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This Hot island erotica crazy beach the first story in a new series called Hot Sand. It's an anthology series, each story being completely different from the last, with all new characters.

They'll be posted alphabetically, this first one titled Abaco Islands. Each will be a warm weather story, with beaches and other warm weather things. If you're wondering, yes, I started writing them back in the depths of a long, cold winter. The stories will cover quite a few of Literotica's categories, this first one being an Interracial story that could have gone in the Loving Wives category. As usual, I enjoyed writing these, and I hope you enjoy reading them. Please join me in thanking my kind, patient editor, J.

She's one of those sexy West Coast girls, with the salty air of the Pacific in her lungs, and the sea breeze in her long hair. Thanks J. His arms wrapped around his wife from behind, embracing Hot island erotica crazy beach lovingly. Think of all the people who've had sex in here. Trust me. A few times during the dinner Greg had noticed Joan's glances at the bartender, a tall, very handsome, huge and powerfully muscled black man.

Just then, as she Worlds largest dick fucking chicks on her wine, her glance lingered.

She whispered loudly, " Greg! What's gotten into you! Joan, feeling a flush of heat that made her tingle, said, "Maybe. But, isn't that I was thinking more about his overall size. Is that what you girls think about? That black guys have big cocks? I'm not beautiful, or sexy.

What Hot island erotica crazy beach they put in those drinks of yours? Are you drunk already? But seriously, when you see a black man, what do you think his body's going to look like. She took a sip of her wine. I know that's a stereotype, too. So you have heard the Big Black Cock one.

On the I didn't think His eyes twinkled. Is it a guy thing? Men want Hot island erotica crazy beach women to be horny all the time? She took a deep breath. Let me guess—the romantic kind, the kind that looks like it was shot in slow motion even though it wasn't, with gorgeous young couples that could be models if they wanted to be.

Maybe I should ask about your porn habits. She glanced at the bartender again, as if to tell the story without actually saying it. He looked genuinely curious, in a gentle kind of way, so Joan nodded. Joan nodded Hot island erotica crazy beach, shyly.

It's good, probably, right? Honesty and all that. Group sex is fun to watch. I don't know why. Maybe it's because all those people can see each other. I guess I like that. Small women and big cocks is good. You'd think, with me having kind of a small one, I wouldn't like watching what a big cock does to a woman, but I Hot island erotica crazy beach. She nearly jumped out of her chair when the waiter approached Hot island erotica crazy beach behind her.

Triple chocolate cake and Tiramisu were ordered, with two coffees. Each bite of triple chocolate sent Joan a little farther into heaven. Glad the conversation about porn had ended, she luxuriated in the moment, relaxed and smiled. In just a few hours time she'd gone from run-of-the-mill wife and weary traveler to a loving wife who felt almost as sexy as the woman at the next table looked, a sleek-looking natural blonde who was all decked out in a slinky dark gray evening dress.

When the bill was paid Greg led the way, past the blonde, toward the bar. Joan smiled at her husband's newfound friskiness, walking with him, thinking it would be a quick pass-by, a seconds-long close encounter with the big, hunky bartender, but Greg guided her to a bar stool and he took a seat on one.

The bartender was already there, saying "What can I do for you good folks? I have a nice Hot island erotica crazy beach cognac, Jean Fillioux. The big bartender turned and walked to his decoratively lit wall of glass shelving, plucking a bottle from the hundreds of others.

Joan smirked at Greg and shook her head. You're full of surprises tonight. You're just trying to soften me up so you can ogle all the bikini girls on the beach tomorrow. Greg offered his hand to the bartender. And who's your lovely companion here this evening? A happy couple! That's good! I can always tell a happy marriage. Sl big fat xxx so nice to meet you, Joan.

Joan was tongue-tied, so Greg spoke. You were probably just a kid. Clinton was even more attractive up close—powerfully muscled in just the right way, on a frame of bones that were at least twice as big and solid as Greg's.

The conversation at the dinner table lit up in her memory, and she wondered if all of him was at least twice as big and solid. There was no real need to wander far — the beach in front of the resort was clean and magnificent, with a blue, white clouded sky overhead that was the very definition of a dream. Joan felt a blushing heat again. Maybe I'll go change. Look around, do you seriously think a woman in a bikini is going to cause a stir?

You know that. You're not your mother, and I'm not my father. Oh my God! I feel You look really good. Why did I have to get this pudgy gene from my Hot island erotica crazy beach. I don't think bikinis go on breasts, they go on tits.

I guess But just when we're alone! It was Clinton all right, getting himself set up for the day's business. The top half of him — all Joan could see — was dressed in a much more casual manner, a vaguely Hawaiian style short sleeved shirt that was colorfully green and yellow.

It was a slightly panicky moment for Joan — someone she knew, quite possibly seeing her in a bikini, something she wasn't even close to used to wearing. But then the quiet magic of a Bahamian beach started to relax her. Quickly lost in her steamy, romantic little book, with the warmth of the sun tanning her, she didn't think of Clinton again until she and Greg walked back to their towels after a nice swim in the warm ocean.

Clinton was there, centered in her view, alone behind the Tiki bar. Her hand was up, waving at him, even though she didn't will it to be there, and her slightly pudgy forty-five year old body was electrified, tingling, nearly naked. That's how she felt at that moment — nearly naked, waving at a stunning hunk of a man, one who smiled at her as brightly and beautifully as the sun. After Joan toweled her hair to the damp stage and put her sun hat back on, Greg suggested drinks at the tiki bar.

Joan wanted to — it was the perfect thing to do on a Bahamian beach — so she put aside her fears as best she could, putting on the wispy, see-through top half of her bikini cover-up. If she'd taken a moment to ask Greg how she looked in it, he would have said "even sexier," but she didn't ask. Thinking she looked 'covered up', she followed him to a stool at the small outdoor bar.

Clinton greeted them warmly. My favorite married friends! Joanie, you're not getting sunburned, are Hot island erotica crazy beach

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