Where the Climate's Sultry Pt. 12

26

Before Briony went to sleep that night she set her mind to thinking of the best way to get Hunter all to herself on the following day, their last on the island. After an hour of fruitless thought, she hit on what she considered was the brilliant idea of going swimming with him at one of the nudist beaches they had on the island. Knowing there were several of these, as soon as she woke up in the morning she got the concierge to tell her which was the most secluded and - ever the believer in the power of positive thinking - got him to book her a taxi for 11 o'clock. It took a bit of work and the exercise of her not inconsiderable charms, but she also arranged for the hotel to let her have the use of a large umbrella to give them protection against the strong sun. She had a large beach towel they could use as a makeshift mattress and she'd take a couple of cushions from her room to use as pillows. Now all that remained was to persuade Hunter to make the trip with her.

As usual, he was first at the breakfast table - already there when Briony pitched up just after nine. She was wearing a low-cut T-shirt which showed off her considerable assets and a mini skirt which gave Hunter a glimpse of her well-toned thighs, especially when she shifted her chair away from the table and made a Sharon Stone-like show of crossing her legs. Hunter, who always waited for the others to arrive before eating, was sipping on his espresso when Briony arrived. She ordered a hazelnut macchiato and when it came, as she was stirring it, she decided to stir the beefcake Australian up a bit as well.

She pitched to him the idea of spending a day at the beach, not mentioning that it was a nudist one. Indeed, the concierge had drawn a map for her showing how at all times barring high tide you could walk round the promontory at the end of the beach proper to reach an even more secluded cove backed by towering cliffs. He checked the tide-table and it would be low tide at 1pm, which basically meant that Briony and Hunter could spend the day on their own private beach. Knowing that Hunter had a bit of a thing for geography Briony told him that there were interesting rock formations and even some fossils, which may or may not have been true, since she had just thought of the idea on the spot.

Naturally, Hunter mentioned the others and wondered if they would like to come. Briony knew for a fact that both Julia and Tina hated the sea - neither being very strong swimmers - and told him that they had planned to lie in (true) and then laze by the pool and maybe take in a massage (possible but never actually communicated by them to her). When Hunter understood this, he warmed to the idea, reminiscing about a time he was in the Canaries and had visited a beach with extraordinary rock formations and deposits of various minerals which Briony hadn't heard of and couldn't give a fig about. Sensing her moment, she told him she had booked a taxi for 11, which gave them 45 minutes to get ready. Thinking that Briony was doing this for him, Hunter thanked her profusely and went back to his room talking animatedly about packing his binoculars and his telephoto lens.

'As long as you bring your Canon,' Briony thought, 'I'm sure that there will be satisfaction all round!'

After his experience with the Speedos the day before, Hunter was careful to pack his Bermuda shorts for swimming. He was also very pleased to be able to use the mask and snorkel which he had brought with him but had not yet taken out of his suitcase. Having checked he had everything he needed, he rang reception to see if they happened to have a beach towel going spare. Today, he thought, he'd finally have the chance to get down to some serious reading of his book. He was fortunate that the person who answered his call was Anastasia, who had taken quite a shine to him and who he never failed to greet whenever he saw her around the hotel. Although the hotel policy on the loan of such items was quite clear, she told him to come round in five minutes and she would have one wrapped up ready for him.

That done, he returned to his room briefly to collect his other things and make one last visit to the loo and then made his way to the lobby, where he met Briony, who was waiting for him. As he turned to walk to the waiting cab, Hunter waved a cheery goodbye to Anastasia. Dropping her professional demeanour, she looked daggers at him, clearly regretting her decision to do him a favour when she saw exactly who it was he was going to be spending the rest of the day at the beach with.

Briony gave the driver a piece of paper on which the concierge had written the destination in Greek and they were there in nor more than 20 minutes, the last few hundred yards being on a dirt road. There were a dozen or so people on the main beach, two of whom weren't wearing any clothes. Hunter looked quizzically at Briony, who told him not to worry because this was a nudist beach. With a smile, she pointed him towards the little cove at the far end of the bay, whither they proceeded, Hunter laden down by the bulky beach umbrella but declining to let his companion carry it even part of the way.

