I don't really like beaches. Sucks for me, 'cause I ought to like them in theory. Warm weather, nice breezes, and hot ladies wearing almost nothing? Those all sound like my idea of fun. But when I actually get there, the sand gets in my eyes, the sun burns all the spots I missed with my sunscreen, and I'm too paralyzed by nerves to ogle too much.
I mean, what if someone notices, and laughs at me, or says I'm disgusting? The shame would burn long after the redness on my ears faded. And my friends, they know I'm gay but they aren't always tactful about it. I didn't want to face the ribbing I'd get over that sort of humiliation.
That's one of the reasons why I put down my towel safely out of their earshot. The other reason is that I still had homework to do. Missing the point of Spring Break, Jenna had said, and maybe she was right. But my professors hadn't gotten the memo, either, and if I wanted to get into med school, I needed to turn my stuff in on time.
Maybe my friends thought I was just that into Spearman's rho and correspondence analysis. Well, no. But it wasn't quite as boring as you'd think. And with my slight build, geek glasses, dull brown close-cropped hair, stack of books, and unfavorable location far from the lapping waves, I was all but assured of enough splendid isolation to get my work done. Hey, if I was lucky, I might even have time to sneak out to the Sick of Teagan concert a few beaches over, and have some actual fun listening to my favorite band.
For the first two hours or so, the plan was working. I was just about done with the last problem set, when shadow suddenly obscured my notebook. I looked up, wondering if it was going to rain, my stomach doing flip-flops as I desperately hoped I'd brought my umbrella.
It was not going to rain.
The woman in front of me was not looking at me, nor in any way acknowledging me. But it can't have been a coincidence that she was spreading out her towel and opening her beach umbrella directly in front of me. Like, her feet were literally less than a foot away from mine. She was blocking my vision totally. She had to want me to see her massive body, to stare at it, to take it in. To be impressed and intimidated and aroused by it. If so, she was getting her wish.
Her skin was dark. Not dark like chocolate, but dark like fertile Amazonian soil. Dark like the earth. Covered with glossy lotion, it glistened in the sun. My eyes followed every movement of her bulging bodybuilder's arms, high in the air as she raised the umbrella. I saw every jiggle of her lewdly huge ass, utterly revealed to me in a white thong bikini, and every flex of her uber-powerful hamstrings and calves. I forgot to breathe for a long, long moment, forgot what I was doing, where or who I was – the entirety of my brainpower was devoted to giving me the highest-resolution image of this goddess that I could possibly see; to etching it in my memory so I could always slip into this moment, whenever my kitty felt the need.
Need. I pulsed with need right now. I fell on my back, saw my calculator and notebook fall on the sand, and gave a long, lewd, guttural moan, with absolutely no concern for who could hear it.
That's when she turned. Her long, flowing hair, almost painfully bright white, rippled in the breeze, and at first I could only see that. Then her lips moved, painted glossy black, and I followed their swell, and her perfect teeth and lush tongue as she warmly rumbled words whose meaning only registered after I had felt the power and lust behind them hit me in the heart and in the cunt.
"My name is Kalia. What is yours?"
I suddenly noticed her scent. It assaulted me, warm and rich and deep like the earth, and I was panting now, and writhing, utterly overwhelmed; and there was a vague awareness in the back of my mind that as beautiful as Kalia was, this wasn't a normal, appropriate way to react to her, but those thoughts fought a losing battle against the tide of my sheer need.
"Zoe," I half-squealed, between gasps for breath.
"Oh, that is a cute name." She smiled, and laughed a little, to herself. "A cute, sweet name, for a cute, sweet girl."
Suddenly, that feeling of discomfort was back with a vengeance. I was not sweet. Or cute. People only said those things to me when they were patronizing me, mocking me. That's why Kalia had laughed, I figured. She probably thought it was funny that I was sweating and writing with need for her, without her even having to try. She probably thought it was just adorable.
