EXTRACT FOR
My Femme Got Her: Celeste
(Just Bae)

 My girlfriend and I were fooling around on Sandy Island, Anguilla for a bit when we saw a young black woman paddling towards the private area in an old canoe. She was lithe but curvaceous, dressed in a lime green bikini with black strings, clearly designed to emphasize her cleavage. Her figure would have needed an acre of fabric to cover those great-looking breasts and ass cheeks.

The woman's body was magical; every movement of hers was timed and cordial. As she'd leant over, her bikini struggled to contain her assets. The cords of her G-string barely covered her hole.

Celeste, my girlfriend, caught me staring. "Wipe that drool from your chin, sweetie."

"Sorry, I was looking so hard, wasn't I?"

"Yup," Celeste sat up and gazed with me. "Damn, though."

"I know, right!"

We watched her drag her canoe onto the sand, all the way to the other side of the bay. We looked on as the woman used a flick-knife from the boat to make some thin shavings, then effortlessly lit them. Within an hour, she put together a kindling and made a campfire. When she was finished, she bent over to push the canoe back into the water, giving us a perfect view of her sexy romp.



"You were thinking about f#cking her, weren't you?" Celeste asked. It was pointless to deny it; the girl resembled a girl on the beach in a Sports Illustrated magazine bikini edition. I looked at Celeste, my eyebrow raised. I knew her, very well, and she admitted what I already knew. "Yeah, okay. I was thinking about fucking her too. God, what an ass!"

"Really? I didn't look down that far," I said. Celeste swatted at me.

"I can be your little canoe girl if you like," Celeste said pulling me down on top of her.