Seduction at Koko Beach Ch. 03

I wish I could tell you my humilleashun ended rite there on Day 3. That I went on to have a relaksin time at the resort. Baby boy, life can't be that eazy. It's takin me some time to heal from a hemmroid I got after one of them lifeguards popped my pooper at Koko Beach. You aksed me in your last e-mail if I would bend over to show my puckered flower for you on webcam, but I wimped out. My mind kepped rollin the tape of Miguel's gettin me sorer with each thrust of that dammed Prince Albert. And how Dev didn't break my tooths, I just can't explane that.

I can still feel the sting of rejekshun -- how them two guys abandoned me there on my bunched up Virgo beach towel. I guess they didn't care that I was watchin them shakin off their limp dicks. They sho wasn't ringin no cum out them dicks cuz their loads was all mixed with the sand coatin my butt, back, belly and beaver. As I rolled around on that shoddy ekcuse for a beach towel, a virgin in the zodiac sense only, I vowed never to try to sunbayth again. However, I wasn't too quick in gathrin up my sandy belongins, not to mention my deeminushed pride.

Surrenderin to them brazen buddies left me arowzed beneath the pain. I dezired to get myself off. For the moment, I fawt off the fobya of gettin pinched by a crab and layed back on the warm, moist sand that I done got fucked on minutes earlier. Sure, I stopped every now and then to look left, rite, behind and yonder, but any girl worth her stuff nows that the stop-start of self-plezhurin amps up the excitement. I always rite to you how I like to carress around my clitty before I apply gentil pressure on it. That's what I done there on the shore at Koko Beach.

With only the tip of my right index finger, I made the tiniest circle on one of my large outer lips. That was enuff to send fresh lube leakin out my pussy. I dabbed my finger just inside the entrance to my fun house, brawt it up to my lips for a taste and felt my nostrils flare with lust. I returned my finger to my vulva, makin wider circles on the outer lips and teasin the inner ones as if my finger was a feather. I speeded up my circular motions, usin more fingers, and alternated with back and forth movements.

It was a warm mornin, but the sensashun of the back of my hand slitely brushin against the hood of my clit made me shudder. It's always a thrill to focus on my vulva and pussy as I bring myself to the edge of orgazim and then to distract my mind by plezhurin other parts of my body. So I tangelled my fingers in my hair, carressed my shoulders, rubbed the outer length of my thighs. I was abzorbed in a erotic zone but was conshuss of my byutiful, natural environment. Or maybe I was caught up in a spell that I cast upon myself just by steppin on the sand in Koko Beach.

Listenin over and over to the rithimic sounds of the ocean was a magikally sexual expeereeance to me. The waves was crashin on the shore like so many lovers done banged my servex over the years. Bubbles was fizzin in the waves' foamy remnants. Birds sqwawked to each other as they patrolled the clear blue sky, perhaps more than a few of them tryin to mate. I wanted to hold off my climaks a bit longer, but I decided to get with Nature's rithim, the tempo of life. Nobody else was in site, or they was doin a good job of keepin quiet while peepin on my action and yankin their cocks.

Strokin the stalk of my clit, I pumped my thick ass up and down in a slow, seductive rithim. I could feel that tingly plezhure from my clit and G-spot, thru my ass, and across my tummy. I was so enthralled by the sand's wet grit against my soft, dimply bottom that all I wanted to do was thrash about the earth. In a state of estacie, ain't it funny how we don't care who's watchin us -- up close or with binnokyulers -- or filmin us? If a crab had a poked his two beady eyes out a sand hole, he would a got such a hardon spyin my arowzal on his territory that his shell would a cracked.

I almost cummed on my hands then and there, but I held off a few seconds, then flipped over. Rubbin my swollen hard nipples on the caked sand, I found the friction overwhelmin. It was like I was fuckin the earth, but in a good way. My backside was still coated with sand but now was exposed to the sun and ocean mist -- more of a turn-on than a guy sprayin his jizz in a triangle pattern from my back to both asscheeks. With my butt churnin in the sea breeze, I fyureeusly humped one hand, then the other, while strokin my vulva up and down. I could feel my sandy ass quiverin as it picked up speed. Like any ritual, the more the devotion, the greater the passhun.

In the distance, a man and a woman was talkin in their own passhunit state, and despite my arowzal, I could tell the man was ticklin her by the way she was shreekin and laffin. I just couldn't give up my groove. Besides, the pair's presence on the beach was a hellified turn-on. My hornyness was overrulin my morality. When I could make out the couple's conversashun, I grew bolder, becomin more vocal while I humped and twisted around in the sand. I carressed the tender area outside my analhole to fuel my erotic engine, then turned all the attention to my payshunt clitty. My glans was so sensitive and becomin irritated by the sand. I was gwan have to fuck my pussy ... with sumthin.

