It was summer, the sun still blazing on the asphalt even though it was already seven in the evening. I was coming back from the beach on my scooter, my body salty and my skin hot, when the traffic light turned red and I slammed on the brakes. He appeared: tall, dark skin glistening with sweat, baggy shorts, and a box of tissues around his neck. In winter, maybe I would have bought some, but in July ... I smiled as he approached.

Then I saw it clearly: the fabric of his shorts moved as if something alive and enormous were stirring inside. My eyes were fixed on it. He noticed and let out a deep laugh:

“Like what you saw, beautiful?”

I blushed, but didn’t look away.

“I haven’t seen anything yet ... and I don’t have any money.”

He shrugged with that dangerous smile.

“Time to call it a day. Can you give me a ride home? Fifteen minutes walking, five on your scooter.”

I don’t know why I agreed. Maybe it was the heat, maybe curiosity. Maybe it was because I already felt a treacherous throbbing between my legs.

“Get in the back.”

He sat down and positioned himself deliberately: his hard, hot package pressed against my ass. His strong arms encircled my waist. I started driving. At first, he was just holding me, but soon his hands moved down, brushing against my bare thighs under my short skirt. Each caress made what was behind him swell even more, pressing harder with every bump.

I didn’t protest. I slightly parted my legs. He took it as an invitation. He sucked four fingers until they glistened with saliva and then lowered his hand to my groin. He pulled aside the thin fabric of my panties, and his wet hand rested on my entrance. He began to caress my clitoris in slow, perfect circles.

I stopped on the shoulder, trembling.

“Are you crazy?”

“I’m dying to shove my cock all the way in. Look what you’ve done to me...”

He took my hand and placed it on his crotch. I pulled out a monster: an impossibly thick, veiny, throbbing twenty-five centimeters. A moan escaped me.

“Not here ... Let’s go to your place and we’ll see.”

He smiled as if he’d already won.

We arrived in less than five minutes. It was a ground-floor apartment. I opened the door and the smell of sex hit me. In the living room, two other Black men were watching porn on the big TV, slowly jerking off, their cocks glistening with precum. When they saw me, they pretended to cover themselves.

“No, no,” I said hoarsely. “Please ... keep going.”

The one who was with me—Jamal—closed the door laughing.

“Guys, I brought you a little present.”

The other two stood up. Malik, the tallest, had a hard, dripping cock. Tyrone, broad-shouldered, with a thick, heavy cock. The fourth one, Kevin, came out of the bathroom, taking off his towel and revealing another straight one, its head swollen and purple.

Four enormous black cocks pointed at me. Me in the middle, in beach clothes, my pussy already dripping.

Jamal lifted my skirt from behind and yanked down my panties.

“Look at her,” he said, slipping two fingers inside without resistance. “Soaked.”

Malik kissed me deeply as he took off my bikini top, squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples until I moaned into his mouth.

They laid me down on the sofa, face up. Jamal positioned himself between my legs. The head of his cock grazed my entrance, opening me up.

“Ready?”

I opened my legs wider and pushed toward him.

He entered slowly, inch by inch, stretching me to the limit. I felt every vein, every heartbeat. When he reached the bottom, a first orgasm shot through me like lightning: my cunt contracted around him in violent spasms, my legs trembled uncontrollably, and a long cry escaped my throat. Jamal stayed still, enjoying how my insides milked him.