Chapter 4: Give Her that Big Dick, Antoine

[Undated entry]
Somewhere in the Caribbean

FROM THAT MORNING on, Amélie dedicated herself to developing her shoulder muscles. She had good reflexes, she knew that, and enough knowledge of fighting from observation and training with Gérard to handle herself in a wrestling match. Especially since most boys, Michél being the exception, didn’t think she could fight.

Gérard swam almost every day in a cove not far from their house, but far enough that others rarely visited, especially early in the morning. Amélie was pleased when he invited her to join him. She was even more pleased when she discovered Gérard always swam nude. The water made her skin come alive, she thought. It also awakened her in other ways. Even so, Amélie was hungry enough by the end of a swim that she wanted to return to the house for a late breakfast. That wasn’t always possible.

“You asked for it, Gérard.”

Amélie lay sprawled in the sand where she’d landed after Gérard tripped her. She sprang up and ran at him. He dodged, but her run was a feint and she swerved at the very last second and took him down. He landed hard under her, his erect cock firmly lodged inside her. Amélie knew what to do about that and she flipped them. As Gérard adjusted himself on top of her for maximum effect she raised her legs and wrapped them around his butt and pulled him tight.

Amélie didn’t know whether it was Gérard’s size or the way he filled her or the way he moved, but in the end he pinned her. Pinned to the ground by a cock and a body that held her fastened to the earth. In some obscure way she relished being trapped, even if she fought as hard as she could against having her movements restricted whenever it happened otherwise.

When Gérard climaxed he remained solidly inside her until he began to shrink. Amélie didn’t notice at first because Gérard’s kisses were too enchanting to leave any brain cells, those few that remained after such a royal fuck, for any other activity. When he withdrew, she made a little ‘Oh’ sound of disappointment.

She was not to be disappointed for long. As she was getting ready to stand and put on her clothes, there was a rustle in the brush at the top of the beach. In a moment, Antoine appeared and approached them. His rags were falling off his slim muscled body and he stripped them off carelessly, leaving a trail behind. He was erect, his gorgeous ebony tool proudly waving with each step.

“Amélie, arise.” He extended his hand.

She laughed.

“Thank you, kind sir.”

But instead of releasing her when she was on her feet, Antoine swiveled and levered her up and over his shoulder. Amélie’s shrieks did nothing to stop him, nor did Gérard make any effort to intervene. He was laughing too hard to be of any use in any event.