Gropin around my beach bag, I found I had two opshuns: my cell phone or my botteld soda. I emptied the soda in a sand hole, screwed on the cap, all without losin the sexy mood. If anything, I was more excited. It didn't take long to regain momentum, layin on my back this time. I can't tell you when the couple's voices went silent, but while I was thrustin that soda bottel in and out of my cooch, I couldn't care less. Once I was nice and penetrated, I tossed the bottle flipped over again. Butt clappin in the air, I serviced my clitty real good. My thumb and index finger was workin faster than a textile weaver. Ooooh, chile! I cummed in the gush on the wet earth, moanin a good long while in my soliterry afterglow. That pain in my ass done drifted out to sea.

The next mornin, I waked up smilin from a plezzent dream. I dreamed I was a happy tropikal fish swimmin in the turkoyze waves at Koko Beach. My eyes opened to another sunburst day. But in my hotel room, it was mighty cool as I was in my birthday suit. Lyin on the comftable bed, I felt refreshed and could feel the A/C blowin air thru the gap in my front tooths. My dark nips was all perked up from the steddy chill, so I massajed them real slow till my tit flesh grew warm. Till I could feel and smell that familiar ooze from my pussy. Inside my head I was sayin, "Enuff a this shit." I remembered that jerkin off with the dammed remote was how I done got fucked by the adultruss preecher on my first day at the Carribbean resort. No matter how secure the new double locks was on the door connectin the rooms, I needed to switch gears.

On the edge of the bed, facin the window, I said a quick prayer: "Lawd, pleeze don't let me get fucked on the beach today." I mussed up my hair, smelled my fonky armpits and jumped off the bed with the joy of feelin alive and free in a faraway place like Koko Beach. Wasn't nobody gwan spy on me there. It's not a major tourist attrakshun. In fact, I learnt about it from a former lover, a sub who liked me to dress tits to toes in black leather so I could spank his stinky, diapered ass to the Motown sounds of "Baby Love." He told me that his mamma met his daddy there a long time ago and that she beleeved the part of the Carribbean Sea that flowed into the resort area was brewed with mystikal elements intensified by the harsh sun. Stink-Stink's mamma deffinitely screwed up her son's sexuality, but she was correct in deskribin to him the resort's supernatural allure this way: You never leave Koko Beach the same person you was befo.

Not that Koko Beach is one of them heedonistic places or such; the violence that done happened on me over the first three days was out of the ordinary. Now, don't be shuttin off your computer, honey, gettin all upset cuz I'm startin to sound like a prude. But I ain't no ho, at least not on purpose. Suga, don't think cuz I spreaded my pussy on that webcam for your bulgin-eyes-only means I'd go to a nudy resort on purpose. I can hear you sayin, " What this chick talkin bout: 'Nudy'? Don't she mean 'naturist'?"

This might supprize you, but I put my thonged foot down to nudy, naked, naturist resorts. With those getaways, it's like a chick or a guy is aksin for sumthin omminuss to happen to their ass -- litterrally. It done been way too long since that old serpent made Adam and Eve's fig leafs do a Hoodeenee. I ain't the only sinner eatin apples or pommigrannits from the Tree of Nowledje, theeze days. So if folks spot my bare ass walkin by, that's like me wearin a "fuck me now" sign on my back. There ain't enuff birth control in the world that could save me from makin another Stink-Stink if I had the awdacity to go to a nudy resort.

Gettin back to what I was tellin you about that hotel room, and the feelin of rejoovenashun that was rushin thru me -- I was secure in the thawt that hotel security installed extra locks on the door that connected my room to the preacher man's. I grabbed the three dimpelled sheets of "Koko Beach Hotel" stashunerry remainin on the pad from the nightstand, and jotted down some activiteez I might enjoy later that day. My stomach grumbelled under my tits like a neglected dog, so I scribbelled "tennis, salon, maybe spa treatment? ... disco," and then washed up.

Sportin a halter of lemon yellow, with an eyelet pattern, white denims and my favorite gold beaded thong sandals, I strutted in the direkshun of the hotel's breakfast room. I was lookin' forward to an all-inclusive pigfest on the 10th floor. Unlike other single chicks my age, I was lookin' for love like on "Urban Cowboy." Yeah, baby boy, you too young to remember that flick, right? Remind me in our weekend e-mail exchange to ride your wild bronco, and you'll expeereeance the best parts - besides the great makeout and line-dancin' tunes -- of that '80s movie.

