CHAPTER 1
It was a beautiful hot sunny day and in line with the first few days of their
Haitian holiday, Linda and husband Patrick, both twenty-three, lay sunning themselves on
the golden expanse of sand near their hotel. The beach was deserted but for a few knots of
sunbathers in the distance.
Linda was very tipsy and relaxed and had been sleeping but now, feeling aroused,
slid full length on top of Patrick. As she was wearing only a minuscule green bikini she
could feel every contour of his body. Her soft breasts crushed against his chest and
especially the hard bulge she had trapped between her clamping thighs, pressing it against
the moist, yielding warmth of her womanhood.. Sighing, she wriggled contentedly, tickling
his nipples with her tongue, nipping slightly, hearing him groan with desire. One hand
stroked her shoulder-length blonde hair and the other slipped under her bikini, caressing
a smooth firm cheek of her bottom, delving into the cool cleft between. Undulating her
hips very slightly, she pressed harder against his manhood.
Linda had all but forgotten the incident a few hours earlier when, showing her pass
for access to the private beach, a haughty black woman from the private security force
which policed this Haitian offshore island belonging to her employer, took an interest in
her handbag. She had been jumpy, conscious of what was in there and frustrated because the
promised contact and collection of the ‘medicinal’ drugs she had brought with her at the
request of one of her employer’s managers hadn’t yet taken place.
Linda was left holding a potentially dangerous baby and didn’t know exactly what
the powder was, didn’t want to know either. Fulfilling her part of the bargain in bringing
it out here would clear her debts and earn her a free holiday. That and other
considerations helped to decide that doing the little errand, just slipping it in her
luggage, was the right thing to do. She kept the plastic phials at all times with her
make-up, hoping someone would soon contact her, not daring to leave it in the hotel room,
but now wondering whether that decision had been the right one.
When the Negress had expressed a womanly interest in her make-up bag Linda’s temper
had snapped and she had told the officious woman to bugger off.
“Fat cow, don’t be so damned nosy or I’ll call the real police on the main island.”
The evil look with which the woman received her tirade would always haunt her.
The sun and her several lunchtime drinks were making her drowsy, fine sand trailed
through her slim fingers, her eyes grew heavy with sleep but she became aware of two dark,
official-looking figures walking towards them across the beach. With a start Linda
realised they were the island security people and that one was the same Negress. They had
been moving from one group of sunbathers to another – searching for them?
Suddenly the huge, stern woman was before them, smiling like a tigress. The young
Negro guard with her sat down on the beach next to her handbag but thankfully ignored it,
content with a can of beer and a newspaper. He smiled at Linda lying on top of Patrick as
they both struggled to adjust themselves, before concentrating on his reading. Linda
rolled back onto the beach, licking her lips nervously, her mouth suddenly dry.
"Mr and Mrs Brewer, such a touching scene," the Negress smiled. "So we meet again
so soon after acting suspiciously when I glanced in your bag - and your insulting me. I do
hope my fat figure isn’t blocking your sun.”
Patrick cleared his throat nervously. Linda had only recently told him of the
‘favour’ she had done to get the holiday and clear her debt.
"Look, I'm, we're sorry about before, we didn't mean ?"
The woman silenced him with a dismissive wave of her hand, continuing; "You made me
look and feel very silly and now I shall do the same to you."
"Look, we said we are sorry but you cannot just ..." Linda gasped, heart pounding,
wishing she was sober, wishing the Negro wasn’t so close to her bag, feeling vulnerable.
"You must understand," the Negress interrupted again," that I can do anything on
this island. And I do believe I smell alcohol on your breath. Public drunkenness is an
offence.”
“But ?”
“Shut up!” she interrupted. “I intend giving you a lesson in humility before I go
off duty. Please, both take off your costumes, clasp your hands behind your heads and
stand legs astride to be searched."
“What! Here? You cannot ?” Linda’s voice trailed off as she looked around at the
distant clumps of tourists, not wanting to provoke a scene, seeing the Negro’s hand
resting casually on her handbag.
Patrick was about to protest but the woman stooped to pick up Linda’s bag, dangling
it before them. Did they know she had anything to hide? Linda hoped not, but didn’t want
to put it to the test.
"We'd better do it," she sighed, the drinks lowering her inhibitions, yet gulping
as she stood, glancing again at the distant tourists, a witness to their shame. If they
were looking they’d think they were common criminals being searched. She touched Patrick's
muscular arm for reassurance, then reached around to unfasten the tiny top of her bikini,
letting her beautiful small, pear-shaped breasts spill out. Crimson-faced she hooked her
fingers in her tiny bikini pants, bending to slide them off. Both now stood naked as
demanded, the posture thrusting Linda's boobs towards her tormentor.