Hunter was very impressed with the rock formations and the veins of various metals and minerals in the cliffs. He recognised the red tones of iron and the yellow ones of sulphur in addition to the familiar ivory colour of compacted ash from the many volcanic eruptions that had helped shape the island.

He was so fascinated by the topology that after setting up the umbrella and laying down the beach towels he told Briony that he would like to make a little recce and would be back in 15 minutes or so. His explorations took him not just to the cliff face but also to the shore, where he found some beautiful shells, some of which he put in the pockets of his shorts with a view to taking them back home for Hayley, who had quite the collection at home.

He returned to the little camp they had made in an excitable state, ready to share his discoveries with Briony. She had turned the umbrella to face the sun so that he only saw her when he entered the space from the far side. He was stopped dead in his tracks by the sight of the black girl lying on her back on the double towel with not a stitch on her. Hunter didn't know where to look and was beginning to turn away when Briony called him back.

'Come and join me,' she said, raising herself on her elbow and displaying her superb breasts to him. 'There's lots of room.'

'Look,' said Hunter, searching for the right words. 'I think I'll take my things and find a place over by the cliff. There are lots of lovely spots.'

'But it's nearly midday and the sun is very hot. I don't want you to get back to England with sunstroke. Hayley will never forgive me.'

Hunter pondered his options for a moment and decided to stay put. There would be room next to Briony once she moved to one side or the other, and he could read his book for half an hour before taking a dip in the sea and doing a bit of snorkelling by the rocks. He communicated all this to Briony, who responded by moving towards where Hunter was standing, which meant he would have to clamber over her when taking his place. He took off his shirt, took his book and a bottle of water out of his backpack and coughed to let Briony know that he was ready to take his place next to her.

Briony, who had been lying on her side, turned to lie on her back, making it difficult for Hunter to negotiate a safe path over her without looking at her breasts, her legs and ('Ohmygod' thought Hunter) her pubic hair which grew luxuriantly in tufts like wire wool. He tried to avert his eyes but didn't manage to do so before he had caught a glimpse of jet black pussy lips separated by what appeared to be a thin red strip. As he attempted to pass her, Briony raised one of her knees, which tripped Hunter up and caused him to fall face first into the middle of the blanket where his legs became entangled with the black girl's.

'Oops, sorry!' said Briony, sitting up to lend Hunter a hand in getting settled, her boobs inches from his face as he shifted around attempting to orientate himself in the confined space.

Hunter really wanted to lie prone on the ground, but the stony ground underneath made that very difficult with all the sharp edges that could be felt through even two beach towels. So he lay on his side facing Briony, who adopted a similar position facing him. The first thing she did was to check if he was feeling okay, putting her hand on his shoulder in a show of concern. Having been assured by Hunter that he was as right as rain, she watched as he took up his book and tried to find the page where he'd left off reading. In the end, rather than keep flicking through the book, he started at a fairly random point in a part of the book he was pretty sure he had already read. Sure enough, he remembered having read this bit before but decided to plough on regardless, since the last thing he wanted was to appear flustered, as he had a suspicion that Briony would use that as a pretext to 'comfort' him again, and this time it might not be on his shoulder.

Hunter was making progress with his book. He had finally caught up to where he had got up to at the airport nearly a week ago and was keen to see how the story would end: whether the villain would get what was coming to her or whether she would outfox them all and return to terrorise a different group of people in a new book.

He was of course aware of Briony lying there as naked as the day she was born but had accepted her right to adopt a naturist mode since this was designated as a nudist beach. When he thought about it a bit more, he reckoned that there was in fact quite a bit of difference between a naked new-born baby and a naked nubile woman in her mid-twenties. Still, she had just as much right to adopt a lifestyle which was comfortable for her as he himself (or anyone else for that matter) did.

He had just started a new chapter when he felt something on his shorts. Looking down he saw Briony's brightly painted pink toenails moving slowly across one covered thigh on a journey which if uninterrupted would in due course arrive at his other covered thigh. In terms of a possible interruption there existed only his penis, which was swelling extremely rapidly as if it wished to defend him from the invader.

