with a new and sparkling clarity.

But with that realization came another. Now that she understood that Charles could be the romantic and sexual outlet she'd hoped without changing her feelings for Ed, she had a new appreciation of his smooth, ebony skin, his unfathomably huge dick, and his luscious lips. If he'd made her salivate in the past, now he inspired voracious hunger. Her attraction was now not as tempered by tenderness—now it existed independently of sweet, romantic notions about hurting Ed. She now knew she could take Charles as a proper lover. She looked again at him, thrilling her eyes and loins at once.

She had just given herself permission to get very, very nasty with Mr. Baker.

And the very first order of business, she decided, as the very scent of his balls and the satiny finish of his skin taunted her toward action, was to taste every bit of whatever this man had to offer. He'd already fed her cunt—now she would have him feed her mouth.

She moved quickly, sitting up so she could employ both hands to roll him onto his stomach.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, surprised by her sudden activity. "What are you doing?" Underneath his good-natured question, she sensed reluctance or hesitation. Was he shy, all of a sudden?

But she prevailed, of course. Soon he was face down on the bed and she had insinuated her face into his delectable ass crack. He tried to wiggle away but she wouldn't let him.

"Oh, no, you don't!" She giggled. "I'm going to lick you into oblivion if I have to overpower you to do it!" Her tongue delved into his dark, firm cleavage. As he groaned in response, she instantly understood why he had tried to push her away. The distinct aroma of sweat and shit wafted up to her nostrils. Normally, the combination would have prompted her to roll him back onto his back. Why not now? Because it was something new of his for her to taste.

She spread his cheeks wide and inhaled. When she swirled her tongue around his opening, he squirmed. She was going to eat his ass until one or both of them lost their minds.

With his cheeks under her palms, she rimmed his hole, growing more aroused by the minute. She wanted everything he produced—his come, his piss, his shit, his sweat. She would eat it all. Her tongue circled his opening close to a hundred times, and with each swirl, she felt him relax a teeny bit more. At last, he pushed his ass toward her face in an unspoken plea for penetration. She was only too happy to oblige. Rolling up the sides of her tongue to form a miniature spear, she shoved it into his sphincter. In so doing, she got a whole new dose of his unique, personal taste, and the sharpness of it made her feel not only depraved but very, very hot.

She tongue-fucked his ass while keeping her own up high. She liked the position—it made her feel slutty and free. Her nose only smelled his ass now, so deep in his crack had she burrowed. But her tongue felt the loosening of his muscles and her chin felt the tightening of his balls. It was time to flip him over.

His body seemed to follow behind the mindful maneuvers of his cock, which had grown to its famously untenable size. Nikki briefly wondered how he'd been able to lay on it without experiencing pain. Now that he was on his back, it was a baton pointed at the ceiling.

She knew that he was seconds away from spewing and she wanted every drop. She grabbed his balls but with her other hand, she pulled his fingers to her cunt, knowing that the moment he felt her juicing for him, he'd come. She was absolutely right.

With the smell of his ass now ingrained in the skin of her cheeks and chin, she inhaled deeply as she stuffed his cock in her mouth. She still couldn't take as much of it as she longed to—he was so fucking huge that his knob alone took up half her mouth. But she opened her throat as wide as she could so when the gush of semen came, she felt it ooze down her gullet. Every hot pump of the stuff splashed against the back of her throat. She tried to mix it with the residual taste of ass and winced with pleasure at the nastiness of it all.

Little did Nikki know that when her ass was tilted upward in wanton abandonment, Ed had been watching. He'd seen, through the deck hatch, every move—from the moment that Nikki had decided she loved Ed and wanted to taste all that Charles had to offer to the astounding explosion of the black man's dick into her mouth.

His voyeurism had begun innocently enough. Hadn't it, Ed wondered? After all, he'd waited up on deck for a while, surprised that she had decided to take Charles to their cabin. He then went down to the guest cabin but the faint noises aroused him beyond sleep. He'd needed fresh air and a walk up on deck. Who could blame him for peering into the deck hatch above the cabin? The lights had been on, which was virtually an invitation on a boat where only three people resided, wasn't it?

Every gripping instinct in his gut told him she and Charles would be there for him to see. He could have turned away, but he hadn't wanted to. He'd peered through the deck hatch to get a myopic but riveting view of how Nikki spent her evening. No wonder she wanted Charles in their cabin. She'd probably forgotten about him completely. Forgotten that he'd be waiting, missing her, longing to hear how things went. Well now he didn't need to hear about it. He'd witnessed every filthy minute of it. It didn't matter that he'd missed the first few hours—he doubted they were much different.

Would he ever forget Nikki's face eclipsed by the curve of Charles's ass? Or the way her upturned ass begged for fucking while she ate the black man out? And how would his mind's eye ever obliterate the size of Charles's cock and the way Nikki gobbled it up?

He'd watched, yes, and that was probably bad enough. But the puddle of come that now glistened on the deck in the darkness betrayed him. He should have waited until he was back in the cabin to jack off, but what difference did it ultimately make? The sight of Nikki and that astounding black dick—it had been too much. He'd rubbed his meat raw watching the ebony and ivory bodies go at it. And there was no denying that the vision of his wife's mouth filled with black cock pushed him over the edge with alarming speed.