“Hah, please,” she whispered, red-faced, as the woman’s huge black hands cupped her
boobs, holding her precious fruit, making her orbs bounce. Shamefully, she felt her
nipples ripening like berries against the palms.
She looked down, trying to ignore the smiling eyes of their tormentor whose hands
now roamed at will over her exposed body, probing, cupping and delving intimately. The
public and enforced exposure of her body was humiliating. However, being also somewhat of
an exhibitionist, proud of its beauty, she relished the thought of any male sunbathers
devouring it with greedy eyes - yet unable to touch.
With a demeaning pat on her bottom, the woman finished with her and turned to
Patrick. Furtively, Linda glanced as those hands now played with her husband’s body,
stroking flesh which was so familiar to her, seeing his erection spring to life under her
ministrations. His expression and bodily reaction gave her a tiny thrill of pleasure
before she again had her own problems to worry about.
“Lay face down in the sand, both of you,” the Negress ordered. “We’ll just look
down, there.” She smirked at the sight of the two white bottoms presented to her, one hard
and muscular, the other smooth and rounded. She trailed a finger down the curve of the
blonde’s spine, feeling her shiver before she splayed a broad hand across her flinching
cheeks.
"Very nice. Now move apart a little and spread-eagle arms and legs wide", she
instructed. It's a lovely day isn't it?" She sat between the two with a thud which
reverberated through the sand, trailing a hand down Patrick’s back too, leaving it also
resting casually on his buttocks.
When no reply was forthcoming her hand slapped down across both pairs of white
globes.
Smack!
“Arghh, oohh!" both yelped, pressing their hands to their stinging backsides.
"It’s rude to ignore people. 'Yes Madam' is the way you should answer me, your
superior, and spread-eagle again. I didn't damn well tell you to move! Understand?"
"Yes Madam," Linda managed between gritted teeth as they resumed their positions.
"Excellent," her tormentor purred, stroking over the shivering quivering flesh of
each bottom.
“Ugghh,” the blonde gasped as a black thumb began to delve between her cool globes,
resting against the hot bud of her anus, poised on the entrance, teasing before slowly
delving within.
The Negress smiled, probing Patrick too, feeling each rubbery button trying to
reject her invading digit. Both pairs of cheeks clenched at the intrusion. Sometimes her
husband called her kinky or gay. A lot depended on her mood at the time but it was hard to
deny the pure aphrodisiac of power at doing such things to posh folk and the blonde was so
cute, she thought. She felt that life was so good as her fingers twisted and turned within
the tight heat of the woman who had insulted her.
Linda's face was turned towards Patrick, her beautiful wide blue eyes framed in an
exquisite face concealing her inner feelings as she felt the finger in her orifice,
filling and stretching her unnaturally. Although she felt disgusted, soiled at the
assault there was also a drink-induced, relaxed shiver of pleasure. Although their
lovemaking was good, Patrick was not what you would call an inventive lover and she didn't
feel able to actually ask him to do some of the things she thought she would enjoy.
She remembered, years earlier, she and a teenage schoolgirl friend exploring each
other and the intense feeling as the girl's finger pushed into her tight bottom. She had
rubbed herself hard against the other fingers of the girl's hand to produce what she
recalled as her first orgasm. She could never ask Patrick to touch her in there though,
nor suggest that she take his wonderful pulsing organ between her lips and suck it dry.
Patrick would have been shocked, even after two years of marriage.
Linda tried to conceal a little moan brought on both by the feel of the finger
within her and the sight of the black hand spread across Patrick's white bottom, the large
black digit disappearing between his cheeks. He was so strong and powerful and yet now so
impotent. The shame of her situation was mixed with a trickle of hidden pleasure, but also
the guilt at the enjoyment it gave. It was a secret enjoyment in a ‘safe’ public
environment, which she would never admit to anyone. Yet why should she feel guilt? This
situation left her no choice, did it? And who could have believed an hour ago that she and
Patrick would be lying naked on the beach with a Negress exploring their rectums!
"Legs wider, please, show me it all, girl," instructed their tormentor. She smiled
at the sight of Linda's beautiful velvet lips covered in soft down. Her forefinger stroked
softly forward and she felt the girl tremble under her touch.