Out of the corner of his eye Hunter could see that Briony was no longer reclining: she was standing in a hunched pose on account of the umbrella, standing on one leg as the other made its inexorable way towards his todger. He found himself admiring her suppleness and wondering how she managed to remain balanced in that pose for so long.

While he was thus engaged in thought, her big toe had reached his tumescent column, which became if anything even more tumescent at the touch. Thinking it was time he put an end to this silliness, he rose up from his recumbent position to have a word with her. She instantly used her foot to push him back onto his cushion.

'Now look,' he began to say, before her foot was on his mouth preventing any further utterance.

'I love it when you play hard to get,' she said, dropping down and pulling his shorts off in one easy movement.

His penis leapt up as if it meant to attack Briony, but she was intent that any assault that was going to be made would be initiated by her. The first action she took though was to jettison his book, tossing it out onto the surrounding rocks.

'Enough of reading about other people's exciting lives,' she said. 'It's time to live ours to the fullest.'

27

She took his manhood in her hand (just as she - and he - had imagined in their fantasies) and billed and cooed over it as if it were a baby.

'Tina and Julia weren't exaggerating,' she said.

'Look,' Hunter said in a state of some agitation. 'I really don't think you should be doing that.'

'It's because I'm black, isn't it?'

'Oh heavens, no! No, not all.'

'You've given yourself to Tina and Julia and those American women, not to mention Lisa, but you refuse to touch me. I know you find me attractive so the only possible reason is that you're a racist.'

'Briony, I promise you on my mother's grave I'm not racist.'

'Then prove it! I'm not interested in empty words.'

'But here?! Someone could come along. People may watch us.'

'Then let them. If you were here with Lisa, you'd be fucking her up against the cliffs you love so much. She told me what an animal you are.'

'Now look, Briony, I rea--' but he couldn't get any more out on account of the fact that she had clamped her luscious lips over his mouth and powered her tongue into his throat, even as her hand continued to work his cock.

Hunter was still very anxious about being caught in flagrante delicto on the beach, of being hauled before the local magistrate and having his name and photo splashed on the front page of all the tabloids. On the other hand, his desire to have sex with his first ever black woman (and the wonderfully sexy and sassy Briony to boot) was beginning to assume ever growing importance in his list of priorities. He dabbled with the idea of flipping her over and drilling her as he had dreamed of doing so many times but still nagging doubts remained.

They say that he who hesitates is lost but I think in all honesty this was a win-win situation. Sensing his vacillation, Briony broke the kiss and set herself the task which had already defeated five women that week: bringing Hunter's massive weapon under control.

'Fuck! It's big,' was her initial assessment after inspecting it at close quarters.

Still, she wasn't deflated. She'd had sex with a couple of really well-hung black dudes and she'd managed to deepthroat them both. One of them, Leroy, had told her that she was the first woman who'd ever done that and he was reputed to have banged hundreds of women: black, white, Asian - you name it, he'd done them. It might sound odd, relating the story now, but Briony actually did a few exercises with her mouth, twisting it this way and that to make sure that everything was as limber as possible. Then she set to work.

Her strategy was simple. Rather than coming down at it vertically or at an acute angle as she did with other men, she would attempt to take it horizontally. She knew it would be an incredibly tight fit but as long as she could breathe through her nose (no problems there in this dry climate) then she thought it was doable. The importance of a good start couldn't be overstated. Opening her mouth as wide as possible (as if she were having a wisdom tooth removed) she engulfed the monster and started off on the journey, which, all being well, would see her reach her destination in less than a minute. All went well until the bulbous glans got wedged against her tongue. She understood at once that she needed to make her entry even flatter. A minute adjustment was all it took and suddenly her mouth was flush against his pubic bone.