No sooner did I plant my plump behind in a fancy chair did I get the eye from a 20-sumthin couple at 3 o'clock who was sittin at a table for four. There was sumthin sleezy about them winkin at me in such a charmin atmusfere enhanced by Europeean classical music. It was like Mozart was gwan pop out the speakers and slap the bejeezus out of the pair. It's amazin, tho, how I seen the chick and dude at all. I recall strugglin with my chair while sort a checkin behind it to make sure peepel had enuff space to walk pass. When I lookted up, Mr and Mrs. McGrinny was just grinnin in my direkshun like I was they own private side show. I could feel my eyebrows knittin together cuz I was wondering why two peepel had their asses parked at a table for four?

Usually I don't fall for the "Oh, come on. We can't let you eat all alone." But I had done got abused my first three days at Koko Beach, so I needed somebody's pity. "Sure," I told them, and nearly breaked the chair tryin to push away from the table. The server, a bronze, buksum chick with a butt wider than mine, sucked her tooths as she watched me change tables. I heard her mumbel sumthin about, "At least the bitch could a ordered sum juice." I watched her chunky ass waddel away and fantasized about what her juice must taste like. That thawt bust faster than one of them bubbels children blow through a hoop when I heared one of my new friends clear his throte.

"So you like that, hunh?" said the husband.

"Yeah, sometimes I go for the big tuna," I ansered, chucklin away. My cunt snot was poolin in my panties, even tho the inspirashun for the sensashun done shook her hips off to another table.

He laffed like it hurted his lips to smile. I imagined his throte explodin and wished he'd just let go. Then he aksed me, "What's your name, hot thing?"

"Hmmm, you just full a questions, ain't you, suga?" I said. "You can call me Rhonda."

"Ahem," his wife cleared her throte. "I'd love to see two black girls in action." She smiled so wide, like she was showin off a great bleech job at the dentist. What I don't think she noticed was her nips was hard like pebbles against her white polyester blowse. No bra, I thawt to myself. "I've already told Paul this, but I will now share with you," she said before takin in a few deep yoga breaths. "Back in high school, you could say I lost my virginity to a black girl, although I wanted her to stick her tongue all the way in my pussy but she refused." After her repeated confesshun, I stared a hole into her tricky gray eyes, and my mind got a news flash: She's just a married ho.

Still, this white chick was turnin me on. I was in my own world but could hear Laura and Paul chatterin and laffin. Between her stiff tips strainin against her blowse and her pale fingers twirlin her dirty blond hair, I was hooked on the Other. When I look back, maybe I was tired of gettin screwed by guys and needed a gentil touch.

Laura cawt me peepin at her cuz she did the unthinkable next. She stood up and reeched across the table, to the empty place settin, and grabbed a fork, givin me two eyefuls of firm alabaster tit meat with rosy nips. As the knots at the end of my dense tits turned heavy and began to throb, I becomed aware that a halter was a poor choice of outfit. I shot a look at Paul, who saw what I saw and was dribbellin onto his paper placemat. I guess he thawt his wife wood just be a ho in the bedroom -- either theirs or some oreo-cravin black chick's. Laura's face flushed to match the thrush on her neck and ear lobes. Just in time, a male server came over and took our beveraje order. Then we all got up to get our breakfast.

Somewhere between my creamy grits and the couple's golden brown flapjacks, a decijun was made for Laura and I to enjoy a spa treatment in the afternoon. Paul agreed to watch, and then after tellin us, "I'm just joking," he said he would work out at the fitness center. His physique was large and muscular, tho, so I didn't see the point. At least I would have a chance to catch up on that R&R I'd wanted from Day One. Laura wanted to go shoppin first, but I was broke, so I told her I'd meet her at Gentle Touch Spa at 2 p.m.

"Sweetheart, I'll meet you back at the hotel room, say around 5 p.m.? Then we'll get ready for supper," Paul said with a knowin smile.

"Sounds like a plan, babe," Laura agreed. She shared a intimmit kiss and a indiscreet butt carress with her main sqweeze, and he went off to the fitness center.

Turnin her wispy waist in my direkshun, she asked, "Rhonda, what are you going to do to busy yourself?" There was a sparkle in her eyes.

"This is an all-inclusive resort," I said, tryin to move out of her aura, "so I'm gwan for some free tennis. Well, technikally, it ain't free. Besides, I need to work off the grits, egg and sawsage I done gorged on at breakfast."

"Why not join Paul in the fitness center?" she insisted.

"I don't swing that way, suga," I said, then laughed to keep the mood lite.

"You don't have to use the chin-up bars," she said, jokin. "C'mon, we all could just be friends, you know," she said. But she didn't convince this southern gal.

