Chapter 4

Part 5;

A great African woman;

Line fishing from the rocky south peninsula of the cove, I caught a large grouper, and on the cliff top I caught a Lithuanian girl to share it with. Off season is great for fishing and Baltic girls. It rained again as we shared my fish, my bed, and my cock.

In the morning, the Lithuanian girl hefted her backpack, thanked me for the fish, and moved on, sturdy legs and a tight round ass ascending up to the plateau, and away to the next stop on her itinerary.

I went outside into the grey foggy morning, pulled my wrap open, and pissed into the stream of rainwater running down the gully.

I saw some movement on the point up to my right; a person, binoculars, watching me. I could see the outline of an SUV too.

Not long afterwards, one of the most beautiful women I’d ever laid eyes on stepped down the slippery track to the cave entrance. She stepped down the rocks without holding onto the bushes like most people, despite her high heeled boots. She had the balance of a trained athlete, wide shoulders, and an ass that could kill.

She was black; very black, like dark chocolate. Tall and well shaped, her clothing immaculate and impeccably fitted. Her hair was tied back tightly, so her face was open.

And what a face; because it’s not the long limbs, generous breasts, and tight ass that turns my eye, it’s the face.

Susan had smooth skin, high cheekbones, a strong jawline, a pointed chin, all in proportions that struck at the heart. Artists strive to attain the emotions that her face inspired.

Her long thin neck twisted, and that perfect face faced me. Her eyes were like two weapons, cannons loaded with amour piercing shells.

“You.” She said arrogantly, “You live in there?”

“Yes.” I said, not sure if I should surrender or resist.

“I want to talk to you.” She said, stepping towards me on her long legs.

She towered above me in her high boots, Susan was six feet tall barefoot. She blasted me with her weaponized eyes; her mouth was fantastic, lips thick and African, well formed, smooth and sweet. Her teeth were perfect, probably the result of some expensive orthodontic work.

She wasn’t the sort of tourist that comes here. She wasn’t a bird watcher or a beach type. She was on a mission.

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

She looked slightly surprised, like maybe she was expecting more resistance.

“How long have you been here?” she asked, her voice a wonderful conjunction of clipped UK English and a musical African undertone.

“Nearly five years.” I told her, “Cup of tea?”

She looked slightly shocked again, as if a man who lived in a cave couldn’t serve tea to a guest.

I put on the kettle. There was some wind and it pushed her clothing against her tight breasts and made her nipples show through until she pulled her jacket closed.

“You really live here, in that hole?” she asked skeptically.

“That’s right.” I said, “Have a look inside if you like. Solar light, kerosene powered fridge, it’s ok. Do you take milk?”

She looked inside for a moment, then went back out onto the ledge and looked down at the cove with her binoculars.

I wondered; could anyone know it had washed up here? I didn’t think so, but what other explanation was there for this superwoman taking an interest in me and my cove?

“So you see everything that moves on this coast?” she asked me.

She couldn’t be a cop; so she had to be with whoever lost the box. An agent, killer fixer bitch.

She spent the whole day with me, asking about everything, pretending to be interested in things other than the tiny stone cove, patrols, boats, and currents.

I told her about my life, my lovers, prattled on about fish and birds, everything except that I’d ever seen that box, or had it hidden in the gully down below us.

She was sharp; her mind absorbed everything I told her. She revealed only a little about herself; she was from Somalia, gone to school in the UK and stayed there.

A storm blew up, rain lashed against the cliff so I invited her inside, pulling the tarp closed behind us.

I was afraid of her; I had no idea what she was capable of but it seemed that anything was possible. I’m strong, but I’ve never had a fight in my life.

The rain and wind intensified, I heated some soup and we shared it in the dim light of my solar charged electric system.

“How often do you get storms like this?” she asked.

“This is a strong one; but normal at this time of year.” I told her. “It could go all night.”

She looked annoyed, as if I’d arranged the storm for my own purposes.

“I suppose I’ll have to spend the night here.” She grumbled, “Do you have a spare bed?”

“No.”

“Of course you don’t.” she sighed, unlacing her boots, she pulled them off and stood up.

She stared down at me as she undressed; carefully peeling off her expensive clothing, revealing her perfect dark chocolate body.

I watched her unapologetically; if a woman undresses in my place, I get to look. Whatever her game was, I was going to enjoy my end of it.

Long lean muscular limbs, small tight conical breasts with extra large nipples, a belly as flat as a board, and a trimmed black furry bush between her muscular thighs.

She reached behind her head and released her hair, which fell down around her shoulders in a thick flurry of tangled blackness. She looked into my eyes, poker faced. Did she like this, or was it a vile task for her, ordered to seduce the cave man and find out what he knows?