What Briony hadn't legislated for was that Hunter would respond so powerfully to her ministrations. As she was sliding back off him, she could feel his orgasm coming and wasted no time in positioning herself so that she would be able to bathe her face in its goodness and drink in as much of the white syrup as possible. Controlling the direction of his ejaculate was to prove a much bigger problem than actually deepthroating him, as the massive tool was jerking and jagging and Briony had left it too late to get her hands on it. In the end his jism ended up everywhere: in her hair, on her neck, on the beach towel. Some of it even reached as for as the umbrella post itself, looking like a white snail as it began to slide down the metal tube.

'My god, Briony!' said Hunter with a tone of awe bordering on reverence. 'You are the first person ever to have done that.'

'That's why you should change your attitude about black girls, Hunter. There's lots of things we can do that white women can only dream about.'

'Now look Briony, before we go any further - I mean, if you want to and we can be sure no one's watching us - I think we have to get one thing straight. You -'

'There's only one thing I want to get straight and I'm looking at it right now,' said Briony, her eyes watching as the residue of his seed leaked onto the beach towel.

Thinking that it was a crying shame that such goodness was going to waste, Briony ignored Hunter's lecturing and got to work on his magnificent member once more, first, lapping up his tasty cum before paying homage to the ball sack which had produced the ambrosia. Hunter, though greatly aroused, was dead set on putting Briony right about the racist tendencies she imputed to him.

'I really must correct you on - oh my god! - one, one thing,' he just about managed to get out. 'I don't judge you on the colour of your skin. I don't even - aw, fuck! - look at you as a black woman. No, that's not true. I do look at you as a black woman - no! not there! - but not in a discriminatory way. I mean in a good - aagh! - a very good way. I've thought about making love to you more than all the others combined. I didn't think - god! yes! don't stop! - a girl like you could be interested in an old man like me. Please, Briony - oh, fuck! - please believe me when I say I'm not a racist.'

'I know you're not, silly,' said Briony, disengaging herself from his phallus, which she had engulfed once again, practice having made perfect. 'Let your inhibitions go and just make love to me.'

This was a dangerous thing to say to a man with as much stamina as Hunter, as Briony was to find out. Not that it bothered her. She'd never found a man who could truly satisfy her and here on this rocky beach today, she knew she had finally found her very own Don Juan.

Hunter was desperate to feel his cock inside Briony, but first things first, he thought. That luscious pussy was crying out for the same quality of oral attention that Briony had bestowed on him. Getting her to lie down, Hunter spread her legs and began to devour her pussy.

'My god, it tastes so sweet,' he thought, wondering if it was a genetic thing, diet perhaps or just natural variation.

He couldn't get over how pink she was down there. Every time he thought about it, he felt a surge between his legs and had to really focus on the job at hand to stop himself from giving up halfway through and powering his penis into her pink depths. But he was, all things considered, a disciplined man, and he was determined, as Magnus Magnusson used to say on Mastermind, to finish what he had started. And that is what he did, bringing Briony to a crippling climax.

'I want you to take me from behind,' said Briony, who had given the matter no little thought over the past couple of days.

As she got ready to get into position she noticed a scar on Hunter's side, which was usually covered by his clothes and when he was shirtless by his arm.

'Did you get attacked by a shark?' she said.

'Ha! No, I slipped in the shower many years ago and there was a loose tile. At least it made me get the bathroom fixed!'

'I think you're being modest. I bet it was one of those huge sharks like they had in Jaws.'

'A great white? I'm afraid to disappoint you but I've never even seen one of those.'

'I'm going to think of it as a shark, whatever story you make up,' Briony said, as she positioned herself with her voluptuous ass dominating Hunter's view.

28

He lined his truncheon up between her beautiful fleshy labia and inched his way inside her, checking to see if her lower lips were as accommodating as her upper ones. There could be no doubt about it: they were like peas in a pod or identical twins. Both had one thing in common: they craved cock.

When he was fully inside her, he paused for a moment before withdrawing most of the way then plunging powerfully back inside her. Most women responded to this 'super thrust' in a major way and Briony was no different, gasping and telling Hunter to fuck her harder. This has to be music to any man's ears and the burly Australian was no different. Tweaking his angle of entry slightly, he drove his phallus fast (and furiously) into her box and then kept pumping until the first signs of her orgasm became apparent.