"Look, I don't go workin out with wimmins' huzbandz, OK?" My anser ended the charade and wiped that grin off her face.

Several hours later, I was loungin on what felt like a long beanbag and my eyes were shut beneath cool, crisp cucumber slices. Under a avocaddo mask, I could hear myself moan, "Ahhhh." My white towel was slippin down from my bulgin tits, but I didn't give a fuck. It was all that massagin that Inga was givin my tense shoulders, that was movin the towel around. Hmpf, I bet Inga had a wide grin on her muscular face. While I let that thawt slide away with other tenshun, I heared Laura gasp with plezhure and I couldn't help tellin her, "Oooh, gurrrl, you gettin good relief over there, aren't you?" I didn't hear nothin but more gaspin and an occasional "Oh!" from my new friend, so I figured I'd better mind my own bizness. I did put a question to Inga, whose face I sho was glad I couldn't see: "Could you give me sum of them pleezin feelins my friend is so lucky to get?" All I heard Inga do was snort.

Meanwhile, Laura was silent, so I figured she done went off to sleep. Inga's large hands started neadin my thighs and caffs ruffly. "Eazy now, suga. I'm aware you big girls can't help yourselves, but I don't want you breakin my dammed legs." That made her soften her touches, and when her paws caressed my pelvic rejun under the towel, I instinktively contracted my torso. But it felt so fine, and I told Inga so. "Ohhh, yesss, I am lovin this. I'm putty in your hands, Inga,"

"Very nice, no?" Inga replied in a heavy Swedish accent. She started applyin firmer rubs to my belly, with pinches here and there above my pelvic bone. I quivered in delight and my walls contracted against my will. My jelly creeped out and spread all over that sensitive area between my pussy hole and my pooper. More caresses from Inga, but this time on the top of my hair mound, with her scoldin me, "You must try to keep still, miss." Couldn't she see the sheet on the beanbag bench was soakin wet beneath me? I wondered. My legs was wide open and on either side of the bench. "Yes, I make it feel better that good, yah," she was tellin me in a breathy kind a way. She stopped only to place one more cucumber slice on top a the ones on my eyes. Not bein able to see who was givin me plezhure made the sensashun more intense than any foreplay I'd had with a guy.

Inga put gusto into neadin my mound like she was rollin bread doe. She kept up a steady rithin, lettin a finger travel for a nanosecond to my clit before retreatin to her fist. My hips didn't obey me and lifted to meet her amazin touches. "Ohhh, ohhh" escaped from my lips over and over while she got me teeterin to the edge of orgazim. With one swift move she snatched off the towel that sheelded my tits. I couldn't figure out how she done that cuz on her hands was on my private parts, but I nowed fo sho that I was butt naked in front of her.

"Mmmmm, don't you look tasty," mumbled a voice that sounded like Laura's. I wasn't sho, and my head was swimmin with thawts of sex with a big, bruisin Swedish woman. Hands seemed to multiply. Large, rough hands on my vulva and dainty fingers glidin over my thimbel-hard nipples. "I can't, I can't ... ohhh-ohhh-OHHH! ... do this," I pleeded. But Inga was hummin as if singin, every now and then sayin, "Very good, no?"

Laura seemed dazed cuz all I could hear from her was "Ahhhh, baby" when she wasn't stickin her steamy tong in my ear. She would a kissed me if it wasn't for the mask on my face, and I'm sure she wouldn't want to get avocado mush and dead skin cells in her mouth.

She and Inga had a duet gwan on. Laura's hot breath over tits made my nipples swell to new hites. She sucked in as much of each breast as she could and then gave the nubbins a lazy lick. I was gettin dizzier and my climaks was buildin up from my feets. When the ripples reeched my kneecaps, my hands sawt Inga's on my swolled up pussy lips. "Inga, what is you doin ..." I couldn't finish cuz I winced when I felt three or four of her fat fingers slip into my sloppy cunt. I thrashed about on the beanbag bench as wildly as she dug deeply in my joy hole. My walls was like the killer suckers on a octapuss's tentikals, but instead of poison they was packed with my addictive slime. And when Inga stopped fingerin me, she did a dramatic finish, suckin off the cum real loud so I could hear what I couldn't see.

"Oh my God, I can't take this no more!" I cried. I removed the cucumber slices and to my supprize found Paul standin there with his robe open and his cock erect and vertikal. He would a been content with just slidin his fingers in and out of my cunt, but now that I was aware of what was gwan on, sumthin got unleashed in him. He removed his fingers, balled up a fist and splashed his way into my pussy. "Umph!" he shouted with each thrust. I gasped at first but, with each penetrashun, got used to the rudeness of the fistin and the weird pressure in my belly. It was like an assawlt but not.