Without a word, her long legs carried her past me to the bed at the back of the cave, where she lay down on her side, face propped on her hand, watching me.

This wasn’t normal. I hadn’t worked her, pulled her strings, done my well oiled seduction act. She had been flirting a little, but nothing that indicated this was coming.

I’ve seduced hundreds of women; I haven’t mentioned the hundreds more I failed to seduce, that would be boring. What I mean is, I can usually tell if a woman is interested. Or not.

Susan had shown little sign of being sexually attracted to me.

Whatever her game was, she was incredibly sexy and I was willing to share my bed with her, and whatever parts of me she wanted.

I took my clothes off too. She made no sign when she saw my thing, dangling halfway down my thigh. She rolled onto her back and just lay there as I squeezed in next to her, pulled the quilt over us, and switched off the light.

The wind howled in the utter darkness. Her thigh and arm were in contact with me. She lay still, waiting.

My cock wanted to get between those long dark legs, but the rest of me overruled the impulse.

“Well?” she asked.

“What?” I asked.

“Are you going to do it?”

“Do you want me to?”

“If you want to.”

“I only want it if you want it.” I said, despite the tale my balls were telling.

“But you want me to want it?” she asked.

“Of course.” I said.

“Ok.” She said.

I put my hand on her belly, and ran it upwards between her breasts, then back down until I met the edge of her fuzzy bush. She lay still, as stiff as a board. I circled her breasts, stroked her neck, her shoulders. She just lay there like a corpse.

It was too weird; I pulled my hand away and let her be.

I woke as she climbed over me to get out of bed. She pulled the tarp open and stood silhouetted against the grey dawn sea. Her form was quite extraordinary; so long, strong, lean, and sexy a woman I’d never seen.

She turned, so her profile was outlined, and she lifted her arms up with her hands behind her head; her tight tits pressed out into the mist, aching to be adored. She turned, showing herself to me, revealing the truth of herself; that she was a goddess.

Then she stepped outside into the rain, beckoning for me to follow.

In the ice cold rain, the tall black woman washed my body with a soapy sponge, but when she got to my cock she used her hands.

“So, it does work after all.” She commented, as if I hadn’t told her I have 3 habitual lovers.

She was looking at something over my shoulder, and I turned to see what it was; a fisherman was standing on the cliff edge in the distance, watching us. It was pretty far and it was raining, but he could see us. I looked back at Susan; she was excited, turned on for real.

“Let’s get inside.” I suggested.

“I want it right here.” She countered, wrapping herself around me with my stiff rod clamped between her thighs.

Rain streamed down my back as my front warmed against her firm sexy body. She bent her head down and we kissed, my hands stroking her wet back and ass.

“It’s too cold!” I told her. “Come on inside and dry off.”

She came into the cave reluctantly, we dried each other off and jumped into my bed.

It was made from pallets and driftwood, with a donated mattress. I’d made the base strong for just this sort of eventuality.

Her long black muscular legs lifted straight up, then opened in a great V.

She was better than me. Younger, stronger, taller, richer, smarter, more educated, sexier. A powerful woman.

I dropped my face between her thighs before she realized I was a dried up old caveman; her vagina was slightly enlarged, damp, sweet, and there was a faint scar on one side.

Even more impressive, this strong thin body had delivered a child at some point.

Her hands grabbed my head as I licked her with all the skill I’d acquired.

Sometimes guys ask me how I do it; what’s the trick?

It’s not a trick. I love women, I love them all. I enjoy every minute, and if they don’t have sex with me I still love them. Talking, listening, joking, flirting. Learning who they are, where they’re from, and where they are now.

Seduction has to be enjoyed for its own sake, not for the ‘score’ at the end.

Susan was wet now, and maybe she would come if I kept at it for long enough; but I decided to switch to penis power.

We held hands and locked eyes as my big rod slid into her perfect body. As we joined, her wet vagina engulfing me in her pleasure, my hot cock easing into her depth, sliding up, inside, penetrating.

She’d had sex before, probably lots of sex. I’d been inside countless vaginas.

That made no difference; the magic, the wonder, the stupendous feeling was just as deep as if we’d been virgins.

She was here for some ulterior motive, yet the sex was real. The pleasure, the lust, the primal joy of it was in her eyes, her expression, the tension in her fingers and the grasp of her groin.

The perfect unsuitability of us made it pure; we didn’t even know each other’s last names. We just knew we wanted to fuck, and here we were. Two humans mating in primal fluid sharing sex.

I leaned down and pulled a dark little tit into my mouth, the big milf nipple against my tongue. She tussled my head and lifted her hips, I released the tit and kissed her beautiful wide mouth, she stuck her tongue into mine, and I rammed her with my hot hard rod.