Linda could feel herself getting hot between her legs, mainly a response to the
afternoon drinks she guessed. The woman couldn't help but be aware of it. She looked again
at Patrick, hoping he would never know the twinge of pleasure this was giving her,
encouraged by the sight of the hand on him.
"A little game now,” the woman smirked. “ You both open your mouths wide, wider
than that,” she insisted until their mouths gaped. “Now, as my fingers go into you both,
up your arses, I want your tongues sticking out. The deeper I push into you, the further
you poke your tongue out. Go!” she instructed, fingers burrowing deeper into each tight
hot ring.
The woman could barely conceal her smirk as, like puppets, her victims protruded
their tongues in proportion to the depth of her explorations, enjoying the sight of the
blonde’s wide mouth and ridiculously extended, quivering pink tongue as her finger pushed
up to the knuckle in her rubbery heat.
“Keeping your mouths wide, I want you rutting like the animals you are," ordered
the woman. "Work your hips up and down, pretend you’re fucking the sand, fuck my fingers.
Go!"
Oh the shame, the exquisite shame Linda felt. She needed almost no encouragement to
jerk her hips around and up and down on that finger. It came as a blessed relief to be
told to do so, then to see Patrick's bottom similarly pumping up and down into the sand
with the black finger embedded in him, his mouth and tongue gaping. Now the woman's other
fingers were lightly brushing the velvet skin of her vulva. They dipped slightly between
those wide, moist yet silky portals of lust and were rubbing against the erect bud of her
clitoris, which had become the centre of her universe. For her, everything revolved around
the second and third fingers, including her wildly gyrating hips, buttock cheeks
uncontrollably clenching around them.
Suddenly the fingers stopped their wonderful rhythm and Linda almost bit her lip in
frustration.
"Let's see who deserves my thumb the most," the Negress mused. "I want to see which
one of you can grip it the hardest, squeeze your arse and you keep the others.”
Linda saw Patrick awkwardly clenching his bottom around the hand but Linda's
actions was fostered in desperation, she didn't want to lose the other fingers within her,
they were beginning to slide out. Frantically she squeezed her sphincter muscles together
to hold it, feeling her hot tube grip the intruder, like a baby holding its mother's
fingers. She knew her bottom was ridiculously lifting off the sand but she was still
somehow holding that precious digit within the hot elasticity of her rosebud anus. The
black hand parted company from Patrick's bottom and the free hand gave her own a playful
slap.
"Well, didn't you just want to keep that finger up you and so you shall for a while
longer as a reward," she smiled, resuming her light stroking within Linda's sex lips.
Linda’s toes were clenching and she was licking her lips, wondering if the woman
would actually make her come, when the hand stopped again and thumb withdrew altogether
from her puckered ring with a soft 'plop'. She tried to disguise her squirming shudder of
frustration.
"On your knees girl, up, up!" the Negress demanded.
Biting her full red lips Linda knelt up on the sand, her breasts bouncing lightly,
the nipples all too obviously erect buds of passion. The woman seemed to smile secretly at
her.
"Right my man, up you get too and stand right in front of her", the woman
requested. Patrick was about to protest but, with a glance at the nearby boy still reading
by her handbag, he reluctantly obeyed.
Linda could see the reason for his hesitation, at least six rigid inches of it as
he too had become aroused under the expert ministrations of the Negress. A few specs of
sand stuck to the purple head of Patrick's organ, trapped by the drops of moisture that
had oozed from within.
"Lick off the sand then every inch of his balls and prick till it shines," came the
secretly welcome command.
Linda felt Patrick's deep intake of breath as she lightly held his erect member in
one cool hand, the tip of her tongue flicking over his length.
"Hold her tits."
She gasped in pleasure as his two strong hand reached down to hold the soft yet
tight skin of her breasts, deliciously squeezing, the buttons of her nipples brushing
against his palms as he squashed the smooth skin up against her ribcage. Now a thumb and
forefinger actually held and lifted her nipples, twisting softly and pulling them out.
Electric circles of desire rippled over her flesh and the spear of her husband's manhood
throbbed deeper into her mouth as her fingers fluttered like a butterfly over his flanks,
holding his clenching buttocks. Linda's eyes were molten pools of desire as her mouth
moved back and forth, her tongue stabbing and darting lightly up and down his throbbing
length. She had longed to do this to him for so very long and now the drink and her lack
of responsibility for her actions were helping. It began to twitch; his grip on her
breasts intensified and with a series of gasps from above she could suddenly taste him in
her mouth as he pumped his lust into her.
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