I started to raise an objection, but it was derailed as my eye finally caught on Kalia's huge, lush, fertile, heaving, dark breasts, surmounted by thin white triangles of bikini fabric that only emphasized her lewd, puffy nipples, just begging to be suckled. This is roughly how it came out: "Hey, I am not, uh, uh, cuuuuu, uh... ohhhhhhhhhhhhh... "
The amazonian goddess laughed again, long and slow, but my eyes never reached her face, as I once again could do nothing but absorb every detail of her jiggling, heavy, inviting flesh-mounds, which I so desperately wanted to cover me, smother me until my breath was totally at her mercy.
Her voice gently butter-knifed through my reverie: "You're drooling, dear."
"Oh." I was.
"Shawwy-- uh, sorry. Kalia." What was that, baby talk? My blush was massive.
"So, you object to me calling you cute." She slowly lowered herself to the ground, to sit cross-legged across from me. I looked up at her face, and saw it in full, for the first time. Given everything I had seen so far – her giant frame, her fertility-goddess body – her face was surprisingly youthful, open, with a slightly upturned nose and wide brown eyes. She could have been younger than me, in theory. I couldn't really entertain that thought for more than a second, though. Not with the intense, amused stare she was giving me.
I didn't want to answer, but put on the spot, I had to explain. "Well, girls are cute. But I'm a woman. Not some little girl you can, um, look down at..." Then I was blushing again. Not that I meant it in that way, but, well, Kalia was probably, like, seven feet tall, or something close. I was still lying on my back, too lust-stunned to move. Of course she was looking down at me.
"Of course, of course. I hardly meant to suggest that, Zoe." There was still a twinkle in Kalia's eye; she wasn't all that apologetic. "Well, when I see a woman who captures my interest, I like to be hospitable. Would you like a drink, dear?"
"Um, sure..." My throat was parched, all of a sudden. "Some water or juice, if you have it."
"Oh, I've got just the thing." The woman smiled, and retrieved some cans of sparkling orange juice from a cooler bag. Kalia poured out two glasses, and took a slow sip of hers. Suddenly my heart skipped a beat as I saw and felt those jet-black lips savoring my clit! I was moaning again, feeling a bit embarrassed but a lot in need of Kalia's touch.
Then I saw her pouring vodka into my juice glass. My moan cut off with a whimper.
Kalia kept pouring until the drink nearly overtopped the tall glass, gently stirred it with a straw, and only then, very deliberately, turned to me. "Is something the matter?" she cooed.
"I, um ... I don't drink alcohol?" I hadn't meant that to be a question, but that's how it came out.
Kalia snickered. "I guess you really are a little girl, after all. A cute, sweet, innocent little good girl who will not even drink on her Spring Break."
"Am not!" I sputtered, in my indignation finally managing to sit up straight. "Have it your way, I'll totally, uh, drink that!"
Kalia smiled, nodded, and handed the glass over, spilling a tiny amount on my inner thigh. I cooed softly at the wetness. Momentarily, I had an echo of a shadow of a thought wherein I wondered why the dark goddess hadn't put any vodka in her cup. That thought seemed inappropriate – even somehow disrespectful – and I quickly unthought it, as I proceeded to drink.
When the sharp, stinging, disgusting liquid first hit my mouth, I thought I was going to choke, or throw up, or at least spit it out. But I swallowed, and in fact kept drinking, in one long, unending sip. Heat burned in my cheeks, on my tongue, in my throat, and I tried to put the glass down but I couldn't stop. For the first time I wondered if I was being drugged. If I had been, somehow, all along.
Those thoughts only bothered me for a moment, before I realized how delicious the drink was, and how it was producing all kinds of warm, tasty, pulsating feelings in my cunny. I was so happy, and so grateful to Kalia for giving me such a wonderful drink. I poured the last few sips straight onto my bikini bottom, and watched the juice soak through the purple fabric and outline my engorged labia wonderfully, and then the heat hit and I was moaning and writhing and screaming my lungs out as I exploded powerfully in climax, adding my own girl-juice to the mix, my eyes fixed on Kalia's swaying breasts and ripped forearms and beautiful smiling face.
My finger dipped under my suit and into my citrus-soaked honeypot. I brought it up to my lips, desperate to taste more. I suckled it thoroughly, not minding that my own fluids were mixed in with the dark goddess's ambrosia.
"Cute. Do it again, with your thumb, please."
.... There is